nothing to jump in as hard as I try. Continue reading Mud and Puddles
With a baby and a three year old, I found it almost impossible to get out of the door looking anywhere as near polished as I used to. In fact, some days, I really did resemble someone who had been sleeping rough for a few nights. I couldn’t understand how some women could turn up with four or five children and look as if they had just walked out of a beauty salon. I wrote this poem on a particularly bad day when a large part of me was grieving the pre-baby me. Continue reading I was quite “Trendy” . . . once!
I was amazed when BBC Year of the Artist published this poem on their website.
I’m “mum”, and I’m rushing to get out on time
I’m wiping a nose as I run
I’m rubbing a bruise and making a drink
And trying to make it all fun