Whispers and Wanderings

THE FORCE There's a shift in the force today,               brought on by a bad dream.                            I put on my armour.                                     I'm not going to scream.  Instead I will shower                 and welcome the day                                                  and wait for the moment                                         these thoughts go away. And if darkness finds me,                  I'll push it away.       ...

With my oldest child turning 40 this month, it’s perfectly possible that the reflections that follow, have emerged as a response to this milestone in both our lives.  I wonder if you can relate to my experience.  Are there times when you look at your face in a mirror, in a photograph, or when taking a selfie, and suddenly you catch a glimpse of your younger self?  A part of you that you thought had faded away. Do you see a face which is both yours and not yours. A face which is softened by the years that you didn’t feel passing. Do you ever find yourself studying the creases on your skin - the wrinkles which have appeared silently, slowly and without announcement? Do you ever catch a glimpse of the spark that once was, and somehow still is? In The Selfie I am trying to capture that moment - the one when you really look at yourself, when you simultaneously see who you were and who you are now. THE SELFIE My mobile’s at arm’s length, What do I see? Whose is that face...

It is eight years since I first wrote this piece after nervously dipping more than just a toe into the world of Aqua Aerobics. It still makes me smile to read it back. Since then, time has marched on, fashions in swimwear have come and gone, and I am very pleased to report that both my sense of humour and my wobbly bits remain very much intact. Re-reading it now, I am reminded that some things never really change: public changing rooms are still a trial, enthusiastic female pensioners are still the undisputed queens of the pool, and there is still something wonderfully liberating about flinging oneself about in chlorinated water in the company of strangers who could not care less what size costume you wear. So as I repost this in 2026, it is with the benefit of eight more years of life, laughter and aquatic misadventure behind me, here is my original account of that memorable splash into poolside fitness.  This post is dedicated with love to my Aunty, my partner in Aqua Aerobics fo...

This story was originally written in December 2018 at a time when the feelings behind it were very new and raw. "She Stayed Until She Vanished" came from a place I wasn’t ready to share then. It was too painful, too tangled up with my own life to share. So I left it unfinished, telling myself that one day I’d come back to it. This is that day! A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since this piece was first written, and the woman I was then sometimes feels like a memory, familiar but also far away. With that distance, I now see Emma’s Story for what it is: part fiction, part experience, written in a way that helped me make sense of the things I didn’t quite have the words for at the time. Some of what she feels, I felt. Some of what she lived, I lived. And some of it is the story I needed to tell to be able to understand myself better. Now, with a clearer perspective and some small amendments, this is Emma’s story. However it also carries pieces of me, and perhaps, piece...

This is an adaptation of a poem that I wrote over 30 years ago. I have made a few tweaks to it and added a final verse. The foodie frame was created by Microsoft Copilot but the poem itself is all my own work. Hope it makes you smile. 😀

I CAN FIND NO TEARS I can find no tears now that you have gone, Even though I know you have passed on. I cannot hear your voice or your demands, I cannot see your face or hold your hands. I can find no tears since saying goodbye, There are just not any there for me to cry. I cannot wish you back - your pain would stay, And I could not ask you live your life that way. I want to find the tears to communicate, This numb and empty feeling which I hate. I send a message to your silent phone, But never see the thumbs up, which says I'm not alone. Dad, you are gone and somewhere wait the tears. The memories of you, all my hopes and fears. So I listen to the music you enjoyed, Hoping that each beat will stitch this void. One day the tears may find their way to me, In the garden, breeze or rustle of a tree. Until that day, I’ll carry what I can - The love, the loss, the shadow of the man. Although my eyes stay dry, my heart still knows, The weight of every memory that it holds. A father...