healingwords: poetry for the soul

It is hard to believe 5 years have passed without my wonderful Dad, although as I write the word 'without', aware of him looking down at me from the mantelpiece, I know he is still with me and always will be. 

Dream time, back in bluebell woods, standing on a sea washed shore as dawn rises, holding hands in peace, love flowing, promising to witness the dream as we wake to a new day. 

Congratulations to my son, with love and pride for his achievements and best wishes for his future. 

Today I am reminded of the importance of simple things and how this world health crisis is making us rethink what we really need in life. I am grateful for the unconditional love of my family and friends who make my life worth living.

This is a strange birthday. I am not one for big celebrations but 60 is 60 and I had planned to be with loved friends and my wonderful family. Today we are together only on screens and I can not share hugs and cake. Still, I am grateful. Grateful for another day, for my health, for the love I feel from those who sustain me, for all those keeping me safe, for all those working daily to keep us all safe. I look forward to celebrating with you all when we can and until then thank you for your love. 

Last night's beautiful full moon brought me sweet pangs of sadness as I opened the front door to an empty street and saw the moon, hidden by cloud above the roof tops.  Month after month I have stood at the door with my grandson, pointing up at the full moon or wandered the village streets to catch sight of it around corners. He has always loved the moon, it was one of his first words as I held him him to see an August full moon rising over the hillside. He spent his early years spotting all kind of moon shapes, from crescent to full moons on pictures, packaging and clothes. To see the moon without him was a reminder of our love which only grows with the passing of each month.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

This walk above St Feliu de LLobregat, looking down to Barcelona, is a oasis of peace and nature for people escaping from the city. The well marked paths take you over the hills, through trees, above the haze of heat and dust. On a warm day we were accompanied by runners, walkers, families and couples strolling hand in hand. This tree reminded me of that closeness.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

When I was young I was fortunate to have a nana and grandad who who were always there for me, taking care of us when my parents worked. I didn't miss my other grandparents, not understanding what I had lost.  As I grow older and am now a grandmother myself I find myself thinking more of the grandparents I never knew. They live on in the memories passed down by my mother, stories told and retold. © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

My mother never liked flowers on Valentine's Day. Although deeply romantic, she didn't approve of the commercialisation of the day and the idea that gifts were given for custom and not love. She wasn't even a great one for presents on birthdays or Christmas. What my mum really loved was a spontaneous thought, a flower from the garden, a kiss from the heart. Between them my parents needed no proof of love. They were entwined, meant for each other, happily together for over 60 years.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Today is the 69th anniversary of my parent's wedding, my mother died 4 months before they were able to celebrate their fiftieth year married. They were an inspiration of lasting love, overcoming poverty, hardship, ill health and all the stresses of life to support each other in old age. I miss them and remember them with love and thanks.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Three years have passed since my father died. Three years seems enough to recover from this loss but in this time I have learned that grief has no timetable. What is right for one is not for another and there should be no judgement at how we feel or the length it takes to become accustomed to a new reality.  In a way I don't think we ever are the same again, we just learn to continue life without our special people in them. When Dad died I also lost the link to my mother, who we talked of every day and kept alive together and my connection with my childhood and sense of place when the family home was sold. Living away certainly intensifies these feelings.  My best advice for the newly bereaved is the classic cliche of time. Keep them present, don't hide them away, include their memories, stories, opinions in your daily life and in time the sadness of their going eases and their presence in family life becomes natural and easy.  I can still be overwhelmed with ...

On All Saint's Day in Spain families travel to be together and take flowers to the graves of their loved ones. It is a national holiday and was a festive day long before the tacky side of Halloween overtook the shops here. My hallowed ground is a wood in Warwickshire which is in my mind today as I remember with love those who are no longer with me.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Best birthday wishes to my brother Chris, for always being there for me.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

This is a list poem prompted by the online course  ' The Wild Within' tutored by Wendy Pratt. Her courses are inspiring, if anyone is interested in writing or improving their poetry have a look at her website. https://wendyprattpoetry.wordpress.com/ Robins have always attracted me, they are such convivial, cheeky garden birds but this poem has a touch of melancholy as it is hard to picture a robin without remembering my dad in his garden. It has been two years now since I walked away.  Thanks to my brother Chris Knight for the photograph.  THE KEEPER Robin flies to his side, bone pain burns as creaking legs wobble up the cobbled path. A hop ahead rosy breast, grandad friending, tail wagging, earth skipping, scarlet waistcoat spade sitting, garden guarding, patch defending, cherry chest, fluff feathered, worm pulling, eye cocking, blackbird mocking, berry cheeked, pointy beaked, song trilling, cat teasing, ...

This poem and photograph are inspired by the wedding of my eldest daughter this week in our Valencian village, at the foot of the 'El Carrascal' mountain.  It was a magical, beautiful celebration bringing together the best of Spanish and Northern traditions (jamon and wine, tea and cake topped off with Irish music), uplifted by the love of family and friends.  LOVE IN THE AIR Under El Carrascal’s gaze sunlight dripped gold through silvered olive leaves, gilding blooms in wicker, greening tumbling ivy, casting dancing garlands on crisp blades of woven grass. Gnarled boughs embracing, bear witness to love’s union, groom serene, bride radiant, red curls crowned with flowers, gauze brushed with gold dust as puffs of white fairy fluff float skywards on May breeze. © 2018 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

A year has passed since the death of my father. A year in which I miss our daily conversations, his constant love and support, his wisdom and humour. On a difficult day when I all I could think of was the trauma of his death I heard his voice telling me to stop crying and write a poem. This poem recalls some of the special times I spent with my Dad. The sadness remains as to keep him entertained in his housebound later years I would email my poems to him. When clearing out his house I found a file with printed copies of everything I had ever sent him, poems, childrens stories, my unfinished memoir, the collection of poems about my mother’s life and death, my childrens rhymes. I wish he could read this one last poem and hope he knows how much he is loved. IN PLACE OF TEARS Standing on a chair at the kitchen sink, rinsing my hair in vinegar to make it shine; buffeted by wind on a Welsh beach sculpting a sand car big enough to drive; di...