Thank You Catherine


Want to come to Oz you asked

I’ll get your ticket for you

The day grey and overcast

I replied could this be true?


Yes yes and another yes

I’ve got air miles to use

Words unable to express

My thanks for this gift profuse.


This took place nine months ago

And life’s been lived whilst waiting

The dream took shape and did grow

Soon to be culminating.


My suitcase packed l’m ready

Tomorrow I fly away

Mind buzzing my thoughts heady

This great adventure to play.


Review: Passion in Poetry:Whispers from the Soul: Nandita ‘Manan’ Yata

“Passion in Poetry:  Whispers from the Soul,”  by Nandita ‘Manan’ Yata

An Anthology of Poetry… and apologies for a long overdue review!


I cannot remember now who met whom first on WordPress, but I do remember being struck by a number of things about Nandita’s Poetry: among them her overwhelming passion for her writing and her prolific output.  In each case I was completely blown away by her zest for life and her almost necessary and unstoppable need to pour this out and cause it to manifest in her poetry.

Nandita writes from her heart and soul with such simple clarity which disguises the depth and breadth of her exquisite life messages. She writes with wisdom, great compassion and understanding.  To dip into Nandita’s “Passion in Poetry: Whispers from the Soul,” is to open the lid on a treasure chest and see inside a whole myriad of literary jewels, great and small, simple and profound.  Divided into 3 sections, Life, Longings and Love, it is no accident that Love is by far the biggest!

In Life, Nandita writes: “This is the circle we call living and dying

Which my immortal soul will go on denying

My body will go back to the earth, water and fire

But my soul will linger in the wind, sky and higher…”


In Longings, she writes:”I crave to be the first golden rays of the sun

Streaming in through the gaps in your curtains

The soft light that caresses your face, mindful of the

dreams still hung in your lashes.”


In Love, she writes:        “I’m thirsty

For a thousand seas

That you could cascade on me

My expectations

Of endless moments

Spent in blissful solitude

Wrapped in your finger”


This book is a pleasure and a joy to dip into.  It takes you on a journey of highs and lows, of ecstasy and despair in which Nandita uncovers her innermost being and shares with you in poignant pen and craftsmanship, her life experiences.  In her words are echoed our own lives.  Nandita has also been and continues to be a great inspiration for my own writing and for that and her continuing support, I thank her from the bottom of my heart.


Passion in Poetry: Whispers from the Soul

by Nandita ‘Manan’ Yata


is available for purchase from Amazon!

A message to folk who normally follow my Blog and my writing…having written this review for my talented friend, poetess and writer, Nandita, I will shortly resurrect by Blog as I have much to share after the long and busy Summer months.

I hope this finds you all well…


The joy of camping?

Reaching for my enamel mug of cold coffee,

I spy the corpses of midges kamikaze.

Only a few succumb to death by drowning,

the other thousand in tent seams are hiding.


My air bed deflated, I can feel the hard earth,

tent pitched on an incline, of sleep there is a dearth.

Feet higher than my head, I’ve slipped right down the bed

so I try reversing all the bedding instead.


I am woken at four by a loud dawn chorus,

disgruntled, exhausted, my headache enormous.

I wake with my right arm and leg frozen with cold.

Five degrees last night!  For this camping lark too old.


My knees stiff and achy from cooking on the floor,

grains of sand in all our food walked in from the shore.

Local stinging beasties have decided to meet

in our tent, spreading the word our blood is so sweet!


Shouldn’t have had the wine, need to “spend a penny.”

Raining outside, I can find only one wellie.

And just when I’m settling into much needed peace,

the kids next door start fighting.  How I wish they would cease!


And though you might wonder why do this and complain?

To escape this world’s clamour, I’d do it ALL… again!


To ALL my WP Friends:

It is rather “sheepishly” that I post this poem today…having been off the WP radar now for a number of weeks.  At this time of year when everything is growing so quickly, life takes on a rather frenzied and overly full flavour and I become conscious that there are never enough hours in the day to achieve and fulfill all that I would hope for.  We are now at the height of the gardening season so busy, busy, busy.  I also have been engaged in much organ playing and away camping…twice!  This second poem on camping, as opposed to the more aesthetic, previous one, is my end of year humorous offering to the local Writers’ Group!  The theme was to write something funny!  Also, I just wanted to say, I AM still here, not disappeared, bear with me, I will catch up with your recent blogs as and when I am able.  In the meantime, I wish you all happy and sunny Summer days!!  🙂



Camping An Camas Darach

In the east a golden dawn sun rises,

warm and welcoming over Camusdarach,

earth’s once blackened face she now baptizes,

rays bathing creation as night turns his back.


Each droplet of dew on grass and on leaf,

lights up and shimmers as upon it you smile,

to man and to beast bringing joyous relief,

wild flowers in meadow with grace you beguile.


Nodding spring bluebells their heads bowed in prayer,

primroses so pale and so delicate stare

upon your fiery face.  Petals so fair

and so fine, with such flair none can compare.


Willows weeping, their long branches sweeping

the burn in the ditch as in sunlight it runs,

as the wild bramble, tangled and creeping,

in freedom delighting, all constraint it shuns.


Hawthorns, lichen coated, twisted and gnarled,

stand guard and protect us from ill and from harm,

as two cuckoos coo, their duet to the world,

singing Spring is sprung and seductive her charm.


White Atlantic breakers they curl and they roll,

lacy froth edging the white sands of Morar,

iconic Eigg and Rhum, they speak to my soul,

Silhouetted and stark, they watch from afar.


