The Battle

A few months ago, one of my healthy friends suddenly became quite sick with an as-yet-undiagnosed illness.

I wanted to tell her why it was so crucial that she rest. I wanted to explain that her body was under attack, and that nothing was more important than helping it to win the fight. But I didn’t have the words.

This poem spilled out of that place.

The Battle

Tough, sturdy back
Broad, muscular chest
Long, powerful legs

The horse is strong

But wolves are circling Continue reading “The Battle”


Trigger warning: this post discusses depression and suicide.

Before you read this poem, I want you to know that it describes the way I felt for the first week after my hysterectomy surgery (more about that surgery here, and the recovery here, here and here). My emotions were affected by the physical stress of the surgery, the fluctuations it caused in my hormones, and the various medications they gave me. Although I wasn’t suicidal, I still felt depressed and worthless, I hated myself, and I was terrified that this was ‘the new me’. (I was open with my family about how I was feeling, and they were incredibly supportive of me). Thankfully, as
 I recovered physically, I also recovered mentally, and the darkness melted away.  Continue reading “Darkness”

You. Are. Beautiful.

I promise my blog isn’t going to turn into a poetry corner! I actually hardly ever write poetry. Waterfall just kind of burst out when everything in my life felt totally overwhelming, and I was exhausted, and couldn’t stop the tears.

But today, I have something important to tell one of the gorgeous young women in my life.

Earlier this week, she shared with me something some ‘friends’ had said about her looks. I wanted her to tell her that they were wrong. I wanted to tell her why they were wrong. But at the time, my brain was mush. Trying to find the words on the spot was like wading through quicksand…I wasn’t eloquent.

In the days afterwards, this poem slowly took shape, as I fought to express myself clearly. It was important to me that those ‘friends’ didn’t get to have the last say: that their lies weren’t the final impression on my young friend’s self esteem.

So I wrote.
And wrote.
Took a tiny piece of my heart out, and shaped it into words on paper.
I hope it will be enough.

*     *    *

Continue reading “You. Are. Beautiful.”


A single dark cloud
Rolls across the sky
But swiftly it grows
Into a terrible storm

The dam quickly fills
Higher and higher
The water rises

Gentle ripples
Become giant waves
Pounding against the wall

The pressure builds
The barrier trembles
The wall begins to crack

A single damp tear
Rolls down her face
But swiftly it grows
Into a waterfall


xx S.