Sing for Me

And if

I place my lips

just so

will you sing for me?

25 June 2018
from the English Channel

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Crossroads

It is summer
and I am ill
falling
fast

I am listening
to the blues
to Robert Johnson
and wondering
about crossroads
and old roads
and intersecting paths
and the old ways
chants heard
in lush green leaves
prayers
and blessings
witchcraft

It is summer
and I am surrounded
by roses
and lavender
and geraniums
and hanging baskets
with unknown flowers
cascading
over the sides
like a floral invocation
to unnamed goddesses
everywhere

The wind
blows
in the afternoon
It no longer
plays havoc
with my curls
They’re gone away now
wherever it is
illness takes them

At night the air stills
stars sparkle
and glitter
like you once said
my eyes did

It is summer
and I am surviving

loss
and renewal
and relentless sickness
and time
in all its
temporary majesty

20 June 2018
on the Sussex Coast

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the fragility of summer

the night moves: Chemo Poetry

the night moves
in endless liquid
in pools of sweat
and suppressed vomit

and repressed dreams
and not quite forgotten
nightmares
and lucky escapes
and disastrous
adventures
and miraculous
rescues

and death
knocking at my door
and love waiting
at my back

and never ending
vistas
of sublime beauty
that take
my breath away
and take up
too much space
in my fevered brow

the night moves
and never stops
with harsh breaths
and soft
almost silent
heartbeats

and dream
after dream
after dream
baptised
in cold sweat

and living
always
more living

11 May 2018

Dance and Fall: Chemo poetry

They gather around
ghosts
and loves
and stars
and Moon

I try
to dance
with them all
stumble
and fall

They falter
and wait
until I can dance
again

and I do

9 May 2018

Tiny Atomic Explosions of Love: chemo poetry

There are days
when the sickness
is so great
I think
it cannot
be borne

And yet it is

one breath
at a time
one doggie
cuddle
at a time

And when
the face
in the mirror
shows how
clearly
my body
is ravaged
with sickness
and disease

and I break
down
into sobs
that shake
the very
essence of me

He is there
never far
to hold me
until I can let go
and hold
onto myself
again

I think
that must be
what love is

Knowing when
to hold on tight
and when to let go

It is
a sickness
that can’t
be borne
but it is

through
great
and small
acts of love
and mercy

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