When summer ends and dark nights come
Its colours fade and all is done
Leaves fall off trees lie on the ground
Dying there without a sound

I too lie here there’s no more sun
I fade as light no more is shone
To earth’s dark secrets I am bound
When summer ends

But in this dark my soul does run
With thoughts of grace my brain to stun
For growth begins in dark night’s wound
The seed brings Life as Day comes round
Earth’s womb gives birth as Joy is sprung
As summer ends


By the wall where the robin sat the leaves fell
A cushion on the ground made my heart swell
The red of his breast matched the berries I saw
Plump with the life that I knew before

I too had fallen this tale I tell
One that so many know so well
On the ground lies new life, an open door
By the wall where the robin sat

Inside we may feel we have gone to hell
Agonies black in our hearts do dwell
But beckoning us is a golden shore
And the robin sings now of its wondrous store
Knowing that blessings await us galore
By the wall where the robin sat


It was a mystical moment, in the half light of the evening. The tractors in the fields that in the sunlight had glowed golden, harvesting the wheat. It felt almost mesmerising in its beauty, and it took me back to a time way back in the past, when as a child I sat, with my grandparents and all the men from the village who had worked so hard in the scorching sun to get the harvest in. My grandmother had brought plates piled high with sandwiches and huge jugs of tea for the men. It was like a party. The happiest party of the year. Everyone was singing and laughing, and Shot, the dog, in his exuberance, tried to chase a stray rabbit down a rabbit hole to the sounds of

“STOP that, Shot.”

Shot reluctantly but duly obeyed. The men, however, became more and more unruly in their singing.

A few unharvested strands of wheat on the edge of the field caught my attention, and I started to try to stook them. My first ever attempt at stooking corn. It was a beautiful moment. How proud I was of my stook, standing there strong and proud in the field.

Those were golden days. Days that smiled. And I, as a child, drank from them.
(To be continued)


I am going home. I have started the journey home.

I returned to the place of my youth. To connect. To know good things once again. To live in my memories. Beautiful memories. They had died to me. But I made them live again.

It was a hot summer’s day when I returned. Just like those I had known at the farm. It always was a place of refuge. And it always seemed sunny there.

How can I capture all those memories in words? I do not know. Yet I must.

I sat, on the rise, watching horses go by. And in that moment I KNEW – this was where I wanted to be buried. This was where I must be brought – on a horse drawn cart. Back to my home, to rest for ever.

We left, when I was a baby. We left that beautiful place. It feels like an eternity separates me from that time. But now, I want to spend the rest of eternity there. Drawn there by the horses. And on my gravestone the words, “Home at Last.”

Tears pour from my eyes as I contemplate that not too far away time. I have travelled far, and long. But now I am coming home. Home at last.
(To be continued)


I return to the days that were safe
Held in moments
Lasting for eternity
My soul battered now
I seek comfort in those elusive moments
Fir I am trapped in time
Looking for eternity
From a wild windswept moor
I tumble down
Falling into those moments
Letting them hold me
I die in those moments
Caressed by love


The horses soon will carry me home
Up the hill where I used to roam
Where many have halted on its brow
Folks bowed in reverence walking slow

Earth will one day be my tomb
Sunlight trickling through the gloom
Gone for ever life’s wild show
The horses soon will carry me

Here I was taken from the womb
Named and given for sorrow to groom
Staring at the wide eyed doe
We grieve for life and all its woe
Now in awe I face my doom
The horses soon will carry me


Trees stand strong shading us all
We take from their life we hear their call
Hypnotised by the dark forest deep
Under their branches we’re wont to sleep

Like birds we nestle in giants tall
When the woes of life bring about a fall
When we face the sad fact that life is cheap
Trees stand strong

When bitter is life’s cup of gall
We hear the dreaded death bell’s pall
Limp our bodies can only creep
When even the skies with us do weep
When all we hit is a hard brick wall
Trees stand strong


