A Winter Solstice Psalm

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest…

– Isaiah 9:2-3 (NIV)

Bare birches stand out like
Anorexic zebras on a savannah
Just outside Sunningdale…
And I am thinking of you again.
The year is nearly ended;
The darkness has reached a zenith;
The world still reeling at such pain…
But I have started to sing again.
I hear soft playing in the evening
Like prayers coming out through a piano.
Our treasure we hide in our junk rooms…
And I have started to dream again.
People in this city can be terrible
Delaying confirmation for a better invitation
When you reach out to make connections…
Yet I have started to hope again.
‘As long as there are people…’
People kind like you,
I’ll believe in hope and fight for love:
For what I trust is true.

“As long as there are people, Christ will walk the earth as your neighbour, as the one through whom God calls you, speaks to you, makes demands on you. That is the great seriousness and great blessedness of the Advent message. Christ is standing at the door; he lives in the form of a human being among us.”
– Dietrich Bonhoeffer, ‘God is in the Manger’


The Tortoise and the Porcupine

You burst out
And I retract
Sometimes you are too harsh for me
Your wits too spiky
Your words they stab me
Though you are just stretching
Scattering random blows for fun
Nothing really aimed at me
But it makes me fear what you say
When I am not there.
I’m a tortoise and you’re a porcupine;
we are strange friends perhaps.
My shell seems stone-like
But I’m so soft beneath
That self-defence is a necessity
All I can do sometimes
Is put distance between me and
The thing that stings –
On this occasion, you.
And you are the opposite:
Prickling at what hurts,
Sharpness taking me by surprise.
It’s like
We both taste poison in the water
But whilst I cry it out
You just spit
And I’m hit
In the heart
By the words that you emit.
What can I do to love you
When I share my vulnerability
And you unwittingly
Cause me pain?
And how on earth do I tell you
that it hurts?

Holy Day

Come away, weary soul
Drink in this mile wide sky
And soak yourself in sun.
It’s time for your vacation.

Gorge yourself
Run through the fountains
Laugh in the sparkling rain
Bathe in the extravagance
He lavishes on those he loves.

There is Sabbath for everyone
In His good sweet timing.
Turn on the Out Of Office
Without fear or guilt
For you are worth SO much more
Than all you produce or sell or teach
Yes, you sow much less than you reap
And that is exactly as it should be.

Stop; just to see the flowers
And gaze at the mountains and the sea
This land was not laid in vain
It sings and whispers
of the most generous of loves
A beauty strewn like the stars,
Like the jewels of a bride
Who beams to speak of her groom.

This day
Was set apart
For you.

Treats the symptoms not the cause/What I’m not

I cannot be your

Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Zooey Deschanel-like creative muse

I cannot be your

saviour, redeemer, sustainer

That damsel in shining armour idea’s a ruse


But what I can offer you

is shoulders of steel and a heart full of stubborn love

and more patience than you might think possible

You just need to give me a reason to believe

it will all be worth it to stick it out

And that’s not very hard to do

You just have to be you.


I cannot be your


Curing all ills with magical feminine presence

I will not be your

live-in cook and cleaner, with added lovemaking

I’d do all sorts of things for love but I won’t (just) do that

You’d better shape up, ’cause I need a man

who can stand, strong or weak, on this own two feet

but who’d prefer to run a three-legged race.


I can’t be yours, anyway

I’ve been bought

But I’m available for long-term loan

If you’re up for a swap.


Does that sound like a good deal to you?

Ambiguous amphibious

I am half in one world and half out

Stuck between the two

In both but not fully of either

And I cannot quite get through.


If you knew what I believed

or that I’m not always sure that I do

Would you make it your business to change me?

or am I underestimating you?

Should you really care anyway?

And should I care if you do?

How do you feel about kissing frogs?

Are you actually a frog too?

Freedom of Information


It is just time


let the cat out of the box

whether to bury it

or let it breathe.

Make or break

they say

Sink or swim.

Never just slightly sever

or awkwardly float away.

That’s the real fear here:




Living now on the outside

with my secret no longer caged in.

I feel relief from my shame

But my heart’s cell feels strangely bare

since I freed it.

Empty nest syndrome

I suppose.


where to next?