Author Archives: Marie Paule Sheard

Motorway City of the Seventies

Posted on 16 June 2026 by Marie Paule Sheard

Memories of a French 20 something, 1972 Motorway city of the Seventies. That is what it said on the envelope. So, I found out I would be off to Leeds, And I wondered how I’d manage to cope. But Yorkshire … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

The Piper’s Story

Posted on 2 October 2025 by Marie Paule Sheard

I played as they gorged on fowl and flesh. Hoped there would be a morsel left for me. When they had had their fill and were drowsy with ale and mead, I went outside to the courtyard where folks were … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

The Red Tulip

Posted on 14 June 2025 by Marie Paule Sheard

I saw her, the single tulip. Her red head vibrant amongst the green ferns at the bottom of the garden. She stands tall, slender, straight, almost surprised to find herself here. I sit and stare as she trembles slightly in … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

The Silver Birch

Posted on 14 June 2025 by Marie Paule Sheard

Framed in my April bedroom window, the silver birch sparkles with emerald beads as Spring’s renewal broadens its shadow and joyful birds satisfy their needs. Now in Summer its foliage fully grown, it flies a tall green flag on a … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

The story of Mrs Phule and Fatima Sheikh

Posted on 7 March 2023 by Marie Paule Sheard

Savitribai Phule, Fatima Sheikh Even an ordinary person in India today would probably not know those names. So you are forgiven for wondering: who are they? They were 2 phenomenal women, One Hindu, a Dalit, that is an untouchable, the … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose | Leave a comment

Ode to my last suitcase

Posted on 10 November 2020 by Marie Paule Sheard

You sit in the cupboard wondering whether retirement has truly come. Your black has faded to grey, scratched and battered, Tattooed with airport security and hotel reception stickers. You accompanied me on my many adventures To India, China and many … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

By the Ganges

Posted on 5 October 2020 by Marie Paule Sheard

The priest sits on the edge of the water His saffron robe wrapped around him against the chill of dawn. He waits for the sunrise to wash the sky with orange. He murmurs his mantra, his amber eyes fixed on … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Small Pleasures At Dawn

Posted on 30 September 2020 by Marie Paule Sheard

I like to wake up at dawn, watch as the lilac skies fade and the blackbirds feed on the lawn. With curtains widely drawn, smelling the air fresh with silent dew, I like to wake up at dawn. I may … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

AUBADE

Posted on 23 September 2020 by Marie Paule Sheard

As the curtains pale with the light of dawn, I turn to you but you are gone. The crisp cotton pillow undisturbed, no watch on the bedside table. This is the first day of the rest of my life, my … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

Supper at Emmaus (Caravaggio)

Posted on 15 April 2020 by Marie Paule Sheard

                  It is a simple scene. Three men served a supper By the innkeeper. Astonishment on two faces, Curiosity on another. Serenity on the fourth As he blesses the food on the … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment