Lemon and Grapefruit Drizzle

Sitting and cooling in their tins, glistening


A freshly cut pomegranate spilling out seed.

citrus sting stinging inflamed tonsil

Tasting/testing is the cause of this sharp scratch

Silken, adding more flour. prevent curdling.

The acid does something funny to the eggs and fat.  


creaming butter and sugar for Monty Don’s dahlias.

 Flower flour

 eggs one by one, adding the juice

one grapefruit two lemons

alternate spoons of flour

prevent curdling

It is looking a bit odd, rather grainy.

Add more flour quickly.

Smooth and corn yellow. taken four eggs to bind it.  

A lot of fruit always makes for a longer bake

time with eggs flower and sugar. 

Madeleine. Jeanette

There are friends I would like to share

 filling with that warm sweet smell.  




My City

A garden wrapped in wool

pink, yellow and lavender


London flits through my mind

noise of birds, the bustle and smell

it’s quiet here


Bird calls are my sirens

crashing waves the south circular

this garden my Clapham Common

I’m home away from


A city that I longed to escape

pulls at me

Tugging at my hair, my skin, my nails

My breath comes too freely here

I gulp to fill my lungs with smog

just a salted sea breeze

Swansea croaks with fresh air

The spines of my books cracking with salt.

birds cat calling in the trees

I am isolated here

a child with her parents

escaped back to


From there to here

I long for what I had had

enough of

of London


A Friend and a Father

I remember lying on my bed looking out the window

Two pigeons on a ledge

No sheet on the mattress

I was changing it

You called.

Your father is dying.

We talk

I offer you what I can

Not much

I listen

You do not cry, you won’t yet.

Making your armour with words.

I listen.

You talk.

I never met your father.

Though I feel I have

When you talk of him now your eyes shine

With the wetness of tears

But also with a fondness

A love unique.


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