Poems By Mary

On the train journeying south

Chose the quiet carriage 
Bliss ‘ surrounded by peace ? 

An American couple sitting opposite 

Across the aisle a sprawling figure 

Asleep ‘ surrounded by empty cans

Famous brand ‘ x 12 

Behind him a lone ‘ passenger 

engrossed in his book 

Opposite ‘ a couple with a child 

Jumping up and down ‘ blonde 

With a cheeky grin 

Sit down ‘ says father of child 

Sit down says mother ‘ to no avail 

Bliss ‘ surrounded by peace 

A voice spoke ‘  from over the pond 

Sitting opposite me ‘ a couple 

The American gentleman ‘ looked friendly 

Replied ‘ going south to visit family ‘ 

With a smile ‘ encouraged further interest 

Your accent ‘ Scottish ? 

Yes ‘ l replied ‘  born in Edinburgh ‘ now

Living in Dundee’  now with eyes wide ‘ 

Curiosity aroused ‘  knew keen to chat 

He was a Presbyterian Minister with a PhD 

A missionary on his way overseas

He & his wife stopping en route Newcastle 

Conversation flowed ‘ much enjoyed 

Newcastle ‘ as he rose from his seat 

followed by his wife and child 

He turned and offered me a book to read 

Thanked him ‘  they stepped over the 

legs of the sprawling figure on other side 

The whistle blew ‘ the movement of the train 

The sprawling legs stirred ‘ all 6’ half way 

The trolley  was on its way ‘ legs in the way

Assisted ‘ legs moved ‘ he did not stir 

Trolley trundled on ‘ to carriage beyond 

Legs moved ‘ eyes opened ‘ he looked over ‘ 

Can l join you ?  I nodded my head 

The gentleman behind him’ looks up 

No don’t !! said he ‘ he is drunk ‘ 

Smilingly said ‘ it’s okay 

The young man sat opposite 

Work on the rigs ? Yes ‘ he replied 

How did you know? 

A guess ?.  Your manner of dress ‘ 

Cans of lager x 12  On leave ‘ going home 

My wife won’t be happy l am drunk 

My daughter won’t mind .

How old is your daughter ? 

He replied ‘ she is eight years old 

When she is sixteen ‘ she might mind ? 

Are you racist ? No l replied 

My grandfather was a Scot ‘ 

My grandmother was from China 

Mum married a local .

I am from Barbados 

Then l looked and studied the young man 

He was a fit healthy and ‘ a fine looking young man 

He had inherited his grandmother’s eyes 

his father ‘s skin tone ‘ spoke with a slight 

Scottish accent . 

He looked at me ‘ waiting for a response 

Replied ‘ you are a healthy ‘ handsome man

strong ‘ and have a work ethos 

He gave me a lovely smile ‘ next stop mine

He stood up ‘ before leaving ‘ pointed to the 

Plastic rings ‘ empty cans ‘ 

I am stopping drinking for my daughter

As he turned to go ‘ l said ‘ you do it for you ‘ 

Wishing him and his wife and daughter ‘ 

A Happy life together .

Thumbs up ‘ before disappearing out of sight 

The gentleman sitting behind his now vacant seat 

He looked over ‘ may l join you ?

Prior to agreeing ‘ popped my head out 

Looked left then right ‘ roll up folks ‘ 

Peals of laughter reverberated around me 

He ambled over ‘ sat opposite me 

He had a book ‘ looked academic 

Introductions ‘ asked what he was reading ?

I am a scientist ‘ says he ‘ 

What are you studying ?  Pond Life ?

Pond Life ?  Imperiously ‘ he said . 

I am a Quantum Physicist’ 

Indeed !   said l 

Recognised his ‘ Irish accent .

Are you an Irish Catholic ?

Indeed l am.

The first gentleman who sat opposite 

A Presbyterian Minister 

Prior to your going to University ‘ 

Were you a devout Roman Catholic ?

Yes’ he replied ‘ 

During your studies ? 

Did you turn your back on your Faith ?

Yes ?  Giving me a quizzical look 

Achieving your goal ‘ A Quantum Physicist!!

Did you return to your Faith ‘ embracing it ?

Yes ?   He replied ‘ how did you figure this out ?

