Becoming immobile

A heart rending poem written by my daughter, Nicola, after being diagnosed with CMT

Doing time for no known crime
Has been difficult for me
It's hard to live with chronic pain
That others cannot see

The thief that robbed my body
Stole my strength and left me pain
I do my very best to cope
I struggle to stay sane

I miss our get-togethers
I miss shopping at the mall
It hurts me to be left behind
It's not my choice at all

I long for how it used to be
When I could join right in
To do the fun and simple things
With family and friends 

You seldom call or visit
You're tired of it, I guess
Of always asking, "Come along"
And never hearing, "Yes"

I ache to be with all of you
I wish I could explain
How doing 'normal' things in life
Can cause me so much pain

I'm trapped inside this body
With pain that has no end
I grieve for all the things I've lost
I'd like them back again

When I decline to join you
Please try to understand
It's not that I don't want to
It's just the way I am

Love Street

A poem for all those who are looking for love. My tip - stop looking......

Love Street


There is a place that everyone
Tries so hard to find
A place so precious
That once found it is forever in mind

No map can get you here
The sat nav will not assist
And the harder you look
The more you are shrouded in mist

Eyes are not what you need
To find this avenue
Amongst all the people in the world
Love Street will find you

There is no paving
No end and no start
Love Street will find you
When you open your heart

Tear down those barricades
Remove those walls
Let the real you emerge
Into these sacred halls

What a joy awaits
Happiness beyond your ken
And all you have to do
Is let it in

Love Street, what a place
Everyone, a smile on their face
All the human race
With their presence would it grace

Live life, love life
Spend it on Love Street
Give yourself the chance
And your life’s love you will meet

Window on The Soul

Somebody once asked me to help them with their self confidence - but what exactly is that? Where does it come from? And how do you get some?

Window on The Soul


Invisible, intangible and so fragile
Yet it has unlimited power
It can change the world
But its absence can make you cower

Where does it come from
This powerful thing?
How can it flood your veins
And then leave after a visit so fleeting?

Now here’s a contrary thought
Perhaps it does not exist
And the attempts to build it
Are just like knitting mist

Maybe its just another window on your soul
Another view of your human frailty
This handy label called confidence
Is a reminder that you not yet free

Not yet free from the need to fix your world
Not yet free from the way things should be
So invest in your freedom from yourself
And you will find the confidence key

The Fortress of Vulnerability

A poem for those of us who feel we have to put on some sort of external image so others see us as "strong" all the time.

The Fortress of Vulnerability


In weakness there is strength
And the vulnerability we all hide
Can be our greatest asset
But first you have to let people inside

Inside the fortress you know you have
Into the place where only a select few
Are ever granted admittance
For fear of what they might do

All of your vulnerability
And all that you make it mean
Can make the difference
Between living or not your dream

The terrible things that you dread
From sharing who you are
Will not happen because you give them a voice
And on your journey you will have travelled far

Give it a try
Take a risk
Hold nothing back
And once you start do not desist

Feel the lightness of being
From complete transparency
And notice that nothing happened
When you revealed the “real me”

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

How true - from Coach Carter. If you have not seen the film, watch it.

What the Woman Doesn't See

A poem for those women who do not realise how great they can be and already are.

What the Woman doesn’t see


The reflection in the mirror
Is a beauty to behold
A radiant image
So striking, so bold
But the woman doesn’t see

Desiring at the same time
To be admired and yet not seen
She fusses over how she looks
And leaves as a beauty queen
But the woman doesn’t see

She doesn’t see her whole self
Only every imperfection
And when it comes to compliments
She is a master of deflection
Oh! What the woman doesn’t see

That she is a beauty
Is clear by every object measure
But being told that
Does not bring her any pleasure
What the woman doesn’t see

The power that she has
To dominate a room
Simply by her presence
She can lift the gloom
But the woman doesn’t see

Instead she stays so small
So quiet, so mild and meek
The star spotlight
She will never seek
Oh what the woman doesn’t see

Rejoice in your image
Treat it as a gift
For you to bestow upon the world
However you see fit
And then perhaps you’ll see
What a woman you can be

Starting Out

A poem I wrote for my Mom - made her cry, which was not quite what I intended.

Starting Out


As an unborn child
You do not have a say
The cards you are dealt
Are just what come your way

And so as life begins
Am I born unto a king
Is this a silver spoon I’ve found
Or does my life start from stony ground

But what makes the difference
To the life you start
Is nothing so material
It is about the heart

It is not what you are given
It is who you have
Guiding you through early life
Like your very own sat nav

In this I have been lucky
And luck it surely is
To find myself with a mother
With such specialties

A mother who has been there
All throughout my life
Enjoying my happy times
And helping me in times of strife

A mother who knows
The greatest gift of all
Is to help her children grow
And then catch them if they fall

And so after all these years
I now make the time to say
How I really do thank you
For all you did for me each day

And now I’ve made the time
To say how special you are to me
And how when I was born
I’d already won life’s lottery