My Wordly Wealth

Heather Williamson

Poetry on roots, love, life and faith

Category: Poetry

  • Vein hope

    I present my armsin turnas usual.”Ah, your veins are hidingare they?””Yes”, I laughas usual.Needle slips in,needle slips out.Cotton balls tapedacross my forearms,I return home,perforated. Read.

  • Don’t b silent

    Concerning me—my ancient wombis acting weirdlyI presumb.For now they saywhen there is roombto fit me inthey will exhumbthe insidesas if from a tomb.Dear ladies, check—and don’t assumb. Read.

  • Soft

    Too soft inside,that’s your trouble.Not resilient enough.In a good way though—like a feather pillowor a cashmere sweater—not like underdonebanana loafor a deflating balloon.Too soft like you weremeant to be so.Like a safe placefor others to fall,like a hugyou never want to leave. Read.

  • The voices

    The voices said stop.They said no-one will read it.Those that dowill do so by accidentand will discover they do not like it.They saidwho are you to think your wordsare poetry?So I repliedI will read it.I will write the words that please me.And I will enjoy the sound they make andthe image they createand I will… Read.

  • Sea glass

    I am not what I waswhen I was newnor am I what I should be.Broken by the beatingsof lifeand whirled in its storms.Crashed hard in the rocksand floated endlesslyendlesslybut not drowned.I hope that kind handswill lift me againin time—like sea glass. Read.

  • Broadhaven

    I will miss this soon.The clatter of the slatted blindsin the breeze,the lazy days that seem to be without time.Sand scattered across the tilesand the smell of wetsuits.The corner shop that sells postcards,Welsh milk, croissants and cheap body boards.The daily wondering what timewe will go in the seaand whether to have cod or scampifor teaor… Read.

  • Add friend

    When I was youngfriendship happenedon the streetor the playgroundor, if it rained, inside my houseor yours. It didn’t existin words that mysteriously arrived before meas I sat quietly reading my bookor eating my tea.The same was true of unfriendship.If you decided you didn’t like meI would no longer see youon the streetor in the playgroundor… Read.

  • Rosena, Rosana

    Three was always tricky in friendshipunless you quietly assented to joinbut remain on the edge.Granted the favour of being second choiceif first choice wouldn’t play.Learning to swallow the sorrow of being therebut not essential—I’m Rosena, she’s Rosana, you’re just Rosie!SniggersIn the mornings,sat between another two as we aredriven to school by someone’s mum.Supposed friendsas you… Read.

  • Handstand

    If I could do a handstandright nowI wouldn’t.Being upside down these daysmakes the room spin funny.When I was young I’d have liked to be ableto do a handstand,but arms and legs didn’t seem tocoordinate well enough—all too independent mindedto work together.A headstand was easier to managebut what looks cute at nine or ten,looks ungainly at… Read.

  • Too

    I am too.Too sensitive.I feel your displeasureI don’t know what to doSo I just feel it.All day. All night.I wish I could change it.I am too eager.You asked a questionWanted a volunteer.Pick me!I think.I have an idea.I am too slow.Tardy.Late.I was feeling those feelingsAnd trying to decideIf I said too much.Again.Then I realised the time.Too.I… Read.