ode to the teapot

Every morning you
wait, hear my
step
step
step
down the stairs
glimpse the dawn
of the dishwasher door
pulled open.

You, teapot, are
fully alert
lest, by an early morning
misstep
of crack or knock
you are relegated from
‘daily’ to ‘occasional’.

sitting proudly on
your dove blue
tray and blossom-patterned napkin
you listen
to the music of bubble
and steam, the faint
pliff of teabag
dropping
from a short height.

And welcome the
sharp, hot, dark stream
into your
shallow depths.

Oh teapot, how
content you are:
two or three minutes
pondering eternity
full of mystery
and mastery you
brew
nestled in your cosy.

And now, revealed
you relinquish yourself
to tilting, tipping,
teeming with
tea perfection.
Your sidekick
mug and you
a happy
mismatched couple.

A moment’s respite
white porcelain
teapot to consider
your antecedents
your factory provenance
and the luck that brought you
to me.

Another cup?

Teapot?

Note: this poem is from the ‘poetry retreat series’. We read Pablo Neruda’s ‘Ode to the Clothes’ trans. by W Merwin and were asked to write a poem about a familiar object in six minutes.

flat christmas moment

The parents are out.
The nephews and nieces
play elsewhere.
The presents are opened.
The lunch has been eaten.
The papers have been read.
The presents have been
perused.
The calls have been made.
The texts have been sent.
The run has been run.
The sales have been scouted.

It’s not quite dinner.
Etiquette does not yet
demand thank you notes.
No decisions are pending.
No-one else is in the office.
It is silent
beside the fire hush.

Time flattens out,
contours settle and
knots of muddle
unravel into
ordinary peace.
Tea goes cold,
expectation hovers,
then concedes.

Life drifts.

Front door scuffle;
they’re back.

routine poetry

I woke in my bed
voile curtains adrift
at the open window.
Perfect tea.
Absorbed in a magazine
that never disappoints.

I sat in the garden
to eat breakfast –
a courtyard really,
five metres by three,
maximum, all my
flowers are blooming.

I swept; faint scent
of rose petals,
of sweet peas,
which I picked.

I ran at the seaside.
It was easy on the way out,
due to the wind, but I didn’t realise
this at first and thought I
could run faster.

I wrote my journal with
tea in a thermal cup that
tasted – just – of washing up liquid.
I’d used too-old cherries
for the rock bun.

I bathed in the
bath that used to have an
uninterrupted view of sky,
until my neighbour
moved the television aerial.
I try to pretend it is a bird’s
perch.
It’s not often.

I dealt with email;
at the garden table, to
an old friend, after ten years
distance, at least.
His children are grown up.
Clouds sniffed past
cool breezes.

I ironed sheets and
pastel clothes that
wafted comfort,
listening to Chopin.

I wrote a poem.

things I want to tell my children but might forget – on the train.

Oh, look the train is moving!  It is funny because what often happens is that it looks as if the platform is moving while the train stays still.  But this is an optical illusion.  If we have already got a seat (hopefully together), we can relax and enjoy the train experience.

There are many aspects of train journeys which are interesting.  The first thing is that it takes a while to settle into the new space.  Sometimes I change seats several times, or find I need things from my suitcase which I have to get down from the luggage rack.  Sometimes I find the people around me are too noisy, or eating stinky food, or sometimes (if they are about two years old) screeching.  If we are together, we will need to avoid these things so that we don’t upset other people.  It can be hard to play quietly for a whole journey, but we will try.  Once we have settled into our seats, we might play a game, like ‘I spy’ or we might eat our picnic.  What would you like for your picnic?  I would like ham and cheese baguette with a few ready salted crisps and a raspberry jelly.  Then I would like an oatmeal and raisin cookie (a bit later on) and a piece of chocolate with a cup of tea.  Yum!  Picnics are the best.

Now probably you will want to watch a little video.  In the days when I was a little girl, you could not watch a video on a train.  You could read a book or do a crossword puzzle or look out of the window.  When I was small like you, I only went on a train two or three times.  When I went on a train, I just used to look at everything because it was so different to normal.  I don’t know yet whether we will go on trains a lot or a little, but I hope we will go on them quite often.  Did you know that your great great grandfather used to work on the railways, and when your grandmother went to visit, she used to play in their garden where trains went right past the garden gate?  In those days trains were propelled by steam, so they were very dirty and noisy.  The trains that we will travel on are much cleaner and quieter.

Sometimes on a train people don’t talk very much.  Maybe they are doing their work or reading their book.  But sometimes people get involved in conversations.  This is more common if the train is travelling between two small places in the countryside than if it is going between bigger places and London.  It is often fun to talk to people on trains because you can discover new things.  But it is also important to work out when a person no longer wants to talk to you.  The signs of this are that they look at their book or work more, or they look out of the window, or at their watch, or they leave long pauses in the conversation.  If this happens, just let the conversation fade and turn to another activity that you have brought with you.

Maybe then it is time for a trip to the buffet car!  This is like a tiny café on the train.  Sometimes there is even a chef preparing food.  The people behind the buffet have to make everything in a very small space.  Sometimes they are cheerful and sometimes they are grumpy.  It is a great thing to have a buffet car so you should always be nice and friendly to the person, even if they are a bit grumpy to you.

Every part of a train journey is special.  The start is fun because you can feel the feeling of embarking on an adventure.  But in a way the middle is even more fun because you are in a special space – miles from home but not yet near your destination – where it feels like anything could happen.  Then nearing the destination is also fun because it you get the feeling of something ending and beginning at the same time, which is a funny mixture of feelings inside.

When you arrive at the destination, it is very important to check that you have got all your belongings with you.  It is very easy to forget something so it is worth checking twice.  Pay particular attention to umbrellas, hats and scarves which are the easiest things to lose.

I hope you will love train journeys as much as I do.

This train terminates here. (That’s what they say on trains).

reflections on blogging, one month review, ‘discovering more beauty through writing’

The subtitle to the blog ‘discovering more beauty through writing’ has also been on my mind.  I wrote it without any real reflection; this in itself is important for my work.  Writing is the place where I discover what I think and feel about certain things.  It seems to arrive onto my journal, a screen, a letter and it’s at that point that I find out what is there.  I know there are some people who mull over their work forming it in words in their mind before they write it down, but I’m not made like that.  Now I think of it, it’s like brewing tea (which I also love), I’m aware of phrases swimming about in my head for a certain period of time before they pour out in a writing stream.  I try to stay out of their way, because if too much conscious, analytical me gets in the way, they lose their naturalness.

There are several ways that I am discovering beauty through writing.  I love beauty – in nature, in things, in people, in adventures – and over time I have come to see beauty as a place in which magical things can happen, things like hope, healing, courage, revelation, insight.  In my own writing, I am trying to grow an attitude that sees more beauty in everything, but also to pay attention to particular instances of beauty, almost to amplify it in a world that is so often full of distress.  In addition to this, I have found that sometimes I can write about hard things and discover the beauty in them as I write.  This is because writing brings understanding and meaning, and it is meaning that can make difficult things bearable, and even redeem them and transform them into something full of honour and grace and depth.  For me, this is the true magic of writing.

Finally, knowing that I might want to write at any moment increases my attunement to the present.  It heightens my sensitivity to beauty all around me.  It makes me be on the alert for treasure that I can catch in my writing net and bring home to nourish people with.  It’s so much fun!