reap, sow and plough

I am me, you are you, they are them over there

Observe those who don’t know; the ones that just stare

Keep an eye out for opinions, they fly dangerously low

Always move forward and don’t act like a schmo


Embrace all the madness and lengthen your stride

You know what you know and there’s nothing to hide

Ignore what your head says, just listen to your heart

Life is to live, it’s not something to chart


Don’t ever let anyone put you in a box

It’s no way to live and creates a paradox

Have a skip in your step and a wiggle in your tail

I can’t guarantee it, but I suspect you won’t fail


Dance with abandon, dance a jitterbug or two

Be all you can be, it doesn’t matter what you do

Smile at your reflection, give yourself a big wink

Don’t think too many thoughts, in fact try not to think…


Let go of your ego, pack its bag, bid farewell

It’s rarely any help and can make you unwell

Be grounded and present, live life in the now

Nurture yourself as you reap, sow and plough


a cruel joke…

I still cry blood

from the catacomb;

the grave of my womb.

The infertile

branches of life gnarled.

A cruel joke;

the most potent poke

not enough to stir

the cries and laughter of my DNA.


The hormones screaming

from the continual

twisting of the knife,

lest I forget choices made

the huge price paid

at too young an age.

Still invisible.


the vast, unseen future

in which I now stand,

the unstoppable band

that keeps marching forward.

Streets lined with well wishers

who will never look me in the eye

scared to occupy

an orgasm that lacks promise.

The reality of hit-and-miss.

Turned away at the door

by a pregnant pause.

Unable to stomach

the pride,

the applause

of a Mother-to-be’s belt.

Not available in my size,

the un-won prize

of wearing my own shape.

Moulded and adjusted

over the years,

to stem the tears

of what is… what is?

Yet the river still flows

unabated by biology

a student of embryology

unaware that it is



than a cruel joke…


No more the woman

She doesn’t live here.

No more the woman

bent over backwards,

accommodating the unaccountable

supporting the spineless,

enhancing the unchangeable

world of another.

Her bags filled

with the compromises

and injustice of the unworthy.

She leaves,

bidding farewell

to unreconciled promises

written by the illiterate.


Fairy Tales


My youthful mind, it did adore

the fairy tales of old.

I believed in all the fables

of the stories being told.


A Princess woken by a kiss

after many years a slumber.

By a young Knight, on his stead

whose enemies did outnumber.


In disguise, a big bad wolf

who entrapped and spread deceit.

The truth would out and he’d be slain

killed by his own conceit.


Horse drawn carriages made of gold

transported me in dreams.

Carried me off to far away lands

beyond nightmarish screams.


Children caught by a wicked witch

A cat who walked in boots.

A singing apple, a speaking bird

Step sisters in cahoots.


Love and truth would conquer all

be the savour of mankind.

Such were the romantic inklings

Of a naive, innocent mind.

My First Date…

The words fell from his mouth, in an audible traction

The large gaps in intent, an unfortunate distraction

Opinions heavy with prose, exposed a man of inaction

Nudging forward an opinion, I looked for bantered interaction

His profile was witty, of his age… a liberal subtraction

He had an air of importance and an arrogant satisfaction

No generosity on his part; a clear monetary protraction

I nodded and smiled, whilst scoping exits for my extraction

His intent, it appeared, was for a physical exaction

‘It’s all about me!’, explained his social contraction

So I bid him farewell and his crass benefaction

Knowing I’d never again repeat, this dating transaction