lizpike

What is it really all for anyway?

I was day-dreaming today as I made my way along a Shropshire lane on my way to teach creative writing to some excitable children. What is this really all about I was asking myself, and what am I doing it for? I was imagining that I had achieved all the worldly goals: a house, financialContinueContinue reading “What is it really all for anyway?”

Store it up..

A kernel is sometimes all it takes. A feeling, a word, an image that sums up how we are feeling, a verse from a song. Store them up, write them down. In those years of relentless parenting with three under fives, I often had a feeling, a desire to say something which would be snatchedContinueContinue reading “Store it up..”

Type One

A poem about my daughter’s diagnosis with type one diabetes. This poem is in my book There You Are, a collection of 34 hand lettered and illustrated poems about motherhood. You can find it here.

For When We Don’t Know What is Coming: an unexpected diagnosis

We had just moved to the wilds of Shropshire, with a two-week old baby and two pre-schoolers, and everything was new. My husband was beginning to concentrate on his music full-time, and the two eldest children had just started in a new preschool. There was time for the dust to settle. But I still hadContinueContinue reading “For When We Don’t Know What is Coming: an unexpected diagnosis”

Shine Like Stars

So much of my life as a writer has been about waiting. It’s frustrating as a creative outlet in that for a lot of the time, your work has to be validated by someone else for it to appear in print. Even now, there are a few pieces of my work that have been published,ContinueContinue reading “Shine Like Stars”

Letting Go

Sending my novel out to agents feels a curious thing. I have finished at last. I breathe a sigh of relief. I am proud of what I have achieved. But I also find myself stepping back from it. It is its own thing, launched into the inboxes of strangers. I can’t imagine how is perceivedContinueContinue reading “Letting Go”

Commissions by Little Bird Editions

Really pleased with this commission for a friend. Her own words and a gorgeous icy blue for the print. Commission your own print- you can request commissions from the shop here. Happy days #livecreatively

Trembling Heart

A poem about the night that my daughter was diagnosed with Type 1, back in 2013 when she was 2 and a half. I held you to me on the bed and smelt your hair, felt your lightness,as your father bustled in the darkness for your favourite things.We had been to the doctors thatContinueContinue reading “Trembling Heart”

Afterwards, a work in progress…

And breathe… first day back to school for the kids which means I finally have some time! Here is the latest work in progress. To be included in a book of poems that should be ready by Autumn 🤞 🙏xx #handlettering #poems #instapoetry #livecreatively #parenting EDIT: You can find the finished poem in There YouContinueContinue reading “Afterwards, a work in progress…”

Uncle John

A very old poem and a kernel for the novel. The smell of the strawberry jam, the decay, the wildness.. The jam thick with whole strawberries hadn’t seemed so wonderful to me at the time. Only now, sitting in my room with morning toast do I feel the loss, as I remember themContinueContinue reading “Uncle John”

Messy Desk…creative mind…

Believe it or not, this is the tidiest my desk has been in a long time..!😂 this is place I wrote and redrafted my novel which is now going out to agents 🤞🤞🤞 and also the place I design my hand lettered poems and also where I think up creative ways to teach creative writing.ContinueContinue reading “Messy Desk…creative mind…”

Love Poem: Poetry prints by Little Bird Editions

My children exhaust me and bring me to the end of myself but they make me who I am and they were the ones who taught me to love. I have recently launched a collection of prints which are my own hand-letterings of some of my poems about the early years, when everything is aContinueContinue reading “Love Poem: Poetry prints by Little Bird Editions”

Pick Up Your Violin!

When I am reading to my children, I am half-asleep, I am not distracted, my defences are down, and for me that is sometimes the best time to hear God. The latest one is Patrick by Quentin Blake, a tale of wonder and music. You can read the story here: https://archive.org/details/Patrick-Eng-QuentinBlake The message in this amazingContinueContinue reading “Pick Up Your Violin!”