Wash in the rivers
Flowing from the temple
Bathe joyfully
In the golden light
Freeing yourself
In your own divine essence
Forgetting all that is past
Washing away
The sins of the fathers
The leprous wounds
In the clear pure waters
And hear said uniquely to you
“Be clean”
And know
That gone are the dirty rags
That clothed your soul
From the waters of the womb
Be clean
Be clean
Oh joyful sound
Singing with the waters
That nourish every living being
For these are the true waters
Of your new birth
Poured down upon you
Oh wash, drink, taste
Of their glory
Oh golden ones


You took much from me
My very essence
The core of my womanhood
And its fruits
But now they live with
The Mother of all Mothers
In arms made specially for them
Beneath the Cross of suffering
Safe now from cruel nails
That nailed them to their bloodied Cross
And when the waters broke
Gushed forth
Their unformed bodies spewed out
But waiting
Was the Great Mother
Who waits and watches
The suffering of the workd
And now I know
I need not fear
The fruits of my womb are safe


Don’t squeeze me
Don’t idealise me
Give me wriggle room
Let me expand
Let me contract
Let me whirl
Let me curl
I bend you know
I am not static
I am not fixed
I am wild
You can’t tame me
You can’t catch me
There I go
In a puff of wind


If I were you and you were me,
What different colours would we see?
For I am blind and you can’t hear,
What different things would we hold dear?
The grass is green, what does that mean?
It could be blue, things only seem
To paint a picture bold and true
That means the same to me and you.

If you were me and I were you,
How would we hear the colour blue?
It’s not just words that shed the light
On all life’s questions big and small,
There’s none that mean the same to all,
I wonder if you’ll now agree
That different shades we all will see,
That white is black, and black is white,
But all has meaning in Love’s sight.


When silence goes to sleep she cries
Lying where the rose bush dies
Pricking thorns become her bed
Here where once her dreams were fed

Sleeping as the willow sighs
Where the watching night owl flies
Earth is where she rests her head
When silence goes to sleep

Waking soon she starts to rise
With the best and with the wise
She in sleep her sadness shed
Evil monsters from her fled
As the lark flies to the skies
When silence wakes



Forsooth, I ne’er must eat blue cheese again,
However coquettishly it doth wink,
E’en if it says to me its name is Bren,
It ne’er again will bring me to the brink,
Ne’er have I forgot its wondrous smooth curves,
Blue veins forming a perfect labyrinth,
No man on earth such fire doth he deserve,
Yet hark, I hear it calling from its plinth,
Forsooth, it surely speaks my name – “Derek”,
“Come hither Derek, place me in your mouth,
Hear now, I swear I’ll drive you almost manic,
There is no better cheese made in the South.”
Ho, there is nothing now that I can do,
She always said I was a silly moo.


You the God
I the Magdalen
The Whore
Who would not kiss your feet
My “No” was “No”
But you said “Yes”
And stole my ointment
Pulled me to your feet
You who claimed to be God
“Kiss my feet” you said
“No” I said
“But you are the Whore” he said
“You will do anything for me”
The Whore kicked God in the balls


You the God
I the Magdalen
The Whore
Who would not kiss your feet
My “No” was “No”
But you said “Yes”
And stole my ointment
Pulled me to your feet
You who claimed to be God
“Kiss my feet” you said
“No” I said
“But you are the Whore” he said
“You will do anything for me”
The Whore kicked God in the bal


Trapped like an animal
You claw at your cage
Made captive by powerful ones
Who do it for fun
You are sport
Feeding their needs
Their pretences draw you in
Then Bang!
The cage door shuts
You were their prey
And now, they watch you pace and squirm
Oh how they love you they say
Confess, confess
Tell me all
Your life your pains oh blind one
And then……..
You, the sinner.
They the God.


