I feel like this summer is running away with me. The children are talking all the time, all at once and it feels like there isn’t the time to think. We aren’t doing very much as the ‘pingdemic’ is terrifying me and we are counting down the days until we have a week away. Meanwhile,ContinueContinue reading “One thing at a time.. July / August Update”
Tag Archives: poem
April news
Hello April! This month I have been working on some Lent poems along with some other creatives based on creative lent prompts. You can read them all here. My latest notes from IWED are also out this month. The Sacred Everyday was written last year during lockdown with homeschool going on so I had absolutelyContinueContinue reading “April news”
dawn
It starts off as the slightest lightening in the colourless dark, almost imperceptible at first and then, a little bolder, and soon enough the rose-gold glow colours the sky from east to west. It starts out so small, just a scratch of light against the darkness, but you know the might of the sun, andContinueContinue reading “dawn”
#40hope
Hope is that quiet shining thing, hidden at the very centre of us. It might be forgotten sometimes, or covered in dust and debris, it may be looked at with cynicism by others, by ourselves, even, but it remains; a coin, glinting in the soil, catching the light, catching your eye again, reminding you ofContinueContinue reading “#40hope”
#39wait
The two men on the road to Emmaus had forgotten how to wait, they had moved on too quickly to despair; ‘We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel’, they said. They had already given up hope, had tossed it by the wayside, in favour of despair; perhaps itContinueContinue reading “#39wait”
#38darkness
I see God bowed and brooding, his arms falling around his dear earth, after cruel jeers condemned his son to death. Doubled up with grief, he came close to the jagged earth, his arms around, almost touching. And it reminds me of this year; of all the loneliness, the people in their boxes, staying safeContinueContinue reading “#38darkness”
#37mourning
Mary, bowed by grief, goes early to the tomb and finds it empty. Her tears spill as her mind races; ‘Where have they taken my Lord?’ But her tears have left her blind, for as she turns in the garden, she can’t even make out the figure in front of her, alive and breathing, herContinueContinue reading “#37mourning”
#36doubt
I’ve always loved Thomas, the way he acts like a petulant school boy. ‘Show me then’, he says, ‘I won’t believe unless I see it.’ And then a week later, Jesus is there, and all of his undoing is there too; ‘My Lord and My God’, he says. Better to be true like he was;ContinueContinue reading “#36doubt”
#35hidden
you were hidden in death, in grave clothes, waiting for the right time to take your first breath of rebirth. and now I am hidden in you, safe as houses, where moth and rust cannot break in and destroy, because all my treasure is in you and you are all my treasure.
#34tomb
Sometimes, we too, bury our hope in darkness, shove it beneath the soil with a hollow heart, but even death itself was no match for my King; life-giver, death-defier. The truth of spring coming, though we saw only black mud, truth of the blazing heat of the sun, though we felt only the chill. OutContinueContinue reading “#34tomb”
#33cloths
Their very presence speaks to what is no longer there; the way that they fall, or are folded. There is the dance of life about them; the way they move themselves aside, lift themselves up, to let Life take its first breath. ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is noContinueContinue reading “#33cloths”
#32veil
he made a way, his body a bridge, his death and awakening a doorway between this lowly land and the pathways of heaven. way-maker, future-forger, eye-opener, the veil was torn in two, the sea split apart, death was undone and the separation was finished, finally, once and for all. so we could come boldly, asContinueContinue reading “#32veil”
#31cross
a single seed lay down in the soil, and from it sprang life, a tree, reaching to the heavens. a single tree, cut down, fashioned into planks and then a cross bearing the weight of the blameless King, a man, who was a tree of life himself, who walked the path into death and thenContinueContinue reading “#31cross”
#30sorrows
there are the secret sorrows, that we carry with us; the unanswered prayers, the quiet longings that have never been spoken, but we are told our King is a man of sorrows and well acquainted with suffering. he knows it well, this life, the way it twists and turns, blesses and then breaks us underContinueContinue reading “#30sorrows”
#29sacrifice
these gifts we hold lightly, their warp and weft, their stretch and sway as they wend their way through our lives, threading them with just a touch of heaven’s fire. we live through them, and through them make sense of this world. we see you, God, we even draw you, in green and grace, inContinueContinue reading “#29sacrifice”
#28crown
And so we crown you over and over, in the small ways of our lives, and in the quietness of our hearts. But perhaps it matters more, then, because you are the only one who sees it, and you are the only one it’s for. But I can’t put it any better than Frederick BuechnerContinueContinue reading “#28crown”
#27thorns
the thorny crown, a bead of blood spills, shame falls. he carries, then, all the weight of sin, and the mark of it on his body.
