And so

What do you do

When you reach the end

And you have fallen

A million times

Or so it seems

Because you are blind

And you cannot walk

And you have cried

And you have screamed

And you have been rejected


When all you wanted

Was a voice

And when someone else

Pours their woes

Onto you

What do you do?

You pull yourself up




Wanting really only

To die

You think of ways

To end it all

But then


You pull yourself up

And you walk again

Through your lonely day

Needing only

A human touch

Yes, you do,

You pull yourself up

Until next time

Sent from my iPad


One day

I will tell the truth

about my life

and the  truth will shock

you will recoil

i may even disgust you

and so

i do not speak

of the reality

of my life

much as I want to

for my reality

would drive you away

and then

i would be even more friendless

than I am

i do not see beauty

in each day

when I wake

i feel fear

wondering if I will get through

wondering if my husband

my only Carer

will fall out

of his wheelchair


or forget

to turn the gas off


Or pee himself


i feel exhaution

as I try

to drag my body round

banging into things

as I go

unable to see

falling onto the toilet

because I do not know where it is

and I cannot stand

my body aches

and hurts

and my skin

itches like fury

from the neuropathy

chemo stinks


each day

is supposed

to bring hope

but for me

it is just



and some days

an inability

to carry on

and even in

reaching out

you get rebuffed

when all you want

is to hear a voice

a kind word

an understanding

that yes

for you

life is SHIT







How does one wwrite a poem about anger?  I am so angry.  I do not normally suffer from anger, because it is such a destructive emotion that I made a decision years ago to cut it out of my life.  But it is the most painful emotion I have ever felt.  I am ANGRY right now.  With life.  With our government.  With so many people.  Reasons.

I don’t know what you do with anger, because if you push it inwards it becomes depression.  Then that leads you on a downward spiral.  I hate anger.

I am on a short fuse.  It is life.  This bloidy virus that has torn our world apart.  The enforced isolatin.  No voices at the other end of the phone.  Just NO ONE.  Dealing with blindness and disability.  With no help.  And whenever yountry to reach out and contact someone they don’t want to know.  People who profess so mych, but who  give so little.

Yes, I am angry.  An anger that comes from isolation and deep despiar and a need for human touch.


I have no time
For wasters
Who dredge me dry
Draining my well
Leaving me parched
I have no time
For sycophants
Who live on borrowed time
Basking in someone else’s light
Thieves and hypocrites
Stealing the limelight
For a moment’s glory
I have no time
For mine is gone
And I have none to give to you


This afternoon we received a frantic phone call from my sister.  She works as a cleaner.  She has a morning and an evening job.  The morning one is at a local college.  She cleans in the NHS Building at the college.  They test for coronavirus there.  It is specially for NHS staff though.  To get tested.  But it is always busy.

As a cleaner, my sister has not been provided with either masks or gloves or any protection whatsoever.  She has not been told to wear any – until NOW.

Today she received a phone call saying that she MUST wear a mask tomorrow and always now, and also gloves, because the DOCTORS AND NURSES HAVE BEEN PUTTING CLINICAL WASTE FROM TESTING INTO THE ORDINARY RUBBISH BINS that the cleaners empty.  They are meant to put it into the c,inical waste bins.

Today my sister had a terrible cough.  She made little of it, saying it was just a “tickle cough.”  But it sounded worse than that.  Her co worker has one too.

Obviously my husband and I are extremely concerned by this.  It seems that even the NHS staff cannot be trusted to do the right thing.  I am shocked.



What a contrast last night between the shopping mall and the pregnant sheep in the field in the setting sun. Each spoke differently.

The shopping mall, though kind of operative again, has a dead feel to it. Nothing like it used to be. And yesterday afternoon the fountain was turned off again. There were hardly any cars there, which is far from normal. It feels weird because Gregg’s is open, and the Cup Cake shop, and the music was playing. Normally people would get their sandwich or whatever, and a coffee or cold drink, and sit on the grass around the fountain. People would be carrying plants, and flowers from the flower shop near the fountain. Or they would be sitting at the tables outside, just relaxing. Kids would be playing with balls, or whatever, and running in and out of the fountain, getting their clothes drenched! Mums and Dads did it quite often too!

But yesterday there was no life. Yes, people were doing a bit of shopping, but actually, most of them were hurrying. No stopping in the warm sunshine and relaxing, talking to one another. I felt as though someone was trying to create an illusion of happiness and normality. The spaced out queues said it all.

In the evening however, we felt that we had touched LIFE again. We had not realised before that the sheep were pregnant, although we go past them most days. But just to see the movement of a lamb in the belly of the sheep almost sent us into ecstasy. Here was REAL LIFE, not the death of life as we know it.

In nature there is still hope.