Oh heart of mine

I feel a naked hand upon my heart

Cold as winter in its icy parts

The cold hand seems to grip or even squeeze.

Seeks to kill my heart and not to please

I wonder if intrusion can be blocked

Psychic armour, ways the evil’s stopped

Fishing

Poachers caught the geese from off the Lea

They roasted them for Xmas so we hear

If I asked they might get one for me

Not what we desire for Xmas tea

The same is true for Kentish wine and beer

Unless we all get drunk beneath the tree

We could go fishing in the river Lea

If we had a boat then I could steer

The strange river

Photo by Katherine

The water ripples in the early sun

The full dark river hurries to the sea

As secretive as an en-cloistered nun

As powerful as s tiger on the run

As poisonous as a snake out having fun

As other as a stranger is to me

As heavy as a heart when love won’t come

My cat died

Feeling the sadness in my heart
and in my arms a tender feeling
as if the flesh is calling out;


My breath’s coming in gasps and
my throat makes a murmur
as if trying to speak.

Sensitive skin on my inner arms yelps
and my heart aches like
I’ve run too many miles .
My legs feel strong
My mouth is dry and my back
needs an arm around it
for protection.
My eyes are wet with the moisture
that might have made saliva.

My cat died
Then you died.
Whatever.

Ashamed of child murder at home

Who can murder children with such ease

Reading makes my hot blood turn to freeze

Lack of helpers, children left to lose

Social Workers miss the crucial cues

How many other toddlers are abused

If they are not killed, they miss the News

Think on that before you go to bed

Children give off clues which are not read

It is our business, we cànnot ignore

The paucity of help,the closed front door.

The promised land

Joy sings now in golden light,

Then after day comes deep,black night

.New moon is rising by grey trees,

The earth is where I want to be.


I want the day,I want the night.
I want the dark.I want the light.
I want to see and to be seen,~
And not to lose my precious  dreams

The sun has set, grey clouds turn black,

The day just gone  will not come back.

I’ll rest in quiet reverie

Until the reaper’s scythe takes me.


And then I drop and mix with dust,
Till worms and beetles sate their lust.
And fall into ten thousand motes,
And dance, in sunlight,  music’s notes.

No more striving ,no more ambition

No more fighting,no competition

Every particle’s the sameWithout even  a unique name.

Without even  a unique name.


And, side by side, we all are one,
The lusts of life have been and gone.
We dwell with dirt and grain and sand
At last we’ve reached the Promised Land

The smile

There is a 95 year old lady here.Every evening she comes round and says Good night and God bless Which I repeat to her

Last night I was feeling happy so when she came in I gave her a big smile She did not speak but walked nearer and nearer to me staring at my face.Then she said, good night.

My self

If we practise a religion it needs to make us less self centered

The emphasis on sin can lead to scruples where we are over aware of ourselves

Of course we do need to know how we are treating others on and

perhaps notice our thoughtlessness or cruelty.

Words are very potent.

By Katherine

Love in a mist

Dreaming of blood

Clouds peppered with blood

Shot silk party clothes

Vulnerable people tip toe though snow

Ghislaine laughing, noone can protect these girls

Destroying others is self destructive too,in the end

Looking for a thrill?

Buy a Balloon

He returns

don’t like your literary fiction

i i don’t like your poetry that much

I don’t like your clinging like a lichen

I don’t like you flaunting your old crutches

I don’t like your jeans and yellow top

I didn’t like your colours nor your touch

i don’t like you looking very hot

When my legs give way

Katherine's avatarHow my heart speaks

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It’s already going darker and your dinner’s in the pot
Where are you now, my sweetheart? I remember,I forget
I know you liked those kippers smoked in Whitby in a shed
Your breath was something else again, when we went to bed

Then there was the big pie shop, above the mile of beach
We have no pork butcher but we can still buy meat
Men like a steamed pudding hot with home made jam
They like custard, gravy, HP Sauce and ham

We walked out on the causeway and the wind was very wild
We saw the fleet of fishing boats. tossing on the tide
You were so romantic, you went out overnight
But you got sea sickness and your merry face was white

We went up to the Abbey and we saw the cliffs so high
Nature is so…

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The  steepness,wildness ,blackness darkly sing

Katherine's avatarHow my heart speaks

Like the water  in a mountain stream
In flood it drowns  the weak and  very young
In drought we can explore its bed  and dream

The limestone around Alston’s very clean
And in the little river stones are flung
It’s  water  in a new born mountain stream

Dry  river beds in Teesdale are  pristine
The dark hills threaten  as they overhang
In drought, we can explore, find stones  and dream

But much of  Pennine land remains unseen
The  steepness,wildness ,blackness darkly sing
Like the  currents  in a flung down stream

In rare heat, bare feet are river clean
The hot stones make a flat seat on the bank
In drought, we can explore or  view the scene

In  love the mind will savour and then thank
The world of nature into which it sank
Unlike the water  in a mountain stream
If our mind runs slower  it better dreams

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The river in flood

Cold from storming rain and full of mud

The river Lea in winter turns to flood

Across the Abbey Meadows rings the bell

Brings back the ghosts, bring back the holy spell

King Harald lost his crown and all his land

The Norman Vikings, men with bloody hands

To me three Angels did appear

it is one of the first poems I wrote.I considered myself an agnostic at the time.
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Pexels.com

A sharp pain woke me from my sleep.
Inside my soul I felt the knife
I tried to make the pain abate
Without a change of life

But still the ache persisted;
I tried hard to forget;
Till I sat down in my garden chair,
And stayed with my upset.

The sun may shine,
the birds may sing
But that to me
no pleasure brings
Because of my regret.

As I sat still upon my chair
To me three Angels did appear,
And they are with me yet.

They took my  soul into their care,
With golden threads they’re sewing there,
Until the work’s complete.

My task is just to sit quite still.
And let God’s angels do His Will,
As I sit here at His Feet.

Thoughts

Express your feelings in the sonnet form

Especially when you’re sad and feel forlorn

No-one is an island none should be alone

For in our minds we’re one with all that’s born

Know thyself what does it mean

That we who see the worst are now redeemed?

And.tend the sacred cattle of the sun

Until we finish what we have begun

And leave this world much loved to others care

For we must do all that we dare

Then choose our inner eye for vision new

So our wisdom can itself renew.

As in the end we turn to ash or dust

Quiet and silent, dead, we make no fuss