I was naked so I hid: A poem for International Women's Day

‘I was naked so I hid’ and You…You did not ask me why.

You did not ask me why, because You knew.

The times before when I did not hide; I was so exposed the people laughed; or did not understand or said they understood, but they did not really see me.

‘I was naked so I hid’ and You…You did not ask me why.

You did not ask me why, because You knew.

That they had written You, made You in their own image. God in pursuit, to be feared, as one who eats even the smallest humans for breakfast as a snack or because of their ‘sin’.

‘I was naked so I hid’ and You…You did not ask me why.

You did not ask me why, because You knew.

The vulnerability of lowering one’s guard when what is on the other side is unknown. It could be love, or it could be knives… and all that they would say to You in reply is, ‘am I my sister’s keeper?’

‘I was naked so I hid’ and You…You did not ask me why.

You did not ask me why, because You knew.

Instead, You asked me how? How I knew that nakedness was risky? You invited me to speak with You.

And You… You did not leave me exposed. But me You clothed. And said there is no shame in meeting me, naked, vulnerable, alone.

There is no fear in Love.

Dyspraxic

Drawing straight lines, and colouring inside of them always eluded me
Yet creativity flows in my veins, and I got an A* in year 9 art, when we moved beyond drawing lines to big ideas
Skating was challenging, jumps and turns impossible
Personal trainer employed, and much practice didn't change my ability to jump; but
Relationships were my real reason for learning to skate and I made lots of friends
Academically minded I thrive on conversation
Xcept those big ideas sometimes get lost on paper 
IQ in places in the superior range.
Clearly dyspraxic

Risen but not shining

As I rise without shining
The dawn fog still clouds my mind
Despite the fact that dawn was many hours ago
On this the second shortest day of the year.

I take a walk to clear my head
Driving to my destination, of course,
A land of smashed avocado and faux marble surfaces
And florists, so much Christmas topiary.

My vision of the shoreline is monochrome
but not lacking in glitter
as the sun makes its wary appearance.
Perhaps the sea-breeze will blow me into technicolour?

The cappuccino wears a thick jumper of woolly foam
A hobnob plays companion to my caffeine pick me up
Will this coffee clear the clouds?
Distracted by this vision of avocado and chorizo, feta
and balsamic vinegar, the colour creeps in...
in the periphery of my vision.

Wandering between shoppers back whence I came
A brass band plays
A woman who sells wooden toys comments that today
The shoppers are 'merry'
Makes a change, I suppose.

Clutching a few choice purchases
I walk back to the car
Accompanied by so many dogs!
(and their owners) of every size,
shape and colour imaginable!

Restored to colour I return home.
Risen and not shining but perhaps
Vaguely rosy round the edges,
warmed by the sun, and chorizo, brass bands
and a fleet of shopping dogs!

Oh Manchester! - my second ode to MCR

Oh Manchester! Promise me you'll never change,
or maybe do, maybe grow and learn,
but promise we'll still enjoy a swift half, or two,
on my return!

Oh Manchester! Don't cry those hefty salty tears,
why not give me a spot of sunshine?
We've had three really good years!

When we first met I'll admit I was a bit scared of you, Manchester
You were bold, brash and upfront, but you always told the truth,
A trait I admired, even if you were occasionally uncouth.

Oh Manchester! We fell in love quickly,
sealed the deal and bought a house together,
you taught me loads about DIY and how to enjoy bad weather

Look Manchester, its true we're going on a break
And that's a fact we'll both have to get used to
But I'll be back from time to time
The rules of a break were always hard to stick to!

Over time we'll both garner new friends, Manchester,
But it'll be more than I can take
If you replace me with another Essex-girl
Leaving me shouting 'we were on a break!'

So how can I show you Manchester, that my love for you is true?
I had your face inked on my leg, bae!
And nothing spells love like a tattoo!

Oh Manchester! Never change!
Or maybe do?
But know the truth is, I'll always love you!

Two Thomases join the priesthood

Two Toms, both alike in dignity

(In fair Angleterre, where we lay our scene),

From lowly parishoners to take one day a curacy,

To serve the church of England both are keen.

Thomas 1 I’ve known since time immemorial

A friend through all my life,

Thomas 2 has faced several foes with me

Not least the Manchester 10k strife.

Both boys fit priesthood hand in glove,

Swift to love and slow to rage,

They’ve a couple of years training to prove

Their academic rigor reading many a page

To theological college you’ll go my friend

So in the power of God we send (you)

(with thanks to Shakespeare for the rhyming skeleton of this sonnet 😉 )

Here is a picture of me with Thomas 1 when we were kids – we’re using his little sister as the baby Jesus. Thomas 1 is caring and generous and thinks very deeply. When we were teenagers we used to have competitions as to who could put their tent up first at camp and we would spend hours on the telephone. He is compassionate and practical – he’s going to be ace at this vicar-ing thing.

Here is a picture of me with Thomas 2 on completion of the Manchester 10k a few years ago. Tom is in a lot of ways the complete opposite of me – he’s an internal processor, he will eat bananas, and look -  he’s so tall I’m sure he enjoys a different atmosphere to me! You don’t have to dig very far to find in Tom 2 similar traits to Tom 1– he is generous with his time, and kind, he has many good ideas that he shares when I shut up long enough to let him get a word in. When I talk to Tom I feel heard and cared for, also optimum vicar material!

If either Thomas is half as good a priest as they are a friend, their congregations are going to be spoilt rotten!