Coming down to Earth at the National Trust

Again this is an old article that I have dug out today. This was written in Autumn 2012 I think… Today we drove for an hour and a half to meet up with friends from our home town (by home town, I mean the one that I and my husband grew up in, the townContinueContinue reading “Coming down to Earth at the National Trust”

Marianne Williamson on being given permission to shine

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child ofContinueContinue reading “Marianne Williamson on being given permission to shine”

To Lavish

To lavish (def: bestow something in generous or extravagant quantities on). I love the fact that God’s ways are not our ways and that the eternal mysteries of God are something that we keep learning over and over. They don’t naturally make sense to us, we can’t see them coming. In the world, we sayContinueContinue reading “To Lavish”

Gifts

I sometimes have to remind myself that God wants to use me; who I am, as I am, right now. It’s easy to write ourselves off and to think we’re not ready yet but God is looking for people who are ready and waiting; first to hear his word and then to obey it. HeContinueContinue reading “Gifts”

Write From the Heart – New Logo!

How do you like our new logo?

Review

I just wanted to say that Anna really enjoys your classes and I think it is fantastic that you are running them as the imagination is something that is often stifled or forgotten these days. Parent

Magnetic Poetry: Story Starter

Story starter from this weeks after school club. Take a handful of words and play until you get a phrase that sparks the imagination! #livecreatively

Joan Didion on telling stories

‘We tell ourselves stories in order to live.’ Joan Didion

Michael Morpurgo’s Writing Advice

– Write because you love it and not because it is something that you think you should do. – Always write about something or somebody you know about – something that you feel deeply and passionately about. Never try and force it. – The most important thing is to live an interesting life. Keep yourContinueContinue reading “Michael Morpurgo’s Writing Advice”

Nicky Gumbel on Purpose

‘Your life has PURPOSE. Your story is IMPORTANT. Your dreams COUNT. Your voice MATTERS. You were born to make an IMPACT.’ Nicky Gumbel

Write From the Heart joy

Some of the things we have got up to last year.. miniature houses, cut out poems, zines, cut up characters.. We’re back for more this September running several Afterschool clubs in the area.

#4

The blossom like a surprise, it is there and then gone, The scent, and then gone, so quickly. The lush wildness overtakes the place, There is the feeling of hope And the first really warm days. May.

#3

On a train to Lime Street The fields rush by all green and yellow. For the first time we are going to a city for the day, diabetic daughter and I. Who would have thought when this thing showed up, how much it would overtake us, how from that day on, there would be fearContinueContinue reading “#3”

thought

I sit before a dark window frame, The sickly thought of black leaves rustling out there turns my stomach. The quietness rings in my ears and the glare of the screen wearies my eyes. I am thinking tonight of this treasure that I’ve found, the origin of flightlessness. What does it mean for me?

#1

Wind wraps around me like a blanket. In a blustery playground my boy has fallen asleep. And there is space and time, of a sort, standing hands in pockets, brook rushing by behind me, I hear it’s eddies and ripples, see the winter light brimming, spilling over, winding through the trees. All alone like IContinueContinue reading “#1”

Thoreau on dreams

‘Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.’ H.D.Thoreau

#78

We go to ballet, and there she quickly changes into her tutu, picks up a star and dances around. They go on a magic carpet ride to the beach, they make a castle and smash it down. She comes alive, skipping around this room. There is magic in the lonely sound of this piano. ItContinueContinue reading “#78”

#76

Cold back, happy heart. The boys fall into bed at 8.30. Sam has been at school all week, His first week. There have been tears each day from my love, My brave boy who was the biggest and loudest in the Preschool playground, who jumped the highest, who ran the fastest. Just next door, atContinueContinue reading “#76”

#75

And then the next day, driving down to Kidderminster, I am glad that we are together, not sad that I am wasting a day going all that way to fetch a car. Because after all, when you have children, what is time wasting anyway? We pick up the car, and drive back to a playgroundContinueContinue reading “#75”

#73

Sitting outside, listening to the beautiful noise coming from that shed. Tiny Leaves rehearses with his cellist. This is what summer is like, After two weeks of cold rain, I had almost forgotten. Mud covered children at dinner time, Finding potatoes like jewels in the mud. Birds singing still at 8.30, The fresh scent ofContinueContinue reading “#73”

#69

I’ve said it before butI want it always to be like this:little people in command of their space, walking to the drawer to get paper,appearing at the doorway in funny hats.Calling ‘mummy’ in the night.This is their safe space,Their kingdom.