The midges at twilight they gather en masse,

frenzied and gamboling in the fading sun,

swirling and twirling over field and grass,

one last final play before this day is done.


Moon and stars now our shining companions,

weary world retreating to pause and to rest,

for a short while now the sun us abandons,

night shows his face, with this day we were blessed.


An camas darach: Gaelic for Camusdarach meaning Oak Bay.

Sands of Morar: name given for the stretch of white sands found above and below Mallaig on the west coast of Scotland.

Eigg and Rhum: Islands just off the coast between Arisaig and Mallaig.

Burn: Scottish word for stream.

Update with an apology…

I just wanted to say a quick hello to all my WP friends and to reassure you that I am still here, I have NOT disappeared and that my thoughts are very much with you all…

John and I have been incredibly busy gardening for other folk now that the weather has improved.  It’s been a glorious week and we are ahead with customers’ gardens etc.  We have also been sewing and planting lots of assorted vegetables and herbs for ourselves too.  At this time of year I sort of immerse myself completely in the outdoors and just getting my hands dirty with soil after the long drawn out Winter gives me much pleasure and satisfaction.  It is wonderful to feel the sun on your skin after the cold and damp of the previous 5 months.

What I am trying to say in a long drawn out way is that I have found it difficult to dip into WP these last couple of weeks.  Please accept my apologies and I will try and catch up, pick up the various threads of poems and posts as soon as I am able to do so!  The last thing I want to appear to be is rude…

Also a break for us is long overdue, so John and I are taking the tent and dog and heading up to a gorgeous camp site that we have stayed at before near Mallaig called Camusdarach, on the West coast of Scotland, in the Highland Region.  There are miles and miles of white sandy beaches, fabulous sunsets and views across to the islands of Eigg and Rhum.  3 nights away will do us both the world of good and hopefully come back refreshed and recharged…and inspired to write more Poetry and Paint… Watch this space!  Hopefully I will have much to share with you all when I get back.  Unfortunately we cannot be away for longer because of our gardening commitments but even these few days will be like a breath of fresh air and the scenery is just magnificent.  😊



The Islands of Eigg and Rhum from Camusdarach beach.

Photograph courtesy of Google Images.

Oh what embarrassment…

Notes came home fast and furious

that first term.  I was curious

what news this latest one contained?

This time I couldn’t stay restrained.

I never expected this one

and, “Who said Parenting was fun?”


This note was new territory

and in retelling this story

I marvel my marbles I’ve kept!

Having not slept, the tears I wept

for years, relentlessly working,

this commitment not for shirking,

I’d do it all gladly again.

Welcome the mundane with the pain.


The note spoke of Pediculosis.

Without fail, a home diagnosis

was needed to ascertain the facts.

I set about looking for egg sacks.

Having traced the adults, made contact,

waged war, those vampires to extract.

Oh bring back our friend “Nitty Nora,”

this time around I’d not ignore her.


Oh what embarrassment that one note brought!

Fraught and distraught as some solace I sought,

priding myself on clean kids and clean house,

not dirty enough to rear a head-louse.

Six children later and yes, much wiser,

‘tween rich and poor, a great equalizer!


At Lanark Writers’ group last week we were set the homework to write a piece of writing on the topic “Embarrassment.” This is my offering for tonight!



Pediculosis : Infestation of lice on the human body.

“Nitty Nora  the flea explorer,” was a song we used to chant when queuing up to have our hair checked for head lice by the school nurse in Primary school!


One day…

We live our lives, a necklace of magical days,

as seamlessly one day threads on from another.

From dawn to dusk a cosmic abacus ablaze,

beads of love and hate, colliding with each other,

as our earth, sublime blue-green shimmering opal,

orbits the sun, whilst we each enact the drama

we are destined to perform, silent or vocal,

with dove or arrow, in the shadow of Rama.


One day can gift heights so golden with giddiness

as we hear the celestial clarion call,

or sink us to our knees fainting with dizziness,

empty and numb as into an abyss we fall.

From sunrise to sunset, one day is the measure

for choices to be made, be they pleasure or pain.

If we waken we know we have one day to treasure,

cast aside judgement and let peace prevail again.


We have one day. We have the cyclical seasons,

of those there is absolutely not any doubt

and when man analyses, thinks and he reasons,

the capture of Time he can never bring about.

For Time is her own mistress, she pulls her own strings,

not by Julian or Gregorian to live,

but with her own agenda a freedom she brings,

whilst man every four years an extra day must give.


And before you leap to a fitting conclusion,

One day is all we have, the rest…is illusion!




Just to put you all in the picture again, this was another challenge set by the Lanark Writers’ Group, last week…they give weekly assignments/ challenges for you to take away and work on and then bring back the following week.  Gulp!  They also give you little challenges on the spot… i. e. write something on a set title or a set style of poem, etc., within the next 10 minutes or so…Gulp!  This will certainly stir up all those hibernating grey cells…methinks a bit of an electric shock!!!!  It will be interesting however to have the physical interaction when speaking/ reading poetry.  A whole new dimension…different.  Not better, not worse, just DIFFERENT and interesting, as happens when group dynamics come into play too.  

Julian and Gregorian refer to the Calendars of those names.  Today all countries which formerly used the Julian Calendar, now use the Gregorian.  There was a major discrepancy in the Julian calendar, hence the introduction of the Gregorian in 1582. But even the latter does not measure Time accurately and an extra day has to be added every leap year to keep the calendar year synchronized with the seasonal or astronomical year.