What a beautiful thing, To know that, even when we wake to grey And the pitter patter of rain that kicks up Petrichor into the air, The sun is right there Behind the clouds Shining down on us and just Waiting For its moment To be seen.
So much to say But neither the words or the wherewithal To speak A mind, brewing with bundles of Half-formed ideas, Too preoccupied with the Big things of a little life To dot the i and cross the Tea, standing stone cold next to a Half-filled notebook, Dusty dreams lying in wait For a hand [...]
If Hope is the thing with feathers Why does it weigh so heavy on my heart? The lifting of those hopeful wings Seems over before it starts. If Hope is the thing with feathers Where’s the softness? Where’s the smooth? Where’s the chance to leave the ground Without the burden of painful truth? If Hope [...]
We spend so much of ourselvesTrying not toFeel. Even when we are marked for emotionIt has to beControlled. We can only feelCertain thingsAt certain timesIn certain placesFor certain reasons.And anything that falls outside that tinyImpossibleBox, is completelyUnacceptable. Sometimes I don’t know ifI’m angryAt myself or the world, butI’m angryNonetheless. I would call on the power [...]
This month, I find myself in the position of having my first ever author interview coming out. I have been fortunate enough to be in conversation with the lovely Rue Sparks and she will be sharing a review of Thrive and an interview with yours truly later this month. This is very exciting. But I'm [...]
I tried to write a poemAbout my unmakingBut I do not have wordsFor the pain of finally seeing myself - so much less than I thoughtOr the hope of realising what I could be - so much more than I am.May I never forgetOr shy away from this labour ofLove.Unravelling. Undoing. Unlearning. Unbecoming.
For some people, just hearing the word ‘poetry’ is enough to make them cringe or groan or roll their eyes, perhaps recalling endless GCSE English lessons slaving over poems that seemed to be about something simple – say, a pair of brown curtains – but that your teacher insisted was actually about the poet’s regret [...]
Suppose There’s a way To find meaning Even as the world ends Suppose We let the sun warm Our tired faces Even as our carefully constructed world Falls apart around us Look up The sky is clear No longer scarred by our comings and goings Suppose We can find a new way of living Despite [...]
A few years ago, I fell in love with The Lost Words - a stunning collection of poetry and illustrations by Rob Macfarlane and Jackie Morris celebrating the wonders of nature and preserving the words that are becoming increasingly absent from our common vernacular. With that book, I taught a class of eleven year olds what bluebells are, [...]
my heart-song carriesa tune of soaring joya searing melody thatcaresseswith tingling fingertipsalong the nape of my neckcalling my soul outinto the world this loveis notwhat they told me you are not my other halfor my betteryou do not complete meor make me wholeyou are not what I was looking foryou are the mirror that helped [...]