Give me your hand

A mood of stillness like a nesting dove
A lack of wind, vast silence gives repose
Symbolises blessings from above.

My trees mature now form a holy grove
The sorrow ruling me has been deposed
To give me stillness with the nesting dove

In such moods, there’s space to think, compose.
To learn the ways of energy and love
Symbolised by blessings from above.

In the crowded Mall, the shoppers shove
The special mood of peace  I fear eludes
We lose the sense of silence and the dove

In public life, we quarrel and oppose
We lose the way to  our loved treasure trove
We lose the symbols and the deep repose.

Give me your hand without its heavy glove
As we caress,   we  value human love.
A mood so stilled, oh, fluttering of the dove
No wind to destroy peace nor rain to flood


The universe is volatile ,are we?

The universe is volatile and free
Nature was not made for humankind
As wild as eagles, stripe backed buzzing bee

See the storm demolish favoured trees
See the wrecks and breakage left behind
The universe is volatile ,are we?

We hear ourselves compose our  misery
The sun  is shrouded,rain darts through the wind
The eagles strong  hide in the mountain’s lea.

The particles of life ride on in glee
Regardless of our wishes or our minds
The universe is volatile and free

When we look out,our wish is what we see
But we are minute specks which  much may learn.
From eagles, cats and striped soft buzzing bees

With shutters on the  eye , we’re sad and blind
And knocked by savage grief , undignified
The universe is  merry,cruel and free
As wild as rage,  as kind as a calm sea.

Love affair between poetry and psychology?

Forth Hall October 17 2013 005  2


Romanyshyn references the psychologist/researcher frequently in his book, The Wounded Researcher (link is external)as being “the failed poet” suggesting he or she stands at the gap between the conscious and unconscious, and bears the tension between knowing and not knowing. Romanyshyn also admits that the psychologist who keeps the soul in mind is closer in sensibility to the poet, even if he or she is not a poet. Essentially, he’s acknowledging that poetry is an art of the soul, something which has been tangentially addressed over the years. Interestingly, he also references a number of poets in his book, such as Homer, Keats, and Rilke, while identifying some of the common threads between psychologists and poets, the important one being that they tend to be individuals who are able to identify the truths of any given moment. Needless to say, they both play an invaluable societal role and without tooting my own horn, if both exist in one person, well, that’s even better.

As a transpersonal psychologist and poet, each day I see more clearly the power and influence these two professionals have on one another. Every morning I read poetry, oscillating between Rumi and more contemporary poets like Pablo Neruda, Mary Oliver, Sharon Olds,



Romanyshyn, Robert. (2007). The wounded researcher. New Orleans, LA: Spring Journal Books.

The nuclear elegy

The weather’s gone bipolar, so have we
Uncertainty has made us  feel  enraged
We thought we  could hand Europe back its key

Long negotiations mixed  up  do not free
We want the process finished,disengaged
The weather’s gone bipolar, so have we

No-one in the Government agrees
Old allies now start on a rampage
We thought we  could hand Europe back its key

Narcissistic, we think me,me ,me
Where have gone the wise ones and the sage?
The weather’s gone bipolar, so have we


See Al Jazeera and the BBC
Arms are being sold to  all who pay
We thought we  could hand Europe back its key


Watch the nations as their weapons  lie
Save the world for peace and bang,goodbye
The weather’s gone bipolar, so have we
We think we  hear the nuclear elegy

The way they speak to you

smile2.jpgAfter my husband died I knew I would be paying less Council Tax.When the bank statement came I saw  it was the same as before.When I phoned the Council about a month after my husband had died, the man said,For all we know you have got another man now.I wonder  that they  could speak to me like that.
E-on want to read my metre so I sent them a note did they mean meter.No reply
I am reading the 6 Lives of Henry the Eighth.So far  there’s only been one.Will he rise fron the dead and stop Brexit? That would be fun
I can’t understand a war about roses.I thought gardening was good for us,Will we have a war of the tomatoes?
Richard 3rd is still famous  long after he died.What do I have to do?
I see we accepted the Normans because they were fierce conquerers. So should refugees start a war?
The war against benefits  has been going on and on.Why don’t they just shoot  us all?
It’s too late for breakfast and too late for lunch.I’ll go back to bed and try again tomorrow.If you start on the wrong foot it’s difficult to get it right,or  left