Monday, 11 February 2013

Nine



We took a scooter each, thee and me, and headed out into the dark towards the beach. You wanted to find the first star of the evening. Down we go, weaving in and out and past each other. The dark warms and holds us in our own little bubble. Over the cobbles and across the lights we laugh, though this is serious fun. 

Down on the stones we look out over the sea. All the stars are cocooned away in the cloudy sky. 

'Never-mind' you say, 'lets scoot.'

Along the front we whirl and twirl, looping and figuring eights.

'Like this Mummy'

Then we stop and sit. You wipe the bench with your sleeve and explain the magic of the stars. I watch the city lights flashing and winking. Blurring past our stillness.

On the way home you ask me

'What do you wish for mummy?'




Monday, 21 January 2013

Eight




This is my favourite cup. I am always pleased when it happens to be at the front of the cupboard, waiting for one teabag or another. We get on well the cup and I. It’s smooth rimmed, sturdy weight reassures me that, actually, all is well. 
I daydream journeys. My cup of tea takes me to far-flung adventures; all the colours of the world are collected by my trusty camper. And then, revived, I return. Eyes open into the deep, insular square of my kitchen. But my cup still whispers:

'The world waits for you yet'

Friday, 7 December 2012

Seven



  
Sat on the train you pick up the pendants around my neck.

‘What that mummy?’ Little fingers move the beads, up, down and along the thin chain.

‘It’s a heart bead that Louie gave me’
‘Neckyoull?’ 
“Yes, on my necklace”

Kneeling on my lap you quietly contemplate the mismatched jewels. Then, satisfied, all are dropped and you throw your arms around my neck.

‘Tired mummy’ you sigh before leaning backwards and shaking your head from side to side until the wisps of hair swoosh around your face. 

Eyes closed a small smile grows until you laugh, delighted with this new accomplishment. 

And we glow in the shining golden warmth around us.


Friday, 9 November 2012

Six





'I don't need my wellies today' you told me. 'I don't feel like getting wet or muddy.'

I don't think you could resist.

The silt left behind in the bath after soaking your jeans-socks-legwarmers-jumper and shoes was so beautiful. We made prints.

[post-script: you stripped off and jumped in to wash it all away before running a hot deep bath and taking a long afternoon soak. And this makes me smile every time I think of it.]


Thursday, 11 October 2012

Five



This is what we do
We change
And fold
And wipe and clean
This is what we do
We feed and bathe and sort and tidy
This is what we do

This is what we do
We smile
And laugh
And pick and press
This is what we do
We fix and make and play and sing
This is what we do

This is what we do
We wait
And save
 And think and hold
This is what we do
We cry and rage and shout and frown
This is what we do



Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Four


My elders
Teach me
Quiet voices whispering 
My story
Smoky threads infusing
A sense of self

The Elder
Grows here
Prolific blooms suffusing
The hedgerows
Bittersweet flowers connecting 
A sense of earth


My children 
Beside me
Quiet breaths diffusing
Into ether
Silent stories healing
A sense of soul


Thursday, 1 March 2012

Three







Birds circle the old pier. Flocking like streamers
Ribbons and threads thrown to the wind
Up. Down
Around the silhouetted frames shapes morphing effortlessly 
from circle to teardrop and back to ribbon. 


We stopped on the way back from the park.
“What?”
you asked.
“Look at the birds” I said, “can you see?”



“Oh” 

We stood for maybe 10 minutes. No one noticed
On the way home you wanted to push.
………………………………………………………………………………………………

I saw them again today
In the half-light at dusk
Looping and swirling around the burnt out timbers
As the day faded away
 We walked to the railings above the beach
 Colours striped up from the heavy blue sea
Blunt against a bright horizon
The light fighting
And blurring through a wall of cloud
Grey, navy, black and dark
Stretching back overland and towards home. 

My heart stopped at the beauty of it. 

“I want to go on the beach”, you said. 

And the blue of your eyes fills me with wonder
For the whole world is held there within.