Days of Sadness


When Sandy died
I felt so down,
my soul had been ripped
from out of my body.

Why did she die
doctors say she collapsed,
her body burned out
we would never talk again.

Clothes in her wardrobe
clothes in her cabinet,
hair brush and perfume
all neatly lined up.

I get up each day
waiting for life’s end,
knowing she is waiting
to be together, once again.



Left without trace…


I remember your blonde hair
tied back with coloured beads,
when you walked out on me
that hot summer’s day.

I always expected
you would return,
for I was waiting
with arms open wide.

I searched for you
high and low,
you just vanished
leaving no trace.

As the years passed by
and you did not return,
I knew in my heart
I would live alone.

My focus in life
had all but gone,
the day you walked out
without saying good-bye.

Quiet Times…

St.Mary the Virgin Church - Rye - Sussex

I walked the path
other’s trod before me,
crossing the threshold
into peace and traquility.

Daylight broke through
small patterned windows,
depictiong forgotten history
of this wonderful building.

Monuments and tablets
adorn these walls,
those to be remembered
not forgotten by time.

Old Age…


Welcome to that time
when our bodies crack up,
we have lost our mobility
and taken to a frame.

Eyesight becomes blurred
hearing… what hearing,
our hearts slow down
and medication goes up.

One becomes envious
of those jogging around,
reminding you of past times
when you, were that young.

Sea Memories

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The land between
the sea and the village,
filled with emerald grasses
and blazing wild flowers.

For her the sea was sacred
a place of peace and life,
home of her sea god
home of mother nature.

Time had passed her by
the sun was going down,
hardly a ripple of the waves
the tide was going out.

Vidian Art Image

Forgotten People


The lonely old men
sit in the old cafe,
drinking tea and coffee
from small plastic cups.

They have their memories
telling of their lives,
who would be interested
who would listen.

Their daily lives are spent
watching the world,
pass them by, through
old cafe windows.

Past Memories


From day to day we never know
what the tide may bring in,
a reminder of a past life
hidden by the oceans of time.

A rotting piece of driftwood
a reminder from a battle afar,
bobbing up and down in the surf
shining from afar.

Wreckage of history, love and war
pieces of stone and shell,
echoes of words worn away
some silenced long ago.

We wonder what life holds in store
so come with me, and let us search
for history upon the shore
lest, we forget our past.