Enjoying the game ‘ l didn’t ‘ l replied 

Years ago ‘ read ‘ of a Quantum Physicist ‘

His experience of having gone through this 

struggle ‘  

He discovered that ‘ one question remains 

Is there an afterlife beyond ? 

The Quantum Physicist’ with eyes popping 

His question ? Remains unanswered , he said ‘

Hence returned to his Faith ‘

Convinced’ there is Life After Death !!! 

He was soon to arrive at his destination .

Asked for a contact number ‘

Declined ‘ he was a stranger on the train ‘ 

He rose to leave ‘ his parting words ‘ 

A privilege to meet you ‘ and won’t forget you ‘

Clearly neither have l forgotten our meeting .

Continued on my journey ‘ South 

Mary G. Douglas 

The Vincent polished to the nines 

1000 cc of Power ‘ 

Ready for the Open Road ‘ sharp 5am

The roar of the engine ‘ woke the neighbours

Curtains twitching ‘ what the hell!

Sunday morning ‘  the day of rest ‘ 

There he was ‘ as l dived out the door 

Was l dressed for the Highway ‘ 

Not likely ‘ dressed to the nines ‘ 

with heels ‘ that click click clicked 

The Vincent was his Pride & Joy 

My backward glance told a story 

Five pairs of curtains ‘ all a twitching 

What caught their attention ? 

The Vincent 1000cc ready for the road 

The sight of a teenager ‘ 

Dressed to the nines ‘ with heels 

Click click click ‘ as quick as quick 

On reflection ‘ no doubt ‘ shaking heads 

Disbelief ‘ consternation’ is she mad ? 

Bob ‘ 6’2 dressed in leathers ‘  boots 

Helmet on ‘ at the ready ‘ one for me 

On it went ‘ dressed for the nines 

The look of Pride ‘ the grin on his face ‘

With hands on the throttle ‘ ready to go 

Awaiting ‘ for me to settle ‘ on the back 

Dressed to the nines ‘ helmet on head 

Heels at the ready ‘ clicked nicely in place 

Had no fear ‘ a powerful mean machine 

Like sitting on an armchair ‘ over the roar ‘

A helmeted voice ‘ are you seated ? 

I opened my mouth ‘ to yell ‘ yes ‘ 

lost in the roar of this magnificent machine 

One last look up upwards ‘ gawping faces 

My body with a jerk ‘ as off it took off

Within minutes ‘ out of Gilmerton ‘ 

The road was clear ‘ Dawn breaking ‘ 

Not much money ‘ enough to buy brekkie 

then lunch ‘ tank of engine ‘ full to the brim 

What could go wrong ‘ as the roar ‘ music 

music to my ears ‘ no wind to battle against 

Our destination ‘ North Berwick ‘ had never seen 

The Vincent roared ‘ l felt safe ‘ tucked in 

As said ‘ like sitting on an armchair ‘

Wheels with tyres ‘ heavy & solid ‘ safe 

eating the miles ‘ ahead ‘ this is the life 

Soon North Berwick in sight ‘ had never seen 

What could go wrong ? Safe as houses 

Royal Artillery’ trained by experts ‘ he was’

Two years Nat. Service in Hong Kong 

Precious cargo ‘ moi ‘ l felt safe 

We made an entrance ‘ early morning 

Passers by ‘ Collecting Sunday Newspapers 

Stood and stared ‘ A mean machine !! 

Admiration mixed with amusement 

On the front a biker dressed in leathers 

Heavy duty boots to match ‘ on the pillion

Helmeted ‘ and  dressed to the nines ‘ 

The roar of the engine ‘ spluttered to a halt

With a collection growing ‘ on the pavement

Early morning passers by ‘ stood and waited 

With a click of the heel ‘ hitting the pavement 

The rest of me followed ‘ Helmet off ‘ 

There l stood ‘ dressed to the nines ‘ 

My 2” heels click click click ‘ hair flying 

Caught in the sea breezes ‘  l awaited 

Bike parked ‘ made enquiries from the group 

A local cafe ‘ as both hungry for breakfast 

With amusement ‘ one of the group ‘ 

Pointed out ‘ route to take ‘ only one open 

Thanked them ‘ and off down the street 

A few yards on ‘ Bob turned ‘ for one look 

Vincent parked ‘ passers- by no more 

Shriek’ being short sighted ‘ l followed his gaze ‘ horror on his face ‘  he took off ‘ 