The darkness flows into our mortal lives,
Unasked for, unexpected, sure it comes,
For the most part every one of us strives
To dispel that which now before us looms,
But as it beckons we must enter in,
Embracing it, not fighting its advent,
Fighting it will never help us to win
The fruits that grow within what has been sent,
Within the darkness gems are to be found,
And soon we will discover our true self,
To the things that hold us we will not be bound,
In letting go we find a greater wealth,
Only the darkness can deliver us
And make us free without incurring loss


I winced as you bound up the wounds you had made
Kindness itself you were right then
Moments after your beating you changed
You loved me and kissed me and I felt quite sick

What monster could love the one he had beaten?
What sickness dwelt deep in his heart?
And I, in trauma that couldn’t speak
Accepted his love in confusion and pain

Much time has passed now and this monster has changed
Yet still I don’t know the truth of his soul
Not much time left now I guess we’ll get through
As he binds up my wounds once again.


Why do we feel we have to be quiet?
Ashamed of what others have done
As if somehow it is our own fault
As if it is we who are the dirty ones.

And so we smile and go on our way
Hiding the hurt that lives deep inside
Quashing our tears, the depth of our pain
If we show what we feel we get smashed again

We know so much pain we can take no more
It’s best it is hidden within our hearts
No one shall see what is hidden within
And we almost burst with the strain

Oh how strong we must be to go on
Telling no one what we’re going through
Laughing and joking with the best of them
But inside the crying knows no bounds at all

What will be the ending of us?
How much more can our bodies take?
One day they will break like shattering glass
And they’ll lie on the ground in a million pieces


Looking back I see my life
With wiser eyes sharp as a knife
Cutting through the weeds and dross
Knowing gain and knowing loss

Much of it was trouble and strife
Emotions then were running rife
Memories come that are so gross
Looking back

I tried to be your view of a wife
But things went wrong I was lowlife
And so you bruised my body because
You really didn’t give a toss
All you did was give me grief
Looking back


This story is true except that I didn’t land up in the police station!


What the hell am I doing in here
Lord? It wasn’t ny fault. It was his. It should be him in here, not me. Getting me on the floor like that. Sitting there on tbe settee looking down at me, all supercilious like. Who did he think he was? Oh yeah – a priest. Clinical Thelology my foot! More like a kick for him, at my expense.

He thought he was it! Arrogant so and so. There I was, on the floor, him telling me to say whatever came into my head. Well, I wasn’t going to tell him THAT!. He just sat there, silent, refusing to speak. It didn’t half make me mad. A whole hour this went on. And him, just sitting there looking down on me. What the hell did he think he was doing? Even when I didn’t speak, he refused to. I felt as though he was trying to get me, catch me out somehow. My head was getting in a right mess.

So there we were. And I was getting madder and madder. I began to wriggle and squirm on the floor. I remember that bit. And he just sat there, watching me. I’m sure he knew. Bet that was what he was trying to do. MAKE me mad. Something about getting anger out. Oh I know all these modern psychological methods. Well I wasn’t going to give anything. He wasn’t going to get inside MY head!

Told him to go, in the end. I wasn’t having any of it! But BOY, had he raised anger! He sure knew how to do it! But he got more than he bargained for!

I knew where he lived. I got madder and madder, even after he had gone. It was all going round in my head. He wasn’t going to get away with this.

I went round to his house. And Lord, You know the rest! Knocked on his door. He invited me in. Then he started going on about the man next door to him. Said he grew lots of flowers from seeds. Put the seed packets in sticks in the garden where he had planted the seeds. Gave a sarcastic laugh as he told me. Saw some ulterior motive in it. Typical flippin psychologist. Think they know what’s going on inside everyone’s head. And it’s always something bad. Thought the man was trying to show off and impress him by putting thr pictures of the flowers facing him. He never thought, did he, that the man had done it in oder to be able to read the backs.of the seed packets.m oh no, it had to be something nasty.

Well, already my mad was up, but this riled me even more. I’d only gone there to tell him off. I never intended what happened next. I swear to You I didn’t. The mad got the better of me and I whacked him with my handbag! On the side of his face. His glasses ended up all crooked on one side of his face, and he had a bright red mark on his cheek. He looked so surprised.
“I could take you to the police for this you know.”

“Yeah, and I could YOU, as well.”

Trouble is, he DID. And now I’m here Lord. What shall I do?

