Today, I shall go gently.

Today I shall go gently. 

Today, I shall go gently
out into this hurting world. 
I shall look into the eyes of others
and smile. 
Even if my heart hurts
and my life feels stunned,
I shall smile, 
as I have so little idea
as to what the other 
may be feeling. 
Today, I shall smile
inside and out for there
is Light enough to share.

Loving the Mystery


Loving the Mystery

Loving the Mystery.

I can feel the dream in my heart for you,
you whom I Love so deeply.
The distance of time has spun
the thread which runs between we two.
I see it’s from the eternal ball of silk
which can never be destroyed
for I shall and have forever loved you.
As a seedling Loves the beams of the sun
which strengthen and feed it by its light,
so you feed me and burn within my heart.
You are my challenge, you lovely man
and I am the brush of the breeze
as you walk in soft rains,
the one who sits by your soul
in the breathing of the day
and causes you to play with
the frisson of delight at the
meeting of our deepest glances.
What an enigma you are to me,
oh dearest, funny man……
and yet I feel you,
I sound you in my cells and sinews
and I do oh so Love you;
this is true.

Black Dog

Written when the veil has come down and is around my shoulders. Written in honour of ALL who travel with black dog somewhere around, nearby and who wonder why …..yet all will be well. 


He doesn’t bite,
this black, silent dog.
He just catches your darkened eye
in a quick skewed glance,
keeping you captive with his heavy stare
and drops down his silken swaddling cloth,
dampening you,
dampening life.

Be still.
Be quiet…..
don’t you make a fuss now.

You don’t ask for this-
he just does it…..
you the prisoner,
he the stumm, cold jailer
who comes and goes
at his own pleasure.

Shake out of it.
Pull yourself together.
Cheer up.
You’ve got so much to be thankful for.

They call him Depression
and pump you, his captive,
the silenced manekin with drugs….
They hope black dog will be gone…..
But we know, black dog and I
that he lifts the veil off, that swaddled cloth,
as fast as he dropped it on,
only at his choosing;
not theirs nor mine, but his.

Contrapuntal Chatterings

Contrapuntal Chatterings

Gentle joy
quiet, still, steady.
Words wander in
my mind preparing
to be ‘fit for purpose’.
Layers of words
dart in and out
wanting to be heard
desperate to be written.

Salubrious, sensual shining
contrapuntal streams
want to flow colour
around my little world.
The moon waxing high
washes a gleaming light
into my dancing eyes.
It lights my path ahead
and I am blessed,
me and my little life.


my salivating mouth becomes quite wide.
An itching foot comes hurling from inside,
boofing an arrogant provocateur
right in the their ego bound, tweeting mush……
It would have been so luscious
if I had been born a demurely,
mouse voiced woman ~
but no, I am here with my noisey self
a cacophoney of colours and words
held back for far too many tear stained years…..
Now I am sixty one, I shall hang my voice
on my rambuncious foot …….
wear the much spoken of purple
AND rattle that wretched walking stick
along the railings on the outside
of my lifelong cage of sweetness…..
OK then,
just sometimes, if I must.

‘Passion Burst’ ~ Flick Cook.  Painted 2011


I Ask My Heart

I ask my heart –
“what do you feel?”

My heart replies –
“I feel great sadness
that I asked to be 
taken seriously so often
yet you were always too busy
in your head – 
What do YOU feel?”

I then say to my heart –
“I don’t know how to feel 
as I have spent so much of my life
not listening to you when you tried
so very hard to teach me.” 

“It’s never too late” says my heart
“but listen now, I beg you –
for I weep on your behalf,
whether you feel it or not.” 

“I know.” says I, “I know.”