We are travelling towards the border
to a place of no returning
and the Green Man, with his walkers,
stands waiting on the frontier
dead and reborn
wild and wistful
with a welcome in his eyes
and the memory of Easter in his
etched with nails
and our dragging feet, in spellbound shoes,
inexorably draw us.
There is death and birth.
The world shall change.
The Green Man, with his walkers,
stands waiting on the frontier.
These poems are the fruit of almost 30 years of occasional writing. They were written as private reflections, or for friends and family. I hadn't intended them for public consumption, but people have told me now and then that they thought I should share them, so I have. I shall add new poems if and when I write them, though a lot of my words tend to go into sermons these days!
If you find something you like and find helpful, you are welcome to use it and share it, but please make sure my name stays attached to it.
The poems are posted in no particular order, but the labels - click on links below - should help you find poems on various themes.
There are also separate pages on this blog containing links to music composed by my husband, Philip, and to Christmas stories which I have told here at Seal in place of sermons on Christmas Day.