#26Majesty
Because you said yes to the path that would cost you greatly but bring us all freedom, a new power was unleashed and a new kingdom began. One of servanthood and love; love that had power enough to undo and remake our whole world. I went with the definition of majesty that meant authority. ThenContinueContinue reading “#26Majesty”
#25silence
the pause between that other world and this. the one before the cross, where the weight of sin was too heavy to bear, and the new one that is about to dawn. ‘But now, with eager expectation, all creation longs for freedom from its slavery to decay and to experience with us the wonderful freedomContinueContinue reading “#25silence”
#24king
Broken-down, trampled over, weeping. Alone, heart-broken, spat upon. Does this make a King? Spending himself freely on all who came to him. Present to all the hundreds who pressed in to him, wanting his healing, his teaching, or even just to look into his eyes. Obedient to his Father’s plan, because he knew it wasContinueContinue reading “#24king”
#23abandon
What would it have been like, being fully god and fully man, and to feel that your father had abandoned you? Maybe that is why Jesus trembled in the garden; he knew the price of walking this path. All the world’s sin, hurled upon his back, the weight of it, unthinkable. But in that darkestContinueContinue reading “#23abandon”
#22-Keep Watch
Could you imagine being fully God and fully man, asking your friends to stay a while with you, to keep watch with you, even though you knew they would fail, and even though you knew you would have to walk alone the path that was laid out before you? A death sentence that would unleashContinueContinue reading “#22-Keep Watch”
#20body
I tried to write about yesterday’s prompt but with the news of Sarah Everard yesterday, everything I wrote came back to her. And this is what I ended up writing. For Sarah I too, have walked home faster than normal, with a raised heart beat and the sound of my own footsteps loud in myContinueContinue reading “#20body”
#19room
He said to wait and so we waited. For what? For him again, for the light to come back and show us what to do next, and how to live. And so we waited, the eleven of us, in the room, small and cramped, filled with a thin kind of emptiness – what were weContinueContinue reading “#19room”
#18lamb
the sacrifice of a lamb could not carry away the people’s sin, however much they tried. It was not strong enough to smash the weight of it, nothing was. And then Jesus came, who was led meekly but not weakly to the cross, for he knew that in his quiet death, he would lift the weightContinueContinue reading “#18lamb”
#17kiss
the very word itself is leaning in, touching: the way that k pushes up close to that i; a close and personal thing. I think of the way I kiss my baby in the morning; I breathe her in and my lips meet her warm brow with a burst of endorphins. and I remember tooContinueContinue reading “#17kiss”
#14- follow
Follow, not as the sheep follows, unthinking and mindless. Follow rather as a listener on foot in a vast and lonely hill country, paying attention only to the placing of the feet, one in front of the other, on the soft and craggy ground, listening to the small voice that speaks, that says, this way,ContinueContinue reading “#14- follow”
#13-walk
the simple act of putting one foot in front of another, even if you are not sure where you are going, and the truth that you are not alone, there is another who walks alongside, or even carrying.