Like a bat out of Hell ‘ making his way 

I ran behind ‘ as fast as l could ‘ not knowing 

shortsighted ‘ but hearing good ‘ the air was blue 

The magnificent mean machine ‘ had a ‘ 

bulging inner tube ‘ where it should not be ‘

Doing a ton ‘ down the straight ‘ as bikes did 

In them thar days ‘ shocked to the core 

Both knew ‘ we were a lucky pair ‘ 

Early Sunday Morning ‘ made our way ‘

The Harbour Master ‘ we were told ‘ 

Had a huge warehouse ‘ with tyres ‘

All shapes  and sizes’ for motor bikes plus 

Aye’ said the Harbour Master ‘ can do ‘

A tyre located’ not quite the right fit ‘ 

Money exchanged hands ‘ with the kindly 

Harbour Master / fisherman ‘ fetch your bike 

Work in here ‘ cold on the sea front 

It took hours to fit ‘ a tyre not quite a fit 

The stink in that warehouse ‘ 

Dressed to the nines ‘ with a click click click 

Found myself holding a bike upright ‘ 

The look on the Harbour Master’s face 

A picture of amusement ‘ as he took off 

Going fishing he said ‘ otherwise would help 

Hours and hours sped by ‘ air was blue’ 

Finally tyre in place ‘ what now ? said l 

Knowing he was now counting pennies 

I had little ‘ together we figured ‘ enough 

Off we went ‘ stinking of fish’ 

Bob in his leathers and heavy biking boots 

Walking by his side ‘ click click click click 

Dressed to the nines ‘ stinking of fish 

Made our way to the cafe ‘ sat ourselves down 

Looked at the menu ‘ what was cheap 

Money suffice ‘ for a plate of fish & chips 

with a mug of tea ‘ and slice of bread for two’

The cafe was empty ‘ the owner amused 

The sight of a biker dressed in leathers 

Heavy bikers boots ‘ Stinking of fish 

Me dressed to the nines ‘ stinking of fish 

The tale told ‘ no doubt ‘ would travel 

long after we were off ‘ back home ‘ as late 

What could go wrong ‘ the fault lay in his pocket 

A huge nail ‘ on the ‘ Open Road ???? 

Scuppered our day ‘ but not for us ‘ 

Filled with laughter ‘ two young people

My heart fills with joy ‘ as telling of the tale 

Memories of a trip to North Berwick 

Two people ‘ in love ‘ what could go wrong 

The unexpected ‘ and off we headed 

The roar of the engine ‘ powerful ‘ 

exhilarating’ and there l sat ‘ on the pillion 

Dressed to the nines ‘ stinking of fish ‘

On arrival home ‘ my parents ‘ held their noses 

Laughter all round ‘ as now late in the night 

The Vincent roared into action ‘ 

Work the following morning for us both ‘

The tale now told ‘ and now reflecting 

Must take a trip ‘ when summer 

North Berwick ‘ yet to be seen ‘ as all I saw 

The inside of a warehouse ‘ on the Harbour 

Stinking of fish ‘ and the irony being ‘

The cheapest meal on the menu 

The biker and his moll’ dressed to the nines 

With heels  click click click click 

Mary G. Douglas 

January 1945’ a special memory 

Aged 4yrs on the cusp ‘

Only two more sleeps ‘ 

I will wake up ‘ a five year old 

Mother emptying her shopping bag 

My eyes taking in ‘ watching carefully 

What was she doing ?

Her back was towards me ‘  as she stood 

Was she lookiing in the mirror watching me 

Watching her ‘ raising her right arm ? 

Consumed with a child ‘s natural curiosity 

Mother walked out of the kitchen ‘

My eyes drawn towards the sideboard

It looked different ‘ eyes noting an object 

High up sitting on a shelf to the right of the mirror 

It looked familiar ‘ worthy of attention 

Mother was out in the hallway ‘ voices heard 

A neighbour taking up her attention’ 

Quick’ time to investigate as knew had ages 

My eyes drawn upwards ‘ widened with joy 

It was a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate 

A treat for my birthday? 

