I cannot remember a time when  I did not write poetry. I can remember finding this in my daughter's book when she was  7:-

       'It is snowing, it is glistening,

        It is time for Jesus' christening'

and thinking 'chip off the old block!'.

There will be poems from other sources too,all acknowledged.

Six Years On: Visiting the Grave

On Visiting His Grave: 1996,summer:Six Years On

I do not come to meet you:

Ah,my dear,

I know you are not here:

Nor do I come to tell you how things go,


Somehow, I hope you know.

I tend this space because my aching heart

Still seeks to play some part:

The faithful wife

In death, as once in life:

Fussing with flowers before I go my way

Just as,

When we were oh, so young and gay,

I'd brush your shoulders and adjust your tie,

Setting you straight before we kissed goodbye.