Thank you – it’s a mix of memory and fiction. Eve was my grandmother and some of this was from an earlier poem that I read at her funeral. What struck me was how she died surrounded by her daughters’ love <3
This is a great capsule for your memory of your grandmother. Being surrounded by your children is a testament to who she was, that speaks to her body of work as a parent.
As always, I’m in awe of your ability to create visual imagery with words. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. In your pieces, I feel as though I’m *there* - looking through your eyes.
“ Mist rolls in from the west, blue milk, nothing visible – until you.” Such a stunner, this line. You are an excellent painter with words Dear H. I feel all of this one, both cold and warm down my back. The skin of it. Brilliant, as always! J
This reads wonderfully cinematic. I love how one image dissolves into the next until an entire life has quietly unfolded. The ending is very moving. I envy your writing skill. <3
The life of Eve, honoured here in such a lovely way, woven with threads of sorrow. I love the form you’ve used. Like, a prose narration, then a song. I immediately recognised ‘aeroplanes landing’. And ‘blue milk’ is wonderful. Such a lovely tribute 🦌 🩵
This felt so vivid and grounded - that image of the warm potato paste on the nylon skirt instantly hit me, and the ending with the cold lochs meeting love is just stunning ✨
What came to me was the birth in and out of life, and the labours of love and being in between, those portals of coming and going — of spinning. Always beautiful. 🖤✍️
Photo: stormy Charmouth beach
Gabh fois, a ghràidh is Scottish Gaelic for ‘rest, my love’.
What an elegant poem, if this in remembrance of someone, it was done with such great taste.
Thank you – it’s a mix of memory and fiction. Eve was my grandmother and some of this was from an earlier poem that I read at her funeral. What struck me was how she died surrounded by her daughters’ love <3
Those who cross over surrounded by people who love them are fortunate.
Having witnessed those who crossed alone when I worked in a care home, I would very much agree.
This is a great capsule for your memory of your grandmother. Being surrounded by your children is a testament to who she was, that speaks to her body of work as a parent.
Thank you. She had her work cut out with six children!
Wow, she was a saint!
This is melancholy gorgeous.
Thank you Liz!
Now I've got this idea of people being searched for monsters. I'll be writing about this!
Do send a link when you’re finished :)
My favorite part: “In the early hours, Brechin soaked in fog,
you spun once more and found your daughters’ eyes catching yours –
cold lochs,
meeting love.
You dive into them.”
We are so fortunate to have your writing to read H.
Thank you Judi, sorry for slow reply, my phone is playing up… x
Your poetry is absolutely one of a kind!
Thank you Matthew!
As always, I’m in awe of your ability to create visual imagery with words. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. In your pieces, I feel as though I’m *there* - looking through your eyes.
Just saw this comment – thank you very much Jeff!
Such a beautiful poem! Your memories paint very soft, yet intricate and detailed pictures. Your words bring them to life.
Thank you Christopher!
you weave timelines as effortless as breath.
"you spun once more and found your daughters’ eyes catching yours – You dive into them.”
a pulley system moving emotions to the north sea, a knot tied in my throat.
🖤 thank you
Powerful, beautiful.
Thank you KD!
“ Mist rolls in from the west, blue milk, nothing visible – until you.” Such a stunner, this line. You are an excellent painter with words Dear H. I feel all of this one, both cold and warm down my back. The skin of it. Brilliant, as always! J
Thanks Judi. Hope you’ve been having fun out on the water <3
We’re not out on the water yet. Have been restoring the little boat and until she is ready, we are just working….😊
This reads wonderfully cinematic. I love how one image dissolves into the next until an entire life has quietly unfolded. The ending is very moving. I envy your writing skill. <3
I’m glad the ending worked because I kept that in from the very first draft, but I wasn’t sure. Thank you very much Petra <3
The life of Eve, honoured here in such a lovely way, woven with threads of sorrow. I love the form you’ve used. Like, a prose narration, then a song. I immediately recognised ‘aeroplanes landing’. And ‘blue milk’ is wonderful. Such a lovely tribute 🦌 🩵
Thank you Lily, that means a lot <3
This felt so vivid and grounded - that image of the warm potato paste on the nylon skirt instantly hit me, and the ending with the cold lochs meeting love is just stunning ✨
Thank you very much Brandi 🖤
What came to me was the birth in and out of life, and the labours of love and being in between, those portals of coming and going — of spinning. Always beautiful. 🖤✍️
Thank you Simone, all those portals coming and going so much faster than we expected 🩶
🙏🌀💖
really love it
Thank you Lotte <3