You know I didn’t set off to do it. My mad just got up, and he sure had put me in touch with my anger. He got more than he bargained for.

Just goes to show that you shouldn’t mess inside someone’s head.

But what am I going to do now Lord? I’M going to take the whack for this. I sure am not going to get entwined with a psychologist type ever again, once we have got out of this mess Lord. Can You help me?”


I broke
With your harsh words,
Could not get up again,
My God had sent my suffering
You said
I needed it, I fell heavy
Onto the ground, your hand
Offering me
My Lord

I felt
The sting of words
That were a chastisement
My suffering deserved, I pushed
My Lord
Not able to bear that He sent
This pain to me, for days
I laid so low,
But today, I rise


As daylight came she greeted the light
Opening gently her eyes without sight
Her heart beating strong within her breast
Refreshed in the dawning by hours of rest

Now began the new day’s fight
Dreams of fancy took their flight
Now she faced this new day’s test
As daylight came

Gone were the horrors of the night
Now the sun made all things bright
All she could do was try her best
Making Love a welcome guest
Everything would be alright
As morning came


Soft streams of gentleness flow
To comfort those who weep
Bathe in their healing waters
That disturb your grieving soul
Let them caress you tenderly
Bind your wounds
Kissing you with deepest love
Oh yes
There is love for you
Love too deep for words of poetry
Only the waters can heal you
We were meant for the water
Conceived in the wetness of Divine Waters
Bathe your body and your soul
Gently in the waters
Oh my child
Be healed


Christmas is always a terrible time for me. So many bad memories, and so much isolation.

There is always pressure to be in the light at Christmas time. Everything is about light. Everyone is happy and jolly.

Christmas 2016 was, for me, very different to what Christmas had ever been before. Before, I had just felt the pain. But in 2016 it was more than pain. I had found something. It was the DARKNESS. The darkness glowed for me. And, whilst everyone was trying to drag me into the LIGHT, all that I wanted was to cling to this mystical darkness that gave me a greater peace than I had ever known before. To take it from me would be like wrenching my baby from me. To wrench it from me would be to have me kicking and screaming. In desperation I would be trying to hold onto it. It was my salvation.

I had known much suffering in my life, but more recently I had known a very deep suffering. I had had cancer, a very severe cancer that almost killed me. The treatment had made me go blind, and also unable to walk, so I was wheelchair bound. I also had lung issues, and could not feel with my hands and feet. Life was hard. It was made even harder by the fact that my husband also was in a wheelchair. We struggled to survive.

I was shocked to discover that people were not always kind to me. In fact, they could be very cruel. The struggle to learn to live as a blind person was intense. It was not made easier by people’s attitudes towards me.

One day, the cruelty reached its height. People would often wave at me from a distance and expect me to smile and wave back. Of course, I failed to do this. On this day someone came to me and told me that I was stuck up and stand offish because I did not wave at people when they waved at me. I was then told that I had the sin of pride. A most serious sin.

The pain that this caused me went right off the scale. I was in agony. Life was hard enough, without this. I did not know what to do with myself. Nothing would assuage the pain.

That evening, I went to a little church that I often went to, in an isolated hamlet. It was dark, but I went inside the church anyway. I did not know why I had gone, for I was dead inside. I felt like stone. Nothing could ever comfort me again, or get past this hard stone. It was impossible now, that anything could ever get though to me again.

I sat there in the darkness of the church – a place that was very special to me. I expected nothing. Waves of pain were coursing through me. I was unsaveable. I wondered what I was doing there – why I was there. Nothing could happen here any more.

As I sat there in the total darkness, a most amazing thing suddenly happened. I felt the darkness putting its arms around me. It put its arms around me and comforted me. I felt the most intense peace. I sat there for a long time like that, just being comforted. All the pain left me. It was the most incredible experience. I had never ever had one like it before. I left that church a different person. A miracle had happened. The impossible had occurred.

