For Rannoch

Posted: October 22, 2016 in Productions

I’m happy to share with you the poem I wrote for my husband, which was recited during our wedding ceremony.

Our love is drafted from your right angles and my rounded curves,
of inked sentiment and academic debate.
I love you for adding form to my flyaway thoughts,
for there is no art without fact, nor science without fancy.

Our love is mapped from our contoured experience.
Of lines from Arthur’s Seat to Molly’s cart, our hacienda to Tanah Lot.
I love you for turning my world upside down,
just to make it the right way up.

If I were to write our love story
there’d be no clichéd romance or Lynchian melodrama,
but it would simply say how I love you
for stopping my fear of tomorrow’s blank page.

For a thousand reasons and a thousand reasons more
I’ll walk by your side into the forever ever,
hold your hand as we face the sun.
This is no Kelpie deceit nor no siren’s song;

This is real.

This is love.

A Fond Farewell

Posted: February 21, 2016 in Poetry

I wrote this on behalf of my Mother, to express the love and loss she feels at losing my Grandma. I was honored to have been asked to write it, and even more honored to read it at her funeral.  

My heart breaks as you take your journey,
It seems too soon to say goodbye,
But the angels have called you home now,
Letting go is hard, even though I try.

But I will find strength in your memory,
That of courage, integrity and pride,
And I’ll face the days ahead of me
Knowing you’re still here, right by my side.

You were a true lady, with a soul so kind,
You could never be replaced,
You’ve inspired me to live my life,
With humility, dignity and grace.

Our bond was stronger than words can explain,
My love for you beyond measure,
Every moment of the life we shared,
Are memories I’ll always treasure.

I still hear your laughter, I still feel your touch,
And that now that we’re apart,
I’ll keep your spirit close to me,
Locked safely in my heart.

I’ll always be your songbird,
And until we meet again,
I’ll sing your memory loud and proud,
My beautiful mother and my best friend.

When I come, we’ll walk hand in hand,
There’ll be many new stories to tell,
Remember, this isn’t as final as goodbye,
This is just a fond farewell.

Tea for One

Posted: January 24, 2016 in Poetry

In the silence, our words form from dust
and lint, curled into clouds under the sofa.
A shuffling foot edges the rug into shadow,
unsettling the threads of all that is unsaid.
Tip-tap-tapping fingers
are the metronome of my frustration.

It’s easier to stare at the wall than at your face.
The way the blind’s cord dangles limply is really
rather beautiful.
I see you changed the ceiling bulb, second from the right.
Somehow light seems brighter when studied in silence.

I could ask if you want a cup of tea.
But I don’t.
I clank your favourite cup as I take it from the shelf.
Its echo seems too loud in this light.
I pour earl grey for one.

Ctrl Alt Delete

Posted: April 9, 2015 in Poetry

They told me to do it.
Asterisked persuasion detailed methods
Of bracketed bullets and bolded blades.

“You should shift across,” they said.

Underscored discussion
Kicked the stool from under
My resolve.

“We’ll help you,” they said.

Wireless friends in
Caps-locked debate
Backspaced my wired escape plans

 “Alt & delete your copy & pasted life,” they said

Cursor flick-knifed blur
Bled staccato scarlet
Across my blue-tooth tales.

Noxious advice screenshots my shutdown.



Objet d’art

Posted: February 5, 2015 in Poetry

I never told you that I loved you.
I just said that I might.
And I think I do.

Apart from that thing that you do.

You know.

That thing.

With the eyes.

The Dali eyes that melt time over place,
So I’m lost between both.
Or those Escher eyes that stop me going up.
Or down.

So I just stay.

But then the Warhol eyes scream colour at me.
Margritte eyes smother me.
Picasso eyes carve me to pieces.

And I’m scared.

To stay.

To go.

Bring back my Monet eyes,
My Rembrandt, Degas and Renoir eyes.
And then I might say
That I do.


Posted: September 13, 2014 in Poetry

I’d backspace my worry lines,
Tippex my flaws,
Vellum-finish my past to let the future shine through.

My square-bracketed cheekbones,
Would be sharp and strong –
Framing my portrait with inked purpose.

I’d savour the luscious curves of my Ms,
Calligraphed over blue, semi-colon eyes,
Punctuating all that is and will be…

My lips would be full of letters,
(Of the love variety),
Pouting in Pantone 186, whispering in lorem ipsum.


Posted: February 13, 2014 in Poetry

Jack Ketch’s footsteps
Echo on the black wall.
I’m doubled; constrictor-ties choke.
I gasp to breathe your air.

My dogshank eyes
Fill with your tears;
But my beautiful, butterfly bends
Won’t unravel.

My Gordian lover;
Entwined and entangled;
Plaited with hope;
Knotted with blood.

Hitch your hook to my noose.

Hang me your way.