Home Comfort*

Do you remember the Good Old Days? The shared simplicity of outdoor play, Of meeting your mates to ride your bikes Of skipping and hopscotch and diamond kites? Of reading and writing and learning to spell, Of nans and grandads with stories to tell Of playing out with kids down the street, Of being polite […]

Dignity and Decline*

My mum is in a twilight zone: Happy in company, lost on her own, Somehow dissolving with the passage of time Returning to dependence in her silent decline. Happy enough to be part of the crowd Only if we speak up loud, Though she always looks attentive -Quite a skill, justifiably defensive… Perhaps it’s a […]

Chaos Theory*

Is it possible I was born predisposed to be untidy, Complex genetic coding the foundation of my lot, The propensity for mess, for chaos and disorder A hard-wired condition of automatic pilot? Or am I a natural-born hoarder, An Accumulator Of Stuff, Kept with care In-case-it-comes-in-handy? (…Is that not reason enough?!) The procurement of ephemera […]

Skin Deep*

Looking somewhere between bizarre and fantastic, The famous faces now filled with plastic Step out confidently into the spotlight With an air suggesting they’re doing it right: Every single hair in place No hint of lines upon each face, Foreheads somewhat immobilised, As much as the skin around the eyes. Triangular mounds of implanted filler […]

Secret History*

My dad was a remarkable man Who lived below the radar Keen not to court attention Lest people thought him bizarre, Judging, as is folks’s wont, His countenance and not his grace The colour of his skin Not the mind behind his face. He told us stories when we asked About the life he’d led […]

The Age of Reason*

When we were young, we wanted to grow up But none of us expected to grow old. We listened to our parents and learned from our elders And generally did as we were told… When things went wrong, we found a way To put them back together Constantly re-configuring allegiance Believing we’d been clever. The […]

The Age of Reason*

When I was young It was Oil of Ulay¹ That promised to at least allay The wrinkling of skin beholden of kin Who’d lived and worked and aged with grace, Their history narrated by the lines on their face. They’d stories to tell of their journeys through life From childhood through war time to dutiful […]