As I contemplated what had happened, I felt that it was the DARKNESS ITSELF that had out its arms around me, not God IN the darkness, but the actual darkness. And so, it seemed that the darkness itself was GOD. It hardly made sense, and yet it made the greatest sense ever. I was set free. The darkness was now my Friend. The darkness was precious to me. It was like the Pearl of Great Price.

And so, we approached Christmas. The darkness was my Precious Friend. It GLOWED. It was beautiful. But I was being dragged into the light, by all of what was around me. I knew that the only way to get through Christmas was to hang onto this dazzling and wonderful darkness. The light was NOT for me.

I am still exploring the darkness. It is a mystical darkness in which are to be found many treasures. But here, there are no waymarks. Everything is unfamiliar. In fact, you can see NOTHING, physically. You can only “see” with the eyes of your heart. And, when your physical sight is taken away, you “see” differently. You see the things that really matter.

Today, I live my life differently. I am open. I have no preconceptions. I am open to the Divine Darkness



Life lasts
Not for ever,
Our time here is so short,
Nothing stays the same for ever,
Our minds
Are small
Defined by the box we live in
But eternity calls
Remember, we
Are dust


Halo shines out into the darkness
White on dark oak piercing in sharpness
Fall down on knees in deepest awe
Searching for truth my knees on the floor

Here I cry my tears in the starkness
Trying to rid my soul of its blackness
Why to this place did You me draw?
Halo shines out

Time goes by as I kneel in the stillness
Respite from the world and all its shrillness
My soul thirsting now to know You more
What wonders now do You have in store?
I swore that day I could smell the incense
Halo shines out


I’m leading you into the darkness again
So said my God to me
I knew it was true and I’ve been there before
But the darkness just makes you free

In the darkness you cannot see anyone’s face
But the dark is the face of your God
I’m used to being right here in the dark
The earth is my very sod

In the darkness you don’t know where you are
There are no landmarks to see
Yet somehow you get from place to place
It’s exactly where you should be

In the light I grow old with the sun on my head
Shrivelling up my soul
In the dark I am young without any cares
It is here that I reach my goal

I welcome the dark with an open heart
I am glad that I’m here to be led
By nothing but grace from the Love of my life
Right here will my soul be fed

Don’t fear the dark it’s a beautiful place
Just let your soul wander within
Bright gems will be found as you wander around
Your Beloved salvation will bring


By the ancient church there stands a tree
Bearing red berries for all to see
Summer is ending and soon will come
Cold winter’s chill and a weaker sun

Many pass by and all agree
That the tree is really meant to be
There for all time till life is done
By the ancient church

Sight of the tree for all is free
Protection is held within its lee
Eternal life for souls is won
The greatest race of their life has been run
And now the bell tolls it sounds for me
By the ancient church


Before I loved I knew not love
You warmed my heart and showed me all
Now I know what love can prove

I used to hear the mourning dove
Every morning hear its call
Before I loved I knew not love

The sun now warms me from above
Soft rays shine down from heavenly ball
Now I know what love can prove

I now have found this treasure trove
How could such wonder me befall
Before I loved I knew not love

Within my breast my heart does move
As love fulfils it highest call
Before I loved I knew not love
Now I know what love can prove


My mind’s gone on a hike
Yes it has
Not sure where to
Not sure where it is
But it’s gone
Travelling light
Taking nothing with it
No shoes
No coat
No staff
And with nothing to hold it down
It can go where it likes
Like a will’o the wisp
Following its fancy
No rules
No bonds
No chains
No sin
No judgement
No one to displease
No one to annoy
I have lost my mind
Maybe I’ll find it again one day



Rowan you stand there to guard
All souls in this old churchyard
Many years have you stood there
Watching all that come for prayer

Souls that went through times so hard
Found solace here though inly scarred
Knowing freedom here from care
Rowan you stand there

Many lives by battles marred
Look up to the sky so starred
In the night when wounds do tear
Open for all to see and stare
Here they come their souls to bare
Rowan you stand there


As she lay there in the field
Knowing that here she would be healed
By the sun that shone and the green grass too
Creating the past for her anew

In childhood days nature would yield
Healing powers forever sealed
In her heart and memory too
As she lay

By many lies she’d been beguiled
Things you should never tell a child
She couldn’t recount what she’d been through
As her body grew and grew
But now like the flowers she grew wild
As she lay

RAPE.*Trigger warning.

