A dilemma

I really need to ask Martin to leave. He lies to me. Why do men tell lies? What is so weak about them that the truth is not good enough?

I am still so frail after my chest infections. I cannot get my strength back as I decline each day. I rest and sleep. Sleep is all I want.



This morning I woke and could not tell whether I felt better. Then I realized I felt the same as yesterday.

This made me nervous. I did not want to start a fourth course of antibiotics. Then I used my home nebulizer. I felt so much better. What a difference.

Now I feel much better and at present don’t feel there is a chest infection. I am so relieved.

It takes injections into my left arm to enable me to use the home nebulizer. How complicated my health is. It has taken a year to get here.

I have taken SWAST to the Ombudsman. And my local hospital. Next will be my doctors practice.

I was grateful for the sunshine today. It made everything better. And Ireland thrashed Scotland at the Six Nations, winning the Triple Crown.


Feeling a little better…

This afternoon I had a long sleep and feel somewhat better. I took the last antibiotic of this third course this morning. I really don’t want another course.

I think I might have had Covid19. How I got it I have no idea. My nose has run a little which hasn’t happened in years. This gives me hope that I have no more infection, but simply need to rest and drink plenty of fluids.

I have not been out today. The need to rest was compelling. The sunshine yesterday, and the having my hair trimmed did me so much good.

My garden is full of spring. But the daffodils are not out yet. The wild strawberries have flowers, the periwinkle, the scyllia, another cosmos, it is all out of kilter due to climate catastrophe.

I am positive. Spring weather is coming. I will be warm again.


Still unwell…

I am still unwell, but now know how to use the home nebuliser. My surgery actually sent an advance care nurse to see me yesterday. I could not believe it.

I went to have my hair trimmed this morning. Jo is such a fabulous hairdresser and gave me advice, as my hair is changed due to all my medications. I’ve known this for a while but no one has ever explained and advised so caringly.

It is sunny and after yesterday’s rain, the sun feels like spring. My garden is doing well with new primroses open. There is a cosmos open just as the other one finished. Such synchronicity!

I will go get donuts in a short while.

Martin is doing well. He’s gone through an untidy phase but it’s over. I’m grateful for that.

I feel joy in my garden. My plants and flowers.


Another chest infection…

I get tired of adulting

I have another chest infection. This is my third course of antibiotics. I am burning up with fever and cannot talk for croaking. My lungs are heavy.

I have fever. I am worried.


For David Rathband

A poem

Can’t stop thinking about your twin
He wept on national radio this morning
And the officer assigned to get you back to work
Yeah, she cried too

Oh, so briefly a hero, what did you do?
Your children are missing you
What a big hole you left there
Oh, so briefly a hero, what did you do?

I don’t live the life I was given either
But I chose to accept life on life’s terms
Which can be the hardest one has to do
My Dad cried too

But I’m no hero, no, not like you
I haven’t raised national awareness
I haven’t looked a killer in the eye
But I have kept plodding on, plodding
To make a home for my child and I

And seen sickness in the third world
No hero, even briefly, not I
No one can judge you that for sure
I’d rather have my own path than yours, I know

So, briefly, a hero, what did you do?

Published in The Lark


Bells For Ukraine

Europe rang church bells for Ukraine
choirs sang their anthem outside embassies
of Russia.

Bells don’t defeat aggressors, nor songs
flying Ukraine’s flag won’t help
win this war

We forget Myanmar after a year
so many deaths and a genocide
UN is toothless

Yemen goes on being bombed
Syria weeps still with tyranny
No resolve

Ring the bells for Ukraine out loud
sing their anthem at Russian embassies
after all war is done

Published in The Lark



Let’s go back to Allihies
Where the trees do not grow
No more than bent over shrubs
the harsh winter winds

Where the sheep outnumber folk
And the grass is lushest green
Flowers bloom by the wayside
And lambs walk the road

A scattering of farmyards
Along narrow twisting lanes
Two pubs, a church and village store
One gas pump serves all the needs

The sea rolls in crashes on the sand
Air is fresh, kissed by the toss of a wave

Mornings are soaked with dew
Evaporated by sun, day-long and sunset

The sun disappears over the Atlantic
Slow in its descent, colors gather
Then merge with no seam, filling skies
Huge the orb as it glitters the sea

Take me back to Allihies
Let’s be hungry from fresh air
See those stump trees, stand in the sea
Count the sheep till we deeply sleep


Walking My Dog

When I’m walking with my dog
I need to get in his groove

The 40 yards where I use the lead
I just get pulled and pulled

When he reaches a certain spot
I find I’m yanked to a stop
Cos that’s where he’s got do
What a dog’s got to do

Lead’s off so should he run on the beach
Or run to the launching trailer
To do what he does
Seconds of indecision and then
He does both

As he gallops on ahead i hope
There will be no shopping bags
For him to stick his nose in or worse

If they’re beside a bench
He’ll do what he does

Now I see him again and he’s nose down
In the tufts of plants sniffing his newspaper
Which takes him quite away along
until the open green grass

And he’s off with joy bounding
Then stops to look back
OK, I am right there
Then it’s along the sea wall

Maybe jump down on the sea side
Oops maybe not let’s leave it for now
He spies a puppy good for a chase
And get chased back what a game

When we reach the slipway he watches
Does he want to windsurf does he wish
For a boat I know I do
Then the football pitch

In for a dribble makes the kids laugh
Yes i got to get in his groove
Makes it such fun

Unless he finds something that’s dead

But even when he stinks
He makes me laugh

Oh how he made me laugh

Published in The Lark


Hot Day

The air is fresh now, and clean,
gone is 
the sultry, moody sky
that carried a veil of humidity

Stroking our skin with wetness,
leaving a languid erotic sense
aware of our bodies, but lazy

Touch was work, the air heavy
love was easier to speak than do
but now we make love easily

Languid, we lay on our bed, sweat
glossing our skin
, tracing salt on tongue
but after the rain, love is energized

Published in The Lark