Here is the poetry I included for the church service for my mam:
MAM,
You have given me a wonderful childhood and the courage as an adult to venture into the world, to be strong. You have always loved me and I adore you beyond measure. My poetry is inspired by my lovely life. Thankyou.
EASTER SANDALS
Standing proud, little jewels adorn the washing line, waiting for me to set them free. They leap and twirl like acrobats of the high trapeze. Silver threads catch every bit of light that comes my way, and I hear them giggle in anticipation of the day. The hunt for brightly patterned eggs and church bands parading throughout South Shields, with banners high and trumpets loud. So it was in my day. As vivid and refreshing now as Mam’s homemade lemonade.
PASTRIES FOLDED HIGH TO RISE
The buzzing of bees and a lazy bluebottle hum a distant tune as sunshine sparkles and glints its way into every single room. Best china sits in regal splendour 'mongst a thick perfume as, pink cheeked with oven heat, we take our seats to feast upon the delights of a lovely afternoon.
I MISS THE LIVELY HEARING AIDS
The throng of family to a child is indeed a most wonderful thing. I miss the lively hearing aids, busy pinnies serving homemade bakes. Wispy chins of a bygone age. Lipsticks chattering, high-pitched squeals. Bottom drawers, precious things. White tablecloths, handmade, decorative lace. Linen napkins to be placed. Silverware adorning a table laid. Crystal jugs housing milk and cream. Perfumed roses holding centre stage. The ticking of time as we embrace the auld folks of Shields.
CLIMB INSIDE
Climb inside. Curl up. Lay your head and slide into favourite old nursery rhymes, tattered now and tired. Aged, faded with time. Saturated with smiles. Now return to your child.
THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL FULL
To climb inside a world where angels and fairies dwell. Dressing up in Mam’s old shoes, tottering, feeling very grown. You reign supreme in your domain of makeshift tents and sandcastles. Waking with dreams still in your grasp, relishing the threads as they dwindle and pass. Winter nighties, truly bold. Hot water bottles burning toes. Aunties with their treats in store, pinnies bold, lipstick galore. Always new concoctions to try, fermenting rose petals in jam jars nearby. Rags in hair trussed up at night to give you bold new curls. The perfect ballerina in pale pink ballet shoes. With Santa and the Tooth Fairy yours to keep forever. Creeping downstairs for midnight feasts. On a mission for party treats. The fridge a magnet for little feet.
A SPIRIT UNTAMED
A spirit untamed with sparkling eyes and gappy smiles. Baking mud pies under summer skies. Carrot tops and flowerpots. Wispy hair in cotton smocks.
THE TRINKET BOX
A magical merry-go-round of beautiful horses and dancing gazelle in shades of pastel and cotton candy.
HOW I MISS YOUR TENDER HEART
Tradition steeped, of a bygone era. A rich and vibrant tapestry of brightly coloured crochet blankets made over time, passed down from Grandmother to Mother to Child. Knit one, pearl one, learning to knit on the doorstep at home. A vibrant tapestry enriched by the measure of time. Your wisdom a precious commodity to be passed down to a generation bound up in laughter and idyllic daydream.