Into the Walled Garden
Poems - 2005
Poems - 2006
Poems - 2007
Is this book just vanity on my part? The short answer is yes.
That said, I don?t think that anyone who writes, whatever their level of
competence, does so entirely altru istically. We want to be read, we want an
ISBN number or t wo to our names and we want to gather dust in the lending
libraries of last resort…
This collection has come into e xistence for all of the reasons stated above, but it
is also a product of circu mstance. Over the last ten years or so I have worked
through the small hours with the everlasting support of my wife, Ka ren.
Unfortunately, Karen is with us no more, having succumbed after a long illness
to the ravages of cancer and its treatments, and so, propelled by the twin fo rces
of vanity and gratitude for Karen?s support and forbearance, this collection
I have no idea who will actually read these pieces, nor do I have any idea how
they will ta ke to them. The point now, in these months following Karen?s death,
is not one of sales or critical accla im, but is rather an act of re me mbrance and
thanks for the best of years.
As we do, so shall this book…gather dust, I mean, which is the only inevitability
that any of us can ever face. It doesn?t mean, however, that we can?t find grounds
for optimism even in the darkest of times. Maybe some where in all of this you
will find your own optimism too. I ce rtainly have.
Cirencester, July 2010.
Inside out, flat on a table, a ll patchwork lining and elbows,
scissors shut, threads sticking out between the blades,
silk discarded, off cuts, frayed with use,
a needle, thread and a steady hand,
hung on wire at the back of a wa rdrobe,
worn again, hands in shallow pockets.