Poetry, Above All Is A Series Of

Where I Lived - Winter And Hard Earth.i Sat In My Cold Stone Roomchoosing Tough Words, Granite, Flint,to Break The Ice. My Broken Heart -i Tried That, But It Skimmed,flat, Over The Frozen Lake.she Came From A Long, Long Way,but I Saw Her At Last, Walking,my Daughter, My Girl, Across The Fields,in Bare Feet, Bringing All Spring's Flowersto Her Mother's House. I Swearthe Air Softened And Warmed As She Moved,the Blue Sky Smiling, None Too Soon,with The Small Shy Mouth Of A New Moon.

Every Day Is A Gift With A Child, No Matter What Problems You Have.

If I Felt, In The Event Of A Royal Wedding, Inspired To Write About People Coming Together In Marriage Or Civil Partnership, I Would Just Be Grateful To Have An Idea For The Poem. And If I Didn't, I'd Ignore It.

I Always Wanted A Child. Being A Mother Is The Central Thing In My Life.

I Write Quite A Lot Of Sonnets, And I Think Of Them Almost As Prayers: Short And Memorable, Something You Can Recite.