White egrets


Last night

the egrets flew


filling my dream

with silent sound:


a wedding party

beneath a bridge,


I a bride

held by


unknown hand.


I laughed

six feet


above the



laughed to see

the guests


eyes aloft

but strictly


earth bound.



Only a hand

held me captive


married to

a stranger


lost in kingdom

of unknown:


last night

white egrets





new life;



& hope.






South Bank again

The river, undulating silk

brushed from the brow

of St Paul’s.


A half moon

hangs below Venus;

it’s cold, so cold,


the wind turreting

concrete corners.


I should get out more

stand away from myself

watch life form in pockets


the similarities there in the

pivot of the planets.


No water,

it seems we are parched;


you live above the rolling tide

we watch for thunder.


Tonight I want to

lie down on the swell

let it engulf me.


No further than this,

wait for an answer

where no answer lies ,


in the cold undulating

swell of a winter river

and call for you


Dear Daddy.


Dear Daddy,

I’m getting old now, nearly as old as you,

& I know you’re dead, any talk we do

is in my dreams or in my head…….


Last night you ran your hand along my face

asked me how I’m doing, if it’s too late

to be the father all girls expect,


to be there sometimes, not on another flight

to a far flung destination where you’re

unobtainable: and your girlfriends hover.


Dear Daddy,


It’s been so many years and boys chase me

as girls did you, I’m a walking replica

of extinct genes…….


the same smooth skin and no grey hair

those undimmed eyes, but daddy now

you seem younger than me….


when you visit sometimes dream to dream.


Dear Daddy,


It really doesn’t make any sense

how being dead you’re just the same,

a figment of memory receptors in my brain……


all darling pilot and freedom fighter,

mostly your own freedom

I haven’t found mine……


Dear Daddy,


You’re so young still………….



Sloane Street

River sends brown eddies over traffic noises and the hum of London,

the moon so white and obsolete, it hangs like a charm on the bracelet of your heart;  but you just don’t see,

the breeze through the leaves finger my hair, the music in between, this urge to lie down with you.

It happened somewhere between crossing the road and a glimpse of pink shirt,

So sad tonight, my lover’s taken leave and the moon hangs in the sky obsolete.

I want to call you other names, hidden names as though we’ve passed and re passed, memories piecing us together.

I’m not so sure; I just don’t know what to make of this.

Traffic hums and you’re reading old tunes of mine, stapled between pages of stolen hearts and broken dreams.

My last lost lover left me an email today, said there was some other woman he had to try on for size, like a new coat and I’m lying here wondering if she fits, wondering if he says the same things, as he falls into her.

The moon laughs at me; the way I always throw it all away, like an unwished gift, like a baby’s kiss, like a new morning,

but tonight, I wanted to forget about all of this; lie with you a while, see if kisses float and mermaids sing to us in dreams,


see if it’s more than a memory.






Boys smell good, have smooth bodies

to run your fingers over


& when boys love you, its early morning sunshine

with no clouds.


Boy’s wrap their arms around you

tell long boring stories of other girls


& boys can’t see the cracks in the pavement

or wonder when tomorrow will come..


Boys are dangerous, their love ensnares you

sex is always 2.a.m and continuing,


& the goodbyes raw and confusing,

boys make you cry!


I loved a boy once, he had green eyes

told me he would love me forever


& his morning kisses were sweeter than

anything I had ever known.


Boys leave you, often without warning,

they leave gaps in the fabric of your universe


tears in the structure of your environment

a monsoon in your heart.


I had a boy once.


Street corner

Poems from  Love Bites 2016 buy here


Crossing from Battersea

brown bottled river;

you going North, me trudging South

our fingers stretched to elastic

our footsteps sticky as we pull apart.


Your kisses always taste

like sunshine, light a fire

to steam London drizzle

into Rome twilight.


Our words paint pictures

in the air, I see you watch

my lips move:

imagining the taste of the sentences

swallowing my song.


You’ve watched me slide

through another’s fingers

noted the curves I’ve inspired,

only another pair of brown

anonymous eyes.


Light grows a minute a day

this time of year

and our kisses on street corners

grow pink blossom in January,

while sun meanders scantily.


We remember no huge


yet forever is where,

we always reside.


Ultramarine [January]




From Ultramarine.

Buy here 


Cocooned in seal bliss bed curling warmth,

earth coated wedding dress white

grass contorted, trees jangling stalactites

far down beneath in dark concealing peace

worms spin their lonely journey.


Snow is no soft option as the griping

cold turns breath to smoke, dragons

in my heart whip and churn cry out

for recognition: the city is a still gown

of feathers in the frost.


Bright eyed children wipe frozen fingers

I have reached saturation, rising from dream seas

contorted glaciers of my mind’s synapses

snap bridges shut I’m washed by ice flows

glinting on moon dulled landscapes.


Breath turns as ultramarine becomes black

mind replays symbols:


Childhood taught me the need for ritual for the living, mourners hung in white robes, incense trailing pungent smoke, clashing symbols and then voices raised in grief’s cry. There was so much heat on those fervent tropical streets while children threw small candy to appease threatening deities. We would raid Chinese graveyards at half-light, swimming the monsoon’d alleyways to retrieve jangled treasure, crumpled photos of deceased Buddha’s left to protect, no sooner owned than somehow shrinking in stature. Sitting high on flat porch roof watching Ramadan’s procession, men with knives stuck through tongues, beating drums, chanting priests, swaying of naked bodies, and we knew they were bound for the snake temple, the creatures a slithering mass of poison the opiated faithful crawled amongst.

We sucked florid ice cubes daring each other to jump, fly the forty foot from sky to concrete, until I, trying out my seven-year-old flirtations egged the boy next door to his doom. We watched him fly, then crash, and later drew dragons on his plaster cast taking it in turns to knitting needle the itching.  Amah’s clattered in the crowds below calling errant children as we surveyed the crush in safe serenity.


Here on this seal morning it is the lack of heat that drives me down deep my hands stiff like my wisteria, gaunt and crusted with Northern winter.












of destiny:


you swim



sea – salt



as thin

as wisp


of fairy cloth.


I spun you

in my sleep


grew your

sea shell







I gift you

a life


of raindrop







of my










The weeks



like decades:


leaves fall

& sky shrinks


to blanket grey.


A last pink rose



holds her

lovely head,


as if to say,


‘Winter is forgotten.’



the word


sends icicle


down my spine,

as the sharp crack


of ice,

opens pond.


These are

sea days:



salty bath


of creation.


Fragile, naked





until spring

gathers warmth


& we



pure gold.