#12- See
‘My life is the light that pierces the world’s darkness’, he said, as he spat on the ground. He knelt to scoop up a handful of spittle and mud and rubbed it in his palm to make a paste. He smeared it gently on the man’s eyes. ‘Blind from birth’, we whispered between ourselves, ‘hisContinueContinue reading “#12- See”
#11 Cleanse
I think of washing something so hot and so thoroughly that it comes out like new. I think of the white lambs down the lane again, untarnished by this muddy life, (all except for their bony knees, for they must kneel to find their mother’s milk). And just like this, life has a way ofContinueContinue reading “#11 Cleanse”
#10 Hosanna
Like today, when you wake to a celebration, a cacophony of noise in the valley. The birds sing, their voices a rising chorus, the sun is hot as it blazes its glory all over the place, and the sheep call out, loudly. Does it not seem to you that the whole earth is shouting outContinueContinue reading “#10 Hosanna”
#9 servant
Sometimes it feels as if all of this could fall apart, as if we are all hanging on by a thread. How often did it feel like that to you, I wonder? How often did you wonder if this master plan would work? With all the washing of feet, the talking of forgiveness and eatingContinueContinue reading “#9 servant”
#8 journey
each of us somewhere along the path. scattered, some resting, some running. some holding the hands of the very young, and some, the very old. but it isn’t a race, it is companionship. it is pacing ourselves, walking well, because this whole life is a journey, from the time we first wake until theContinueContinue reading “#8 journey”
#7 truth
there was a lamb down the lane lying on the cold grass, its mother standing helplessly by. we have seen the farmer before now, lift a stiff lamb and hurl it into the back of his truck. it is survival of the fittest, no time to care for the weakest ones. if they make it,ContinueContinue reading “#7 truth”
#6 solitude
solo. alone with a dream, but listening, always, for a change in the plan. learning to walk at a steady pace, one step in front of the other, in front of the other, not wishing any of this away. peace in the way that I walk, for, at the end of it all, my lifeContinueContinue reading “#6 solitude”
#5 weak
If I am weak, then there is more room for you to pour through, water through my desert, rain over the dry riverbed of my soul, and in its wake the miracle of tiny buds, blooming all over this desert, hidden gifts bought to life by water, and it makes me think, if I amContinueContinue reading “#5 weak”
#4 bread
even today, our lives circle around it; the warm dough, it’s salt crust. toast and marmalade, dipped into soup, mopping up sausage stew, but it is not enough, we hunger again, and as essential as it is, you say, ‘There is more. Come.’
#3 sustain
Oh Lord, sustain me when I am weak when I cannot carry on. Give me food, safety, rest, the knowledge that I am enough, that my life matters to you, that I am not just a product of chance, a whim of the world, but a living daughter, dear to your heart, that my dreamsContinueContinue reading “#3 sustain”
#2 temptation
it would be easy to think that hope wouldn’t last, that it could be stamped out, that a little frail thing like that shoot wouldn’t be strong enough to last through the droughts and storms. tempting to imagine that it was all in your own hands now, that you had been left alone, and youContinueContinue reading “#2 temptation”
#1 wasteland
my hands scratch at the dust, this crumbling ground. they feel their way around this void, try to fathom it, to make sense of it. I dig in desperation to work out what we are doing here in the dust, when we are meant to be sons and daughters. but in the desert we needContinueContinue reading “#1 wasteland”
Typewriter Poem Collection
by Little Bird Editions The typewriter poem collection is now up on Etsy! This is one of the designs – click the link below to find the others..All of these are available in A6, A5, A4 or A3 printed on Hahnemuhle German etching 310gsm paper with non fade pigment based inks 🙂 I will beContinueContinue reading “Typewriter Poem Collection”
New Spontaneous Typewriter Poem
This poem went out a couple of days ago. Thank you for all your orders, I’ve been really enjoying writing them. There are still five left at the bargain price of £1 then they will be going up to their normal price of £5 (Free postage). Remember you can order one for a friend orContinueContinue reading “New Spontaneous Typewriter Poem”
Voice at the Window: 100 gratitude poems written during lockdown release!
And just like that, they’ve flown the nest.. my books are winging their way to your homes over the next few days and I hope they lift your hearts a little as you read. Thanks again for all your support. Am just having a celebratory cup of tea in the sunshine. 🤗 ☕️ 🌞 xxxContinueContinue reading “Voice at the Window: 100 gratitude poems written during lockdown release!”
Voice at the Window press feature in Oh magazine!
