The Swan

I had thought myself
at the edge
of the soft-flowing
held in the grip
of the Earth,
of cool grass
around my own.
Then she came.
The fluid curve of neck
long and white,
the sailing, soft wings
like a chariot,
putting dancers
to shame
with her perfect
lines and
unconscious grace.
Did she know,
when her feral eyes
met my searching ones,
how beautiful she was?
I only know
what I felt
in the brief glimpse
of shared sight.
She, wild,
saw me, tame,
and suddenly
I was known
as a creature
one with all nature,
a breathing thing
among many brothers
and sisters 
under the sky.
She sailed on until,
a white cloud, 
she was carried 
round the bend
and away.
But she did not 
leave my heart,
for she had given
me myself.
I recognised
what I had forgotten
-I was home.


She Races

She races cars
and hearts
and parts
the clouds
to reveal
the gentle face
of the moon.

At night
she tumbles
the wild surf,
sea-foam in
her hair and

when you open
the door to
the sun-kissed
she’s there.

This is inspired by one of my friends- yes, I know a sea-foam woman!

She Walks

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I watched ‘Wild’ with Reese Witherspoon the other evening, and it inspired this poem. One young woman’s journey walking through California to Canada following the Pacific Crest Trail- she is trying to find something- maybe how to put down grief and ‘enjoy life’- maybe it was that simple.

A friend’s son, Jake, is now heading for a six week walk of his own in Spain.  I wish him and all the other walkers out there luck.  And may you lay down the unhelpful and find the beauty of living.

Technical note: apologies for the splitting of the poem with borders- WordPress seems to dissolve the formatting, so I had to save as two separate images.


His paw
is not a

though his eyes
are green
and soft
and he
his black fur
before warm

Still, when he is
curled on your lap
your heart may
to see them
larger than they
should be
tipped with
razor claws
they could
take on
a lion.

This housecat
when he places
his paw
on your cheek
just below your eye-

He knows
he has
your wild heart

The Cat

Sometimes, sometimes
he will tuck in
his claws
and offer his
into your hands.

A wild thing
calling you
your heart echoes
his and
for a
you are both

You will never
know why he
gives his
greatest treasure
to you,
nor why your
wild heart
to rest in
his paws,
trusting with
abandon it is
when greater
beasts have
failed it.

(This was is inspired by my cat Smokey- he’s been a silky companion for twelve years now!)

The White Hart

I saw him-
lit by moonlight
milk fur and soft
onyx eyes
pawing my garden
ripping the dirt
with his
fine hoof.

He did not
look up
though my heart
called him loudly.

Perhaps he
could not hear
through the window.

His antlers
and noble
painted the sky

his home
in trees.

his tail flashed
a white sail
in the night

my heart tore

to see
in his wake.

I wonder
how it might
my life
from that night

for had he
met my eye

I would have

with him.

Garden Wild

I live outside
of things.

I creep close
to the bushes
and grunt
in the leaves
with the hedgehogs.

I breathe in
sweet jasmine
I breathe out
all the houses
I used to know.

My dress hangs
on a rose thorn
in a closet of
moonlit marigolds.

I am captured by
green wild owl
eyes and
none of the places
I used to know.

My face turned
towards sun
my heart a
flaming bird
burning as it goes.