Up in the Clouds





My boy has been up in the clouds today.  He’s gone off New York with his girlfriend and thankfully they have just landed.  I have tracked the plane over the Atlantic most of the day, I know I’m crazy but I’m a mum!  He might be twenty six but he’s not well travelled, he phoned me lost in Heathrow early this morning and now he has to navigate his way around New York!  That’s the thing with being a mum, it doesn’t let up, not that I want it to mind you.


Anyway I can breath easy and get back to the pain of my tooth abscess which is not being helped by the antibiotics and pain killers.   If only the sun would come out of the clouds here.

In response to the Daily Prompt – Clouds





Palpable tension here in the room

It will have to break and hopefully soon

The air thick with anger, you can hear a pin drop

It’s ugly and maddening, I do hope it stops.

I head for the door to get our of this place

One step at a time, they’re still talking race

The crowd is thickening, the mob is not right

I run from the room and into the night

I can’t stand this anger, all over the place

The yobs have come out and they’re a disgrace

Get off your high horses, get yourselves in control

The country needs peace, that’s not how to roll

There’s no room for racism, it’s ignorant see

Not in my name, it could never be me

We’re all human beings, under one sky

I despair at your hate, I have to ask why?

Do you feel your superior, is that the truth

Did your parents tell you, was it under your roof

Or was it from school, where true bullies grow

Beware what you put out, the things that you sow

My Boy



Being a mother is the best thing I’ve done,

I was put here on earth to be my boys mum.

It comes with such happiness, heartbreak and joy,

I am incredibly proud that he is my boy.

But then there’s the worries that come with the job.

From the moment of birth, a hotline to God.

To please keep him safe, let him be adored,

to experience love and never ignored

And that’s how it goes, being a mum.

One minute worry, the next lots of fun.

But I wouldn’t trade this job for my life,

for the love of my boy, I’ll deal with the strife.

Thinking of my son, who is actually twenty six and flying off to New York today with his girlfriend.  I want him to have the time of his life but I won’t rest until the plane touches down safely.  It’s all in the job you see!



Brighton Bandstand

Brighton is my spiritual home, I don’t think I could live anywhere else in the UK.  If I moved it would be south to the continent, Spain or France but for now and the last fifteen years Brighton has been my home.

Brighton is a seaside town and therefore full of tourists all year round.  Some call it London-by-Sea but having lived in London most of my adult life I can tell you it’s nothing like it.  Brighton is a force of it’s own, it does not mimic anywhere else, it is original, a trendsetting town.  Brighton is kind, it looks after its own and it welcomes the new, this town is very accepting.

I have days when I decide I’m taking time out and I’m going to be a tourist for the day, just for the hell of it.  I drift through the city streets, North Laines and South Lanes (yes, they are spelt differently) and become a tourist.  I stop and sit outside cafe’s and bars and watch the weird world of this town and its visitors go past.  I might stop of at any number of places for a lunchtime meditation or just head straight through town for the beach.

The energy of this town and its people are amazing and I have made some truly wonderful friends.  Weird, I’ll grant you but wonderful in that they are open, thoughtful and caring souls.  I think that’s what drew me here, its different and I’m a bit different too, I like to throw myself in the deep end.  I have conversations here, that would be seen as mad anywhere else, the flies on our walls could tell a tale or two for sure.

At the end of my tourist day I can usually be found on the beach looking out at the beautiful West Pier, this is one of my spacial places, where I draw my energy.

I believe that the saying ‘on the edge’ refers to the sea and those that are drawn to it, but that’s okay.

The West Pier, Brighton

Response to the Daily Prompt – Tourist


Message of the Flower

What does a flower tell me

As opens slowly, gently, finding itself

What does a flower tell me

As it stretches  up towards the sun

What does a flower tell me

As it gives color to life

What does a flower tell me 

As it reaches the climax of its bloom

What does a flower tell me

As it dances in the wind

What does a flower tell me

As the petals begin to drop

What does a flower tell me

As it gracefully bends in age

What does a flower tell me

As it feeds the earth in death

The Question



If love is the only answer

Why does everybody not just love

If love is the only answer

Why is there so much hurt in the world

If love is the only answer

Why do so many need healing from trauma and pain

If love is the only answer 

Why do we trade in currency and material objects

If love is the only answer

Why do so many not listen to each other, the universe

If love is the only answer

Why do we not see what is before us

If love is the only answer

Why is there loneliness when there are so many people

If love is the only answer

Why do I fret for my child’s future

I guess love is the only answer 




Sadness, it took you when you had more time ahead.

Coldness of your skin, as I tucked you in bed

Laughter we avoided as it might make you cough

Every moment painful, the same with my loss.

Raynaud’s phenomenon, that turned hands to stone

Oxygen cylinders all over all our homes

Drugs I can’t spell, piled up to swallow

Everything hard but you wouldn’t wallow 

Reminders of you are not all this disease

Magnificent moments, that put me at ease

Always my mum………


It’s world Scleroderma Day tomorrow, today would have been my mum’s birthday.




Water drops from my eye and blots at the ink

I stare through my tears and don’t overthink

It’s your day again, the day you were born

June twenty eighth and I can’t help but morn

I know that your near, I believe that always

It’s just harder for me, as it’s your special day

Happy Birthday mum, I really love you

I know you are dancing with legs you can use

The oxygen gone, no longer required

You can float through the air without being tired

The tears are of sadness because of your pain

But also of joy because we’ll meet again.


In response to The Daily Prompt – Water

Alzheimer’s – Deprived of Mind

She does not remember her children,
she has also forgotten her name.

Daily, her loved ones visit now,
though she’ll never be quite the same.

Questions stare out of her eyes,
that she can’t connect to her lips.

She can no longer style her own hair,
so it’s often held back with clips.

She screams when they wash her hair,
she cries for to leave it alone.

She would rather stay in her nightdress,
and just wants to be on her own.

Stains appear on her clothes,
that would never have been there before.

She’s forgotten she doesn’t eat meat,
cause the arguments out of the door.

She’s deprived of the mind she once had,
it’s all muddled and in tiny bits.

She’s forgotten what she was saying,
as soon as the words leave her lips.

So I bless I still have my mind and
I love her as much as I can.

I can’t talk about deprivation,
while I still visit Aunty Anne

In response to the Daily Prompt – Deprive