I wrote this little piece during the early days of the covid 19 lockdown however it is one that feels a little bit relevant again when I have a daughter struggling with school based anxiety and school non attendance. Sorry I have been so quiet lately… This place is hectic, Our house is far from… Continue reading Sorry I have been so quiet lately…
Category: My Writing
Home
She knows when he is nearby. She doesn’t have to hear him or see him. There is that fresh fragrance with a hint of deep, strong wooden undertones. It is crisp and clean. The smell of sweet pine on a Spring day. And underneath that reoccurring yet not permanent essence is another homely aroma. So… Continue reading Home
Day trip to the seaside
“You’re too young. You don't understand.” But Tara understood more than they did. She lived it, day in day out. She pulls the door closed. The heat in the car is smothering. Stifling her own thoughts. Her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. Hot. Suffocating. Screaming reverberates through the car. Her sister kicks out, helpless. Her… Continue reading Day trip to the seaside
Little Bird
Day 4 of the John Hewitt International Summer School finished. What an amazing, inspiring and creative week… thought I would put together a little story of my journey so far … Little Bird The slight lip of the sun peaked from just beyond the horizon. Pearls of dew glistening on top of tranquil green leaves.… Continue reading Little Bird
Homework
There are breadcrumbs scattered across the page. The faint marks from my childish error’s softly pressed away. The steam from the potatoes cooking behind me has left a hazy art piece against the cold window. I read somewhere once that “a grandfather is someone with silver in his hair and gold in his heart”. The… Continue reading Homework
Her lifeline
She knows when he is nearby. She doesn’t have to hear him or see him. There is that fresh fragrance with a hint of deep, strong wooden undertones. It is crisp and clean. The smell of sweet pine on a Spring day. And underneath that reoccurring yet not permanent essence is another homely aroma. So… Continue reading Her lifeline
It could be grief
“It could be grief” he said. “But without death?” she replied “And that’s ok” he said, “because grief is not just a friend of death” The curling of her lips drawing his hand closer to her chin, “but one that visits at different, sometimes unexpected, stages of our lives.” “It’s ok to cry,” his fingers… Continue reading It could be grief
Dear Little One
Dear Little One, I am sorry that we are failing you. Helplessly standing at the side-lines as your world tumbles in around you. Despite the shouting and protesting from those who can see what is happening, those who can make a difference remain silent, either adamant in their support or whispering their disdain with the… Continue reading Dear Little One
All good here
“All good here” comes my reply. My brain on auto-response carefully curating the short, simple reply. Just three little words. Three little words slotting into another layer of a regulated dam built to hold it all back. But that’s not what I really meant to type. What I really wanted to say is… I miss… Continue reading All good here
Take my hand
Take my hand, I will hold you tight. That mask you hold is deep and thick, hiding your true self from all who look. I see it getting heavier, weighing down on your innocent mind and little body. Those tiny fingers drumming, hands and feet rhythmically moving, discarding the lights, the voices, the noises that… Continue reading Take my hand
Wee Bubble of Books 