Delighted to have a piece in this months @ohmaguk all about the power of gratitude. You can see more of my press features here. #oh #gratitude #lockdown #lockdownpoetry #poetry #poem #gratitudepoem
Gratitude, a weapon
View from the kitchen window, 6.30am. Gratitude, a weapon It could be seen as incongruous, offensive, even, to write gratitude poems during a global pandemic, and I did think this to myself as well, as I was writing them, but what if gratitude is exactly what we need to get us through? Gratitude willContinueContinue reading “Gratitude, a weapon”
Gratitude #52
A line from #52 which was all about the wisdom of the trees and the way that they come back, resilient with LIFE, even through storms, forest fires and whatever else life throws at them. Do you wonder what this strangest of years is growing in you? Has it already sent you off on aContinueContinue reading “Gratitude #52”
Voice at the Window: 142% funded already!
😮 😮 😮 One of my biggest joys is writing and then putting that writing out into the world and I’m so excited about this project. Today I thought I’d share a little Fred Voss with you. In ‘Poetry Jackpot’, he writes about his fellow workers on a factory shop floor; ‘I wish the machinistsContinueContinue reading “Voice at the Window: 142% funded already!”
Voice at the Window, Elisabeth Pike, interview on Premier Radio!
Had myself a little interview on Premier radio yesterday! 😬 It will be aired at some point this week but you can also catch it here: https://www.premier.org.uk/Across-the-UK/The-Midlands/Voice-at-the-Window The beginning sounds a bit garbled and as I said to Joel, I can’t think when I speak, only when I put my thoughts down on paper but…ContinueContinue reading “Voice at the Window, Elisabeth Pike, interview on Premier Radio!”
Voice at the Window: Kickstarter news!
Wow! We made it! 100% on day 2!! You guys are amazing! Thanks for believing in me and my book 🙂 no need to stop though- you can still preorder a copy if you want one via the Kickstarter link (in bio) and if I have any surplus funding, I will increase the print runContinueContinue reading “Voice at the Window: Kickstarter news!”
Voice at the Window: Kickstarter launches tomorrow!
K I C K S T A R T E R C A M P A I G N L A U N C H E S T O M O R R O W! From tomorrow you’ll be able to preorder the book for yourself and you’ll also be helping me to get toContinueContinue reading “Voice at the Window: Kickstarter launches tomorrow!”
Gratitude #87
#87 #gratitude #gratitudepoem https://www.instagram.com/p/CAgURPunkJ7/?igshid=cocrtp8w79o4 EDIT: This poem is featured in Voice at the Window: One hundred poems written during lockdown which was published thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign. You can get it here: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/870191768/voice-at-the-window-one-hundred?ref=shop_home_active_9&frs=1
Gratitude #11
#11 #gratitude #thankful #peace #poem #gratitudepoem https://www.instagram.com/p/B9ckQN4n5ML/?igshid=jlekho570d50 EDIT: This poem is featured in Voice at the Window: One hundred poems written during lockdown which was published thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign. You can get it here: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/870191768/voice-at-the-window-one-hundred?ref=shop_home_active_9&frs=1
Burst; a poem by Elisabeth Pike
Burst The things that I see and touch consume me; the work that I must do, the dinner that I must cook, and the house that must be tidied fill up the space in my mind. And when I close my eyes, all I can see is the bustle of things, like a humming city,ContinueContinue reading “Burst; a poem by Elisabeth Pike”
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”
#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.
#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”
#85
‘Mummy’, he whispers in my ear, ‘Come close to me’. He is full of cold. It is nice to be wanted by this boisterous boy for a change. He can normally do it all himself. I move my head to his press my cheek against his fluffy hair, and soon he breathes the deep rhythmContinueContinue reading “#85”
#84
She won’t sit still next to me on the sofa, she jumps all over it as everyone else lazes in that post tea-time lull. She has started to tell me her dreams. ‘There’s a blue train’, she says, ‘it’s gone off the rails, it’ going on the grass.’ Freedom, I think, for her, Her lifeContinueContinue reading “#84”
#83
We are ships in the night, But I can’t complain. This is what we have wanted for so long. Tiny Leaves is making headway, travelling lightly, moving onwards.
#82
I could sit here all night and listen to the falling of rain outside. I am meant to be reading but keep getting distracted by the scrape of new furniture along the floorboards next door, by this outrageous rain that soaks with no apology. We have new neighbours, the children sleep, he has found aContinueContinue reading “#82”
#81
We go in to the caves by torchlight, he leads the way. He loves being the leader, being the quickest, the fastest, always. We won’t let his dreams defeat him.
