Home from school in the hot summer sun

Ice cream at Grandma’s window

For my sister and me

A treat given with love.

Warm stone on our feet that are hard and dry

From joyful running and jumping

Along cobbled lanes

That wind through our village home.

While we eat she tells us of her life before

And how we to will be a grandma one day

And will do the same for our grandchildren

With ice creams at the window.

But you will live for ever Grandma

And you will always be here when we come.

She smiles and says she will

But deep down we know and are sad.

And then its home, licking our lips with joy

Another day in our for ever life,

With tomorrow to look forward to

And another ice cream at Grandma’s window.




I’ve started to walk in circles

And I just can’t understand why

Walking straight is nigh on impossible

No matter how hard that I try.

At home I tend to be better

And as long as I stick to routine

And walk close to the walls

With my hand out, it works, if you know what I mean.

My doctor declares himself baffled

And has issued me with a cane

But I’m still walking clockwise as usual

Its inconvenient and frankly a pain.

If I could just change to anti clockwise

At least it would give me some breaks

And maybe its just what is needed

I’ll do it whatever it takes.

I’ve even considered a wheelchair

But it would probably end up the same

With me going round in circles

And only myself for to blame.

So if you see me walking in circles

Please give me your arm if you would

And walk me along in a die straight line

So I finally end up where I should.




I think I saw him the other day walking on the other side of the road. Even though he didn’t look my way, somehow I seemed to know that he was thinking about me. A strange and surreal feeling of familiarity. Then not a sign of him for days. Perhaps I had imagined it.

My walking has become more and more difficult so I don’t get out much. So a few days later, when I did manage to go shopping, this time I am sure I saw him. Again on the other side of the road and walking in the opposite direction. A car passed by blocking my view and when I looked again, he had gone. This time I was sure and this time it was real.

Two days ago, I decided to walk down the same street again just to see if I could see him and perhaps this time I would remember who he was. But there was no sign of him and I almost decided that I’d put it out of mind before it developed into some kind of obsession.

Yesterday he was there again. And as though to confirm that, this time we both smiled at each other and then looked away, almost as though each of us were embarrassed by our acknowledgement of each other. What did surprise me was that his smile had a strangely warm and familiar effect on me. In fact, it comforted me for the rest of my day.

Today he crossed over the road, stopped in front of me and put his hand on my shoulder and then I knew and, was happy.



A cup of tea

Is heaven to me

And several of them throughout the day

I must drink tea, come what may.

A cup of coffee must be black and small

Taken in mid morning and then that’s all

Let others drink coffee after every meal

If that’s the way they want to feel.

I drink gin with tonic and lime

And several of them when I get the time.

And drinking gin is not a sin

Gordons and Schweppes are part of my hymn.

Tankards of beer that tastes wholesome and good

Coming straight from the barrel, it really should

And there’s nothing to beat an Adams bitter

It suits me well and makes me fitter.

Rum and coke with lime and ice

Dreams of Jamaica and all things nice

Tropical smells and tropical hue

And heat in the winter when I’m feeling blue.

I don’t drink wine!



To travel far and live your life in full

To love your children and see them joyful and enriched

To gather friends and leave them happy with your memory

To show care, compassion and concern to all you find

A proud legacy of being nothing more, than kind.

Note: It’s nearly two years now since our dear friend Ann died.  I wrote this just after.   The picture is of a favourite walk of hers from Blythburgh to Walberswick



And then the wind blew in from the east

And hustled and bustled its way across the ploughed fields,

Filling some of the deep and carefully dug furrows

And scattering worm feeding black birds from their feast.

It blew seagulls into spiralling clouds of white feathers

And blew new paths through the wood

And piled autumn crisp and amber leaves up against fences,

Where they would lay and rot and make new earth for the spring.

It buffeted its way through the village street

And blew open the door of the church in the middle of Sunday sermon,

And the congregation turned in shock at the open door as the verger slammed it hard shut,

And the aged farmer in the front pew woke suddenly from his slumbering dreams

And wondered where he was.

Babies cried in attic bedrooms

And dogs and cats hunkered down before blazing kitchen fires

And thought themselves lucky.

Little girls dreamed of Christmas and little boys dreamed of little girls and stolen kisses.

While husbands gathered their wives close and prepared for winter’s darkness

And then it snowed



                There is a place that I know well,

Where, when summer and wheat turns to yellow gold

Corn marigolds spring up and dot themselves between the sheaves,

A sunlit path along the gaps it weaves.

I have a dream that one day soon

My door will open and laid far beyond my eyes

A sea of marigolds will greet my day

That cheer my soul from sadness come what may.




Some of my ideas