Mother Earth

 

Dear Reader,

This week I hope you will forgive me for writing about my new book.  My darling granddaughter, Emma, produced it for me having obtained a first class degree in Graphic Design at Brighton University.  

It is a selection of my poems that I have written over the last fifteen years, and so there will be some that you already know and some new ones too.  Maybe it would suit as a Christmas present for an aunt or grandmother and can be sent for from Amazon where it is published.  The cover of the book is above.   

I think I am of a generation who find it difficult to promote themselves but my poems do seem to resonate with some people, and are well liked by many. In danger of boasting I will just tell you that my blog has now been read by over 60,000 people from all over the world, obviously not much in comparison with celebrity blogs, but good for something very small, simply with short stories of this and that, and a  poem.

                                                                       

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From Dorothy Wordsworth, 1802, in Westmorland  December 19th.

 

'.........as mild a day as I ever remember.  We all set out to walk......There were flowers of various kinds - the top-most bell of a foxglove, geraniums, daisies, a buttercup in the water...small yellow flowers (I d not know their names) in the turf, a large bunch of strawberry blossoms.' 

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Mother Earth

is dying,

suffocating in
oceans of plastic,

gasping for breath
in the rain forests,

choking in cities
from pollution,

gagging in rivers full
of chemicals.

She is asking us to stop,
to think,
sending fires, floods
and famine,

but do we hear her?

Mother Earth
is weeping,

and so am I.

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Very best wishes, Patricia