I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

16 April 2011


I wish I could talk to you now
and ask you to tell me the stories.

My other Grandma
lived longer and told me tales

of my Dad when he was a boy,
and all his sisters and brothers.

But you, Nana, could have told me
stories about yourself.

I want to know about India
when you lived there,

your hotel on the beach,
and the people in the old photos.

But most of all I always wanted
the guidance you would have given me

all the years of my growing up,
because you were loving and wise.

Mum and Aunty Franki
always asked your advice.

I can remember that, and remember
their skirts and flirty hats.

But I was only four when you died.
If I try, I can almost remember your voice.

Day 11 - A deceased person you wish you could talk to

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