#79
A week full of school things and not enough sleep or headspace, and there are twelve little pirates coming to play on Saturday. I want it to be special for him but I have to admit I’ll be glad when it is done with.
#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”
#74
He does it again, my adventurer. Has a gig, plucks a cellist from the next village along. The car breaks on the way so the RAC man takes him a couple of junctions up the motorway to meet a hire car so he can still get there, in the end, to walk onstage and toContinueContinue reading “#74”
#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”
Flag on a hillside
He knocks at our back door, stands in the kitchen with the weight of something to say. We are eating dinner with the kids and he starts to tell us about the day before, how he had met an old friend, how he used to love her. The tears spring to his eyes and weContinueContinue reading “Flag on a hillside”
#72
Tired tonight after friends staying, so they fall into bed, her clutching her pretend jewel, him dreaming through the stories. Littlest asleep in the other room already. Sometimes it works like clockwork and these little ones too tired to protest.
#71 – Sadness
It is like a lurch in the heart, not a pang of love, but that same throb. It gathers at the centre of my ribcage, a fistful of cloth. It is a pebble, hard and smooth that will not be moved or chipped away. It is a mouth fixed downwards, a resigned stare, a gentleContinueContinue reading “#71 – Sadness”
#70
They dream of jousting but when we are there, they are scared and can’t understand it is make-believe. We walk in circles through the maze find the secret tunnel and come up behind the waterfall. It is a magical day.
#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.
#68
Martha has us for lunch today; A table full of dishes carefully prepared. The children play with her childhood toys And bounce on her trampoline. I can remember that summer, that transition time; The leaving and settling as I went off to uni.
#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”
#64
Busy today, We go from thing to thing to thing. And quiet now, They have all gone. We watch red dry pictures of Australia on TV. We drink strong tea, feeling tired, feeling thankful, still that some days things are just normal.
#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”
#62
It feels like I can breathe a sigh of relief, perhaps. Not that he is home yet, But out of the woods, let’s say. A funny week, Of tenterhooks and distracted anxiety. Of offered prayers, Of thankfulness.
#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”
#59
The moon is as bright as a lamp tonight; it lights the road as I walk across. The wind whips the bushes and trees up into a fury behind me. I am glad for the yellow warmth of home, for the door opened to welcome me in.
#58
After eating a good meal that we will remember for a long time, we wander around the cobbled streets of this old town. We head up to St Chads to see the fireworks, and they open the gates to let us in- an unexpected gift. The fireworks open like flowers before us in the blackContinueContinue reading “#58”
#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”
#54
We are blown away by this life, these words, this hope, this kindness. We must start to live differently.
#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”
#51
I can just remember now, if I close my eyes, the feel of that electric blue water, my hands pushing it aside as I swam, I can feel the wet steam being pulled slowly, into my lungs. I can smell the hot wood, feel it burn against my back as I lie down on theContinueContinue reading “#51”
#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.
#49
What have I loved most today? A day with nothing to do. Painting in the garden, tea and cake for elevenses. Three happy children, sun shining. They dance in the sprinkler, she sings ‘it’s summer!’
#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.
#47
Many times we have driven up this road, in desperation to get back, to rest, to frantically search for the place where we could slow down, where we could breathe deeply. But now in the blue shades of the sunset on the M40, we are driving home. And for once I am at peace withContinueContinue reading “#47”
#46
A fifties dress that kicks out from the waist, and a pair of bright red shoes, for walking down the aisle. She looks beautiful and as confident as she ever was; without loud words but with something else that speaks truer and deeper: her loud kindness, a loud life.
#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.
#40
He won’t stay in bed. It is 8pm. I have been up since 6. I have to go to the supermarket. In two days we are going camping. I’m already exhausted. Sometimes, yes, it is too much.
#39
I took the fabric from my mother for these curtains, It came from her mother she said. In the daytime they look cream But at this time, the early evening or the morning, the leaves and prints come through, All delicate and secret until the light is just right.
#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”
elisabeth pike 