March 18th, 2001

Time stopped;

The hands rusted to a shuddering halt, and the world shrank.

From that moment on, life would never be the same;

For then, my Darling, for then you were born.

Announcing your presence with a self-satisfied wail;

And suddenly I heard the tick, tick, tick of our new life.




Wishing My Life Away

I have decided that in my next life I will be everything that I am not in this one.

I will be tall, almost 6 foot in my bare feet.  It will be nice to be able to reach the top shelf in the kitchen cabinets without standing on a chair.

I will be slender, and lithe, whilst still retaining some of my curves.

I will be blonde, or as dark as ravens wings; but I would quite like to keep the fire which goes with my auburn locks.

My hair will be poker straight, sleek and glossy, and – please God – it will be manageable!


In my next life I will breeze through my lessons in school, I will make friends with ease and I will never feel alone, or different.

I will study for examinations that I have chosen, not which were chosen for me after an administrative error on the side of the school.  Even if this should happen, it will most definitely NOT be too late to do anything about it.

Because I will have studied for my chosen exams, I will of course, pass them all with flying colours.  No mediocre, as average as the next girl marks for me.

I will gain entry to university without conditions, and I will grow and thrive in ways I can only imagine.


In my next life I will have love affair after love affair, with no attached expectations, nor yet recriminations.

I will have more sex, with more partners – safely, naturally.  I may even have a one night stand.  Or several.


In my next life I will learn to speak in front of a group of my peers and colleagues without blushing and sweating, without the give away tremor in my too quiet to be heard voice.

In my next life I will secure myself a high paying job, in an ethical company who values their staff, and appreciates their loyalty.

My next life will see me marrying someone who wants to marry me – because they cant imagine life without me, and not because they have seen their own friends get engaged and, somehow, have to be the first to be wed.

I will most definitely NOT end up divorced within 5 years, and left with nothing while my ex and his mistress sell my home out from underneath me.

I will not be that doormat!

In my next life, I will learn to stand up for myself, and others. To speak up when necessary, and not to worry so much about everything.  I will not have issues with my mental health, or indeed my physical health either.

And maybe – just maybe, in my next life I will learn to be happy and at peace with what I have.  For in THIS life, I am only just beginning to realise that this is the ONLY wish that really matters.





The Detour

I have come to think of you as Icarus; he of the impossible dream of flying to the Sun.

I watched as you followed your own dreams to the life-giving brightness that you seemed to need, as much as you need oxygen, to be able to live.

But you flew too far, too fast; And the heat and power of your own enormity beat you back, and you fell ever so slowly back down to earth.


But don’t let that be the end!


Shake the last vestiges of sleep from your dream filled eyes, and rise once more.

Shield yourself with your soot blackened wings, and wear your bruises as proud battle scars!

Lift your angels voice, and use your words to lift the lid on the insecurities and injustices in the world to which you belong.

My Darling Girl – you WILL reach your destination.

It is only the route which has changed.




Written for  my eldest Daughter, who has been having a rough time of things.  I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she WILL eventually fulfill all of her hopes and dreams.  She may be taking a detour to her planned route right now, but I suspect half of the fun is in the journey.

Featured image is William Rimmers “Evening (The Fall of Day). Also used by Led Zeppelin on their Swan Song

Exit: Stage Left (for now)

I ran a marathon last night;

At least, that’s how I feel this morning.

Precious little sleep, stressed and worried;

Manifested as a head filled with cotton wool and aching joints.

Peaceful repose drifted away on the smoke of long held dreams;

Abandoned and gone up in flames.

Who knows where the ripples of uncertainty will end?

Time will tell the fatal tale of this decision.

For now all we can do is cling onto the craggy hand holds of your need to be well;

And offer a prayer to Thalia and Melpomeme that all’s well that ends well.



Someone very close to me has, for many years, had the dream to go into Musical Theatre as a performer. Many years have been spent heading in that direction.  And the signs were all there.  Big, shining stars and name in lights signs.

And then the twin masks of Comedy & Tragedy became the twin masks of  Depression & Anxiety, and things got too much to bear.

And so a self- enforced break from it all has become the only way out.  From a medical stand point, I suppose it is the only way forward.  From an industry stand point, I can’t help but worry that this has sent the longed for career path off on a detour that may end up with them wandering around lost for years.

I’m sending Thalia & Melpomeme (the muses of Comedy & Tragedy)  those prayers, in the hopes that the stage curtains part again at some time in the near future.


Hope Springs Eternal From A Mothers Love

Fighting with your own demons is exhausting

But you eventually find a way to live with them

Living side by side, not exactly in harmony, but in a kind of wary stasis.


Watching your own child battle with her demons brings a different sort of exhaustion

And you can only stand on the sidelines and shout encouragement to her

As she grapples with them in a day by day effort to survive.

Dear Future Older Generation

Oh you pretty things – you angelic upstarts!

You are the children of tomorrow – the vanguard for  future generations

Raise your voices above the maelstrom, and lift your banners high above their blinkered eyes

Signal your intent in semaphore across the land, and proclaim outrage at every opportunity.

Scream out your anger at those who have closed off their ears to gentle rebuke

And rage against the machine which has ground shudderingly to a halt.


Old they may be, and this can not be helped!

But older does not mean better – or indeed wiser than you

It is nothing but the marks of time pictured on skin, and rooted in brains

It will come to you eventually as it came to them

Make your life in your own way, but be mindful of those who follow on

And try to leave a better world for those who see you as blinkered and unhearing.


Young you may be, but this is no fault of yours!

You are an empty vessel – an as yet unmoulded lump of biomorphic clay

Do not allow yourself to be filled with the self-fulfilling prophecies of the older generation

Do not become a mini me clone of anyone who has gone before

Make yourself in your own image, and do not be told who you should be

Artistry in any form is always best viewed from a personal perspective.




I’m feeling quite political today. Something I NEVER used to be.  I don’t know if it is living with my husband which has done this to me (he is a committed socialist and union rep), or if it is being aware – as a mother – that there is now more at stake then just me, or if it is something which happens to us all as we approach a “certain age”. Maybe it is just a general reflection of the state of the country right now.  Who knows?