Poetry

Enough

(A poem for those who find their circle)

Before we came here

we were alone

a single unit, adrift

navigating the rift

between us as girls

we never got the chance

to bond and to dance

to our own drum beat

always pushed to compete

in fear we are not enough

not good enough

not smart enough

not thin enough

ENOUGH

Enter the circle

here we are held

given space and time

to access the well

deep within us swells

a knowing

we've always known

we know it in our bones

we're not meant to be alone

busy hands, calm minds

we share, we laugh, we find

that all we need is right here

within the circle

and we are finally

enough

Dawn

(A poem for my mother-in-law)

the soft mother

the fierce carer

the list maker

the load bearer

the quiet strength

that makes us tall

the endless love

we feel it all

For Georgia

(A poem for my sister)

Three years between us

I would say

Three years apart

and worlds away

Endlessly compared yet

viewed as one

Each of us jostling for

our time in the sun

But neither could thrive

in the other’s shadow

We both needed light

to grow

to change

to become

Three years between us

we used to say

Three years apart

and here to stay

Unbroken

(A poem for the women at Her Circle)

the circle is unbroken

grief and joy

spoken and unspoken

in the ties that bind

we women find

an eternal fire to fuel

the furious rage

that often forgotten wise sage

that links us through

the ages to each other

for you are mothers

threading and weaving

life and love around her

your sister in loss

and limitless light

she stands beside you

your mother’s love

severed from its path

will always find a way

to rejoin the threads and stay

within your sisters

to harden your resolve and say

I will not stop the fight

try as they might

this circle will remain unbroken

bound forever in joy

spoken and unspoken

My Favourite Person

(A poem for child-free women)

Ruby is my favourite person

I see her smile and hear her laugh,

Her tears and fears on the winding path

She is courageous and bold

Warm and cold in equal measure

Her mind is known and knowing

Fills her soul

Ruby could be anything, do anything,

Say all that needs to be said

She knows solitude and comforting silence

Her voice is the loudest but she hears the most

Ruby is my favourite person yet

She will never be

That life is mine and mine to live, free

One day I may regret this path

But the knowing in my soul tells me to leap

And live this life that

My daughter never will

Ruby is not my favourite person.

I am

The Sewing Circle

(A poem for the circle of making)

What’s the good in that?

Doing her arty stuff again

Digging in all the long-forgotten

Hoarded treasures

Rummaging for ideas within

Fabric overflowing the bins

Bits and bobs in the shortbread tin

What’s the point of that?

Coveting buttons like gold and jewels

Since the 80s, I’ve had this!

Passed from hand to hand

Mother to daughter, in the circle

One sits here, another there

Everyone in their rightful chair

What’s the use of that?

Speaking through her fingers

The threads can talk

Anything you need, someone’s got it

All the knowledge is in the room

That machine doesn’t sound right to me

It needs a drop of oil or three!

What’s the good in that? He says

Great sighs of frustration

But more often peace

Exquisite silence, pockets of nothing

But calm rhythmic motion

Needle in, needle out

That’s what it’s really all about

The Imposter

(A poem for when you take a leap)

Hail the imposter,

Herald of potential.

‘Push back, go back,’

she says.

But you will not be deterred.

Welcome the imposter,

for she is your light.

Your guide

in these uncharted waters.

Know the imposter

and all her encroaching

black thoughts.

For when she arrives,

you are changed.