Author Archives: Liz McPherson

Regeneration

The donkeys are growing flowers on their farm, treading quietly with flinted hooves, driving seed to earth and in their footsteps will root Catchfly, Fumitory, Stinking Chamomile, Prickly Poppy. Then will creep vole and field mouse, air will be deep … Continue reading

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The plot at the end of the lane

The plot at the end of the lane rests in a patch of everlasting summer, fat lawn spread like a counterpane, apples sun-steeped, berries rainbow-ripe. Borage and thymes sprawl lazy with bees, peonies linger in whispers. Plum, pear, cherry blossom … Continue reading

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Bargain

Three decades Dad’s volunteered at Oxfam, sorting the books, pricing them, putting them out, taking longer each year to walk the quarter mile, summer and winter, tapping his stick along streets shifting like oceans under his feet. Knocked over once … Continue reading

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This year you would have been sixty

This year you would have been sixty your friends would have thrown you a ‘do’ and you, all of 5 foot 3, would have been a little shy. Your children would have been here, your cake would be pale green, … Continue reading

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Imposter Syndrome

IMPOSTER SYNDROME. A sonnet. It greets you in the morning when you wake, at night it kills your hopes and mutilates ideas. You’re too afraid to make your mark so, sick at heart, you face the empty page, then turn … Continue reading

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HOW to WRITE POETRY.

1. Write for yourself, not others 2. Find your own truths 3. First drafts are just that (you should see mine!) 4. Work out your own best processes (morning pages/candles/notebook/tablet/glass of wine/cup of tea/ meditation/ fresh air/ log fire/long walk…). … Continue reading

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JUST ANOTHER DAY IN NONSENSE LAND

Last night, in the morning, I gandered down the wooden stairs, ate jellied eels for breakfast with my pals, the grizzly bears. Just a normal day so far but, as we slurped our dishes, I heard a floosome noise outside … Continue reading

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God’s Oath

Libby’s a teacher, Beta grows herbs, Liza’s a dreamer, while Elsa loves words, Elisa’s a neat freak, Belle is a slattern, Isabelle like chaos while Libby needs patterns, Ealasidde writes poems, recites them on walks, Beth’s passion is animals, she’d … Continue reading

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New Year

That oil painting course I meant to take, letters unwritten, library books unread, a special message for a birthday cake, scores of poems imprisoned in my head. Those posh dinners that remained uncooked the room unpapered, the marathon not run, … Continue reading

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Truth and Lies

In this age of uncertainty a lie gains traction, travels around the world in a click. We must learn how to listen, recognise honesty, know truth when we hear it spoken, for who can tell where each false statement, each … Continue reading

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