... was born in Hampton Wick, lived in London during her early years and moved to Harlow with her husband in 1969. She has always enjoyed writing poetry and prose , and once she retired from teaching she joined a local art group and, in 2012, the Harlow Writers Workshop. During the 1990s she wrote a novel entitiled The Terbury Trilogy, which she is in the process of completing.
My battalions gather
masked by twilight
between night and morn
on the southerly air
secretively staying low
riding the foaming horses
to envelope your shore and
numb your surprised flank.
We rise against sea-slicked cliffs
behind summit brows
till battle call sounds
engulf your peaks
roll down to obliterate light
sinuously surround trees
and with icy fingers
frost the ground.
breaks free from clouds
retaliates with burning heat
my soldiers forced to rise
evaporate with whispering sighs
thwarted I retreat to plan
my next assault.
Hole in the Rock
Bay of islands stretches before us, tree-clad, ribboned by sandy shores. Beyond, islets like necklace beads hanging in the oceans swell are washed by waves. Here dolphins, inquisitive companions to tourist boats, scull in our wake.
We ply our course to a fractured headland where a whitewashed lighthouse staunchly stands, against a summer sky. Below its eye broken stacks protect the land from battering waves. One arch remains under the echoing cliffs. There is a hole through which the waves rise and fall.
Each boat stands back from the towering rock awaiting calm waters. Then moment reached our craft rises to the challenge its engine driving us forward. Breath held we silently travel through to pop like a cork on the seaward side.
Voices released, our applause and cheers are whisked away on a quickening breeze.
Call of the Selkie
Nappy free no longer confined
we toddle towards the sea
our skin caressed by
lapping water’s flow
returning to life before birth
we stamp and jump
splashing the crystal drops
into warm summer air.
As teenagers we try it for a lark
agree to a dare, strip bare
and secretly plunge into a pool
giggling on hot summer nights
sharing the stars and the moment
Adulthood makes us shy
bodies bear the scars of motherhood
we cover with swimwear
that disguises our form while
watching youth parade without guile
in adornments that show glistening
bronzed bodies emerging from the waves.
Older now less concerned how others
perceive us we remember
the innocence childhood gave us
comfortable in wrinkled mantles.
The call of the waves takes us
to quiet shores with companions
we disrobe in solitude
stride to shore’s edge to wade out,
plunge, immersing tingling skin
in the silk-soft liquid of the waves
becoming the Selkie within us
revelling in the joy of re-found freedom.
HW site Feb 2018