Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships Add comments


Creative types:  have you had that experience recently where you find yourself churning out usable lines, but you are far from your paper?!

Today the weather was extremely wet, and I hadn’t eaten my breakfast yet despite having done the school run and all the usual stresses that encapsulates.  I found an Alpen bar I had forgotten I’d shoved in my pocket a few days ago, and took a second to stand outside the library beside our (now empty) drippy pushchair and unwrap my food.

BAM! The first line of a poem and its accompanying acrostic leapt into my brain, closely followed by possible subsequent lines.  I had to recite them to myself all the way home, as my ailing phone does NOT like being exposed to the elements much (about 6 months ago it refused to fast charge or transfer any of my pictures via USB cable, in protest after a text convo in a downpour. I have only just persuaded it to give me back that functionality).  I need to get myself a waterproof pad of paper for my bag as well as my shower…



melancholy in the rain

Snaffling a saturated cereal bar

Out in an icy wind,

Goes this mother:

Gathering lost thoughts

Yearning for those that are gone for good.


I experience the mixture of loss, purpose, freedom and aching every time I drop off both of our children – it is especially acute when I then spend the couple of hours alone before I pick up Youngest.  I thought it would diminish as they got older, but it hasn’t.  No matter how difficult the morning has been, how much I need distance from them (and them from me!), how tired I feel; there is a moment to get over every time where I look at them leaving to start their institutional hours, and I want to snatch them back from the world.  Just muddle through with them for the rest of the day, take it as it comes.

Then there is the analysis of any harsh words I said that morning, piggybacking on harsh words I said to anyone in my whole life, which leads to the echoes of all the harsh words that have ever been said to me.  I try to push that train off its rails pretty quickly!

So by the time I have walked out of the school gates, maybe chatted to mum friends, bought some items at the little shop and wandered as far as the library; I am thinking about the next two hours and any creative endeavours, housework or things I need to catch up on.  There are always things to chase, and I never feel still. 

On that note, if  I am hoofing it, I miss the people I love who are dead – hope that they took the time to enjoy the journey and sometimes got to wander home by themselves looking at the sky and thinking about the universe and their place in it.

Just for a while.

I look at the sky, put on some music if I haven’t already, enjoy the freedom to just be myself for a while.  I think about when I’m a famous author, or when my screenplays and dramas will be performed by other people and how I might get to direct them someday.  I grow into this feeling of being someone outside of a mother and wife, own my thoughts and play with them.

Some of these thoughts make it on here 😉


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