My Wordly Wealth

Heather Williamson

Poetry on roots, love, life and faith

Category: Poetry

  • Navenby

    Our lovely first home together. Too small for a growing family, and in need of many renovations, but dearly loved and remembered. I think the many dreams and the continued longing come from the fact that we had to move away – and that it was with a brand new baby. Rather traumatic perhaps, but… Read.

  • Pinball machine

    I am quite bad at following schedules, unless there are consequences to not doing. The children get to school on time, I get to appointments on time, but regular posting on this blog is patchy and without any real pattern. My energies and inspiration seem to go in fits and starts, and I have lately… Read.

  • Burden

    Can I touch your shoulder?Show you that I care?Our little lives brushSo closely by one another – Our heartbreaks pass so nearThey can hear each other breatheBut they do not speakExcept in tearsOr tired facesHeld up by a desire To manage somehowAnd not be a burdenBut you are not a burdenLet me walk beside youFellow… Read.

  • Read us again

    Is it escapismto take down from the shelf againthat old classic that you love – turning the dog-eared pages with that familiar anticipation?Is it merely comfort-seeking to watchtime after timethe film that is so brim-full of lovelinessthat you weep againand something in you is healed for a moment?I think it is a wish for the… Read.

  • A love letter to the socially awkward

    Hello you,sitting at the back, in case you are suddenly overwhelmed,I’d like to let you know thatI see you.Not in a starey, make-you-freak-out-and-leave-even-soonerkind of way,or in a Sauron and the seeing stones that Pippin picked up when he shouldn’t have kind of way,I mean – it’s ok.You don’t feel like you’re properly “in”, you have… Read.

  • After school drop-off

    Hiding in my car after school drop-offI’m sure I’m not alone in thisI’ve raced around making breakfastsAnd lunches and drinksFinding PE kits and art bagsHairbrushes, toothbrushesSocks, ties and pantsAnd now you are all set and goneI blow a kiss after you – Since people are near who might see -And I sitNow I have time… Read.

  • What will you leave behind?

    What will you leave behind as you go?I hope I leave only footprintsWhere I have journeyedNot the scratch of graffiti On the lives that touched mineNor the rotting stench of bad attitudeOr ugly behaviourLittering the paths I trodI cannot tellI fear there are wounds I have givenI wish I might with kindnessWipe them awayBut gentleness… Read.

  • Diagnosis

    We were supposed to have brioche rolls for teaTo put the burgers inThree evenings a week we have mealsThat arrive at our house in a big, red boxI put the fridge things away firstObviouslyBut there was no clear place to put the briocheSo I put it somewhere elseIt’s been a funny dayI tried rather helplessly… Read.

  • When I sleep

    Why, when I sleep, do I returnLike a wound never healedTo a home I used to know?I walk the roomsAnd pick up trinketsNow covered in dustThat were once precious to meI stuff my pockets with themThinking “I am so gladI got to come backOne more time – To take away the treasure That meant so… Read.

  • I write so I can breathe

    I writeSo I can breatheA blank page Is suffocatingPen to paperPierces a holeIn the wallsOf this vacuumAnd the wordsAre airI writeSo I can sleepMy dreams are freeWhen I have Taken out my tangledThoughtsAnd pressed them Between the pagesLike flowersLeft to dryI writeSo I can feel -Like getting upFrom kneeling too longIn one spotThe pain is… Read.

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