#67

We go to castle on the border, it rains and I remember that it rained the last time that we came too. We climb the winding stairs and they try on the chain mail, and they can’t believe how heavy it is. The rain clears and we go outside and they roll down the bank,ContinueContinue reading “#67”

#65

I don’t know how to dress for this weather; pouring rain, then bright bright sun. I have a carload of sleepers and five minutes to spare. We have come to meet a friend at Attingham, but there is a tinge of sadness as I wait because all of these sixty-somethings that I see walking aroundContinueContinue reading “#65”

#63

He has been drawing, drawing, drawing, this Sam. He is obsessive, like his father, he does not give up. He cries when I draw the wings of his dragon too small. He draws beautiful things: Monsters, houses hiding behind trees full of leaves, Pirates, a Daddy with a generous beard. We go out for anContinueContinue reading “#63”

#60

These children, they don’t sit down! They play, they fight, they colour and learn to ride a bike in one day. They jump off the slide, don’t sit still at dinner, can’t wind down enough even to watch TV. They talk all through the bedtime story, Because they keep thinking of things to say (soContinueContinue reading “#60”

#57

They go on a bear hunt today. Swishing through the long grass, hunting for gummy bears. They crawl under a willow dragonfly and then mould mud pies on their palms. They eat porridge cooked on a campfire in the burning sun. And afterwards, in the shade, They dip their toes in the cold, cold stream.

#56

They start at the bottom, Go a little way, Have us catch them. ‘Again’, they say, ‘A bit higher’ ‘Catch me!’ ‘Push me!’ We sledge at Inwood on steep grass banks. It lights up their eyes, Just as it surely did for us when we were young. And I realise that in so many waysContinueContinue reading “#56”

#55

It rings in my ears, the quiet in this house, here, now. I can sit down without wondering where Ben is or what he is chewing. I can hear children (not mine) shouting, two fields over. A car hums along the road. The rocking chair creaks as Joel sits down. He starts to talk, slowly,ContinueContinue reading “#55”

#52

We sit there and watch them, us five, as the sand martins dip and dive towards their home. The young wait at the door, their heads peeping out. Across the river from them, I sit with my young tribe And think how fast the time has gone, And how they have grown. These three beautiesContinueContinue reading “#52”

#50

He pulls the carrot from the ground, And is amazed at what he finds. The bright orange of it peeks through the soil which he shakes from it. ‘My carrot!’ he says. He sowed it, watered it, watched it grow and is pleased with himself now, pleased with what he finds.

#48

After dinner I am sweeping the kitchen floor, when I turn and pick up the scent of fresh mint that drifts in the back door. Sam is waiting there, almost completely covered with it, the leaves trailing over his head, hiding, waiting for his Daddy to find him.

#45

Today, Littlest is coming to light, Pushing up through the baby months, He is pointing and saying da. He crawls onto his brother’s bed And bounces with him, He crawls around after them in the hot sun. He knows he is like them, that he should be doing what they do, So he chews pensContinueContinue reading “#45”

#44

She whines after her nap, Fell asleep in the car with Daddy On their way back from Sainsbury’s But she shouldn’t sleep really, She’s too big. When she woke, Red cheeked, with hot tears, I told her Eva was coming, Her little friend, her cousin, And she stopped, just like that.

#43

It is the moments like this that you treasure when camping, that make it all worthwhile, The five-thirty wake up, And then, when you come outside, Like this, and you see the blue grey mist wrapping around the mountains, You see the light of dawn come blazing through, Like pure gold, And even though youContinueContinue reading “#43”

# 42

There is wonder in their eyes as they come face to face with the lobsters in their tank, scuttling across the floor, not much bigger than Ben. A touch of magic, of electric blue.

#41

We’ve set up camp, the children burble in their tent. ‘I want to sleep like this’ ‘the other day, last time, you said’ we mill around getting sweet things and cups of tea. There are cakes and pancakes to be eaten. Sheep bleat, the light falls.

#38

Sometimes we don’t even have time to say a word to each other, Don’t look at each other before we must attend to this or that, The fight or the nappy change or the insulin. And then after they sleep we each have our uphill journey to continue with. Music, writing, these dreams, we pullContinueContinue reading “#38”

#30

Your face makes a shadow against the sun. You crawl over me, Pinning me to the earth, This moment, This place. I’m lying on the grass in the hot sun. The bells ring loudly this Sunday afternoon. I’m too tired to move.