It was dark inside the church. Dark as the hell inside her. It was a few years since “the THING” had happened to her. Mostly now, it was way back in her mind. But the darkness still remained.

She had gone to light candles. To pierce the darkness. Hers and her friend’s. Her friend had been attacked by her own dog, and now she was being monitored for rabies. She had spent the last two days on the phone with her friend, listening, trying to calm her. But all that there was to do now was light candles.

Kathy entered the church – a place which had become her home since “the THING” had happened. Well, she said it was her home, but in reality nowhere felt safe any more. “Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes” he had sung as he did “the THING”to her. Who could ever be safe again, after that? It was harvest time. “The time is ripe,” he had whispered in her ear as he grabbed her breast.

She had fought. Oh yes, she had fought. But what is a 7 stone woman against a 17 stone man?

“Can you remember the FIGHT?” asked her distant relative upon hearing about it. Her eyes gleamed as she waited for the answer. Kathy just mumbled something. Weren’t you MEANT to fight? And weren’t you MEANT to win? But SHE hadn’t. Naughty girl.

Oh but WAIT. Wasn’t the distant relative GLAD that she hadn’t won the fight. Because now, she could be entertained with the salacious story of something that some women only ever dream about.

Kathy had kept her grubby little secret all the time she had been in this, her new home. A place of candles, and incense, and prayers rising to heaven. Not like her old home with its guitars and jangling tunes. But the darkness still dwelt within her. An un-named darkness, even to her at times.

And so, here she was, in the darkened church, about to pierce the darkness with the dancing light of the candles. Suddenly, she sensed someone behind her. A man. A man she knew. He was angry. She should not have been there.

“I’ve been given a key,” she said. “By the priest. To come and pray.”

The man stiffened. Only HE should have access to the church. His self importance brushed her body. She felt it go right into her. Just like before. When “the THING” happened. Her personal space had been invaded once again. Blind, and wheelchair bound, she felt wave after wave of nausea overcoming her. And then the inner shaking.

She was being accused. She was a criminal. An interloper. An infiltrator. She should NOT be here.

The next morning came. Kathy started tearing at her breasts. She HAD to get them off. But they wouldn’t come. She was stuck with them. Just like she was stuck with this darkness of being a woman.

Sent from my iPad


Yesterday I lost something very precious to me. Nay, in fact it was stolen. Yet the thief made us feel like the criminals. Isn’t it strange how people can creep up on you when you are blind and wheelchair bound, and purposely frighten you! I wonder what their problem is. But yes, I had something precious stolen, in the darkness, with holy lights glowing everywhere. Today I am in shock. Traumatised. Traumatised in the House of God. Truly, the darkness IS


Voice do you speak
In dulcid tones like dew
Sitting in the early morning
On leaves
Or do you speak in blaming tones
Telling me of my sin
How do I know
The truth

For long
Siren voices
Sang to me in sweetness
Telling me that they loved me true
Knives ready to stab my soft heart
But now I hear silent
Voices calling
In love

The dew
Is gentle now
Just like the inner voice
Telling me that all is well now
And ever shall be well for love
Shall rule
My heart
Not fear or blame but acceptance
Of all
I am
And now I rest caressed by dew
Refreshed made whole again
Speak, inner voice
The truth


What shall I do now this fine day has gone,
Has everything died that lived in its span?
Or do I carry within me its long
Hours that throbbed strongly with life and began
A story that only it could create?
Though a story that’s real, touching my heart,
How long now must I hold myself and wait,
To see its effect and what it might start?
Though it seems it has died I can’t forget
The song it has sung and the tears it’s cried,
It touched my soul and my soul dances yet,
With all that it held that I hold inside,
This day is eternal, there is no time,
Down the long years it forever will shine.