time takes
a brisk walk
I skip and hop
to keep up
puffing cloud breaths
in cold winter air
just yesterday
spring arrived
minutes passed
in summer
now festivities
my desire
to pause
like a raindrop
poised on a leaf edge
as time
slows to treacle
to sit
and in sitting
be at peace



where do the days go
the slippery slidey days
trickling away
into a river of time
lost forever
and here I am standing
balanced on a rock
as all my tomorrows
become yesterdays
and I


time is rushing
and I’m straggling behind
running to keep up
dropping trails of post-it notes
behind me
scribbled notes that were important once
before their purpose was forgotten
the hand-writing indecipherable
even to the eye that wrote it
please, time
have a tea-break
and let me catch my breath!

simply be

as time flies by
there is so little
of it left to sit
and think
and ask myself
about myself
and feel the feelings
that I feel

I seem to just

do this and that
without a pause
of quiet thought
to contemplate

each day is filled
with things and stuff
my senses crammed
with sights and sounds

sometime demands
of work and home
keep me doing
doing doing
sometimes I do not stop
from constant doing
doing doing
as if to stop
would be to fail

yet here
I sit
a moment found
my silence-craving

I sit
I stop
I breathe
and rest
drink tea
and simply

distant words

distant words
land softly
on my heart
from another time
and a yearning
a burning need
for words
to come again
but this is just
for I have all
in the now


who was I
a year ago?
what was I
from this angle
looking back
I wonder
at myself
lost and confused
misled, exploited
and even now
at this distance
it pains me
to remember
so forgive me
if I cling
to you
my love
I am floored
by how far
I have come
from there
to here
and oh so grateful
for your love


is for remembering
for counting
the ways of change
in a decade
of difference
since thirty
came and went
with small ones
tugging at my hands
time hurts
time heals
but time always moves on
and so do I

and on the third day …

time is falling
from the sky
and I’m twisting, arching
flinging myself
at odd angles
trying to avoid the downpour
but the years
will soak me through
one is born
one dies
one fights the inevitable
yet in the end
comes acceptance
lying down in the
feathers of mist
drenched in age
and as dawn comes
I will stand up again
with a creak and a groan
proudly wearing the
cloak of antiquity
and embracing
the passing
of youth

the nearing of years

I fear
the years
in the lines
on my skin
as forty nears
the evidence clears
I am old
and what
is to show
from those years
just marks on skin
or marks on lives
or am I merely
marking time
’til closing of
the daily