As a reasonably normal child — observably at least — I did all the things other children do: I climbed trees, gathered fallen branches for fires, made tiny fairy tepees out of twigs. I used to play at the base of an ancient, wise oak in the schoolyard with my best friend. I gathered fruit …
Category: Poetry
Blooming
My maternal grandmother – my Beloved Mama – passed away in May 2016. I wrote these words by her bedside, during her last few days. She was the eternal optimist, her joy and laughter were infectious (even when nobody knew what she was laughing at), and she epitomised unconditional love – endowing everyone around her …
