Moving on…


A photo of the square on the early morning walk, this is an image I have lived and loved, it has been a good time.  I came here five years after chemo and it has been literally my reconstruction.

Funny how things get compartmentalised, into context?

Moving on..

One week

And all of this

Will be the past.

We start again,

And all the things

That didn’t last,

Are staying;

In before we moved

From Twickenham.

They now remain

Eternal unimproved,

The memory


No longer

Just off Richmond Lock,

To Lambeth now.

The giddy heights

That will become,

New sleepless nights,

With people we have

Not yet met,

Lost, found,


Left behind,

And gone ahead?

Exit right…


I wrote this moving poem, as we have taken receipt of boxes, that we will need to start filling if we are to be ready as hoped.

Exit right….

We’ve always been workers,
Simon and I,
Have never been
Coffee and cake;
We’ve done it ourselves,
In the by and large,
And rarely taken a break.
Embarking now on our
Ninth move in,
The packing skills,
Carton fills out;
I have to say,
At the end of the day,
As we should,
Making good throughout!
We’re planners
With manners,
And wonderfully clean,
I confess, I have stressed
The washing machine,
But we’re fixing the sofa we’re giving away,
And filling the holes
From our pictures’ display.
And all of this given
To people who,
Knocked down the asking price
We were due?
And are leaving us homeless
And put into store
For probably 16 days or more!
As we steam we dream,
Of our new, new build,
With all new appliances,
Wardrobes filled,
And say for the ninth time,
Which fixtures remain?
We’ll bleach down the bathrooms,
And never complain!
We’ve always been busy,
Simon and I,
We’ve not stopped for tea
And toast,
And although we consider,
We’ll finish some time,
It’s the doing we live for
The most!