I freely admit and hereby disclaim
when writ 'twas a pitiful rhyme
and all those moments
will be lost in time
like tears in rain
in Spain
they stay
mainly in the plain
or so they say
and yet are washed away
down the drain
never to be shed
or seen again
He washed his hands.
Of her and us.
And we were sluiced into the Irish Sea.
On a rough tide.
Whilst the gentleness of the Yorkshire Dales embraced him.
Again.
Clinging to each other and the flotsam of the incoming tide we were swept back to shore, blistered, weathered, but together.
A successful navigation to land, prevailing with fortune and fortitude.
Onshore our journeys continued but in differing directions, scarred by the experience, new land to explore.
New lives.
Ever changed we reunite to recount, reminisce, a newness added on each telling.
The scarring still exists the flesh tears, the salt burns, but every now and then the flag is hauled,
the sail thrown open to the wind and we sail, the waters stiller, navigable.
Harbours now, each open to protect from choppy oceans.
A safe mooring.
natural beauty
swept downriver with currents
natures life cycle
What big smile you have Grandmother.
The better to fool you with my dear.
Big smiles, big hair, breasts and heels
All designed to suck you in.
Hook us good then reel us in
For their Catch of the Day
Served up fresh battered and fried with chips.
And still the distant voices echo,
“Kill ugly radio”, “Kill your television”
To the plugged-in masses
Sharing their memes,
Endlessly scrolling their lives away.
What big teeth you have Grandmother.
Yes, but don’t you worry my child,
They only look so big
Because you are so close.
(3/8/26)
First made perfect
Now in my sight
More acceptably turned out.
Whiter than white.
Sinner, Satan
Condemns; not I.
Unbelief's foul self contempt
But left stained by.
Times have changed
My eyes have seen much
Life’s been rearranged
The past, I sometimes clutch
But time is still consuming
Much of where I’ve been
My heart and soul are still blooming
Though I know not where to begin
Times have changed
But I’m surely not the same
A woman with a purpose, estranged
From the sin that brought me shame
Written on my soul
Is the hope of something more
He said He’ll make me whole
And, He is the One I will always adore
WASHED AWAY BY THE TIDE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I see the vestiges of yesterday,
echoes of mistakes,
like footprints in the sand,
that the time of time washed away.
Every mistake,
is like a grain of sand on the beach,
a sandcastle of errors,
mistakes that the tide of time washes away.
the wind of self-forgiveness
pulls me up, propelling me
beyond the limits
of mistakes I made yesterday.
I hear the wind, realizing…
the sky does not stop the dawn
for the clouds that came in.
nor does the river mourn
the stones that once obstructed its flow.
the beautiful truth—
*There is so much more to me
than my faults.
I am the promise
of who I am yet to be.
*Note:“You’re so much more than your mistakes.” quoted from Dr. Wayne Dyer
The old pictures,
borders coiled like dried autumn blades,
give only glances.
A youthful laugh, unheard now,
a sun long set on that certain day.
I try to piece it together,
the scent of the salt air then,
the weight of a hand in mine.
But the details drop,
like sand through open fingers.
There are times, sharp and sudden,
a song on the radio, a particular shade of blue,
that spark a phantom voice.
But the full narrative,
it recedes.
It's as if a mild current
is often pulling,
repulsing the fine lines,
blending the vibrant colors
into something softer, less defined.
"Memories buried in the wavering wash of time,"
they are there, I know,
just down below, harder to touch.
Like old tokens at the bottom
of a changing, sunlit stream.
And perhaps that's the blessing,
the tender fading,
leaving only the essence,
the warm hum of what once was,
not the sharp pain of what's gone.
I die over and over—
between pages—a ghost
in a world more real than my
own—drowning in ink—
willingly washed ashore—
swelling, bloating breath.
Against my nature of concealment,
I cough out the ink—everywhere—
chaos, carnality, collapse!
onto a canvas I cannot
cower from.
Who else perceives meaning there?
Who else feels the frenzy like fire?
acid washed blue jeans
hang on the rusty clothesline
in the morning sun
Went down to the river
each time I sang
and washed presumptively
the flesh of kin
down, down, down
with knees bent
unfolded and rent
circled the floors
each time I sang
and raised the roof
and arms in praise
‘tis not enough to say
‘tis a start not lame
to accept His holy name
into your heart
down, down, down
in the burial tub
not shamed nor shoved
but proofed
Went down to the river
he did…he did
and brought his kids
each time I sang
and didn’t know
the refrain
my brain is too small
too weak, not all
that good a matchup
for the King
for the smiles He brings
when the robes are light
and they bring up all
onto the wall
certificates
down, down, down
to the store
not three but four
digging up the old old song
for just a while
my child in a frame
the whole world gained
NO…that is not it
it is for such a time as this
a family close knit
one returned to church
God gives back
threefold
folding my knees
holding my heart
down in the river
remember who parted the sea
remember who walked on the sea
kin came up from the water, free
If only I could wash my brain
My mind would be so clean
Then certainly I would be so sane
And no way to be mean
I’d scrub away all the pain I had
Scrub away all the bad hair days
I'd scrub away, scrub away, scrub away
All the awful news that’s bad and sad
With soap-on-a-rope I-be-no-dope
With bubbles bobbling from my pot
With suds I’d be your bud
I’d change the world with a single thot
Never again would my head get hot
And everyone would think like me . . . NOT!
Yet everyone everywhere started to just have fun
No more head games, no more games that are lame
Just play, dance, and sing has a good ring to live by
Grow Money Trees where money were leaves
And everything purchased was for free
My head’s full of cotton candy rainbow dreams
I wish for the impossible possible plea
“Wake Up!” is what I’d scream
From this dream within a dream
"Let’s all wash our brains from the same river stream. "
Scrubbed rubbed the wrong way
And left hung up to dry
Blown away in the wind
Treated like a leper
I wasn't perfect but I tried
Treated like a sinner
Condemned sentenced
Feeling small
with no judge or jury
When I hadn't sinned at all.
mother mouse had her hands and tubs full on wash day
her children were jumping and diving and playing every which way
Pinning on the line took even more effort, but worth the trouble.
Interlopers kept coming back for more; she thought she was seeing double.
Save my soul, I'm washed out to sea
I need the lights of a harbour to beckon me
Gasping for breath, in a bedraggled state
As the wild wind decides my ultimate fate
Swallowed up by the dark but emerge by the shore
A stranger to land and with sea-legs no more
Conflicted and confused by my second chance
Do I pray, do I sing, do I walk, do I dance?
I had thought that the sea would carry me home
Yet I stand with new landscape; fresh pastures to roam
The life I could live now plainly in view
New path lined with hope for my heart to pursue
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