Two sleeps was too long to wait 

Stretching my arm ‘ my fingers touching 

Pushed the bar of chocolate sideways 

Watched its descent as it fell to the floor 

My eyes drawn downwards ‘ there it lay 

Filled with excitement’ l picked it up ‘

What was wrong with having a peek 

It was my birthday treat ‘  

Laid it on the flat surface of sideboard 

Mother still in conversation out in hallway 

I slowly slid it out of its sleeve 

The thick cellophane wrapping hid it from view 

I slowly opened it out ‘ there lay bare ‘ 

A bar of chocolate ‘ a rare sight to see 

Rationing ‘ coupons saved to buy this prize 

I counted how many squares ‘  six ? eight ? 

2022 as my birthday date draws near 

A day l put desire before common sense

I broke off a square ‘ then another ‘ it was bliss

The die was cast ‘ l ate the lot ‘ 

My child‘s lack of understanding 

Raced past Mother and her neighbour 

My destination ‘ was the communal loo

On the wall were squares of newspaper 

Tied with string ‘ perfect ‘ ripped off enough 

Hid them up my jumper 

Raced past Mother and her neighbour 

Quickly shaped to fit the void 

Wrapped it neatly in the cellophane 

Slid it carefully into its’ sleeve 

I knew would have to face the music 

Two more sleeps less attractive 

The day dawned on my birthday 

The five year old child ‘ remorse set in 

The joy of eating the chocolate ‘ gone 

Placed with apprehension ‘ 

Now the day of reckoning had arrived 

Hustle bustle Mother prepared the kitchen 

The utility dining table and chairs pushed aside 

Giving room for six to eight children 

The grey wool blanket ‘ Grandad’s 

1914 WW1 ‘ the blanket he carried in his pack 

I felt shame descend upon me ‘ 

The knock at the door ‘ Mother opens the door 

In troops the neighbours ‘ children 

The Birthday party games commenced

Pass the parcel ‘ ring a’ ring of roses 

Do this do that ‘ fun for all ‘ except me 

The grey army blanket laid out on the floor 

Room for us all ‘ 

The ritual l knew from memory a year before 

The small glass of home made lemonade 

A piece of home made sponge with icing 

Topped with candles ‘ now five ‘ 

Did l enjoy ? No!  

The time drew near ‘ the bar of chocolate 

The candles lit ‘ the guests ‘ sang 

Happy birthday to you Mary . 

Mother walked towards the sideboard 

I could hear the groan ‘ swirling in my head 

Mother carefully pulled on the cellophane 

The sleeve off ‘ my eyes watched her every move

Mother carefully opened out the wrapping 

Gulp’ 

Silence as Mother turned her head 

Our eyes met ‘ she quietly said ‘ 

Mary did you eat the chocolate ? 

No ‘ stomach in a knot as repeated the question 

Silence had descended’ upon us all

I again replied with a No!

Mother spoke ‘ Mary come with me ‘

Followed Mother to the large living room 

Held the huge brass bed ‘ 

Two sleeps ‘now the day of reckoning 

Mother asked me to sit on the bed 

Mother quietly asked the question ‘ adding 

I will not be angry with you ‘ if tell the truth 

Thought l ‘ that sounds good 

Looked upwards ‘ our eyes met ‘ yes ‘said l

The look in her eyes changed ‘ she looked angry’

My upbringing was such ‘ l told the truth 

I jumped up ‘ hands on my hips ‘

The arrogance of the child ‘

I stood firm ‘ l lied ‘ now told the truth 

You said you would not be angry ‘ if l did 

Well l believed you ‘ but your eyes look angry 

My lie was a big lie ‘ but your lie and even bigger one ‘ 

Stomped off back into the kitchen 

Mother followed me ‘ another piece of cake’

Another drink of lemonade ‘ Party over

Neighbours ‘ arrived to collect their ‘ child 

No more was said ‘ 

Father arrived home ‘ no more was said 

On reflection ‘ aware l had been forgiven 

No doubt adult amusement of my stance ‘

After all ‘ l was vindicated.  

The look in her eyes ‘ l read them ‘ 

Mother was angry ‘ she was now in the wrong 

A promise is a promise . 

A lesson well remembered.  When a Mother !!

Mary G. Douglas

One for the road 

The usual Dave ?

Make it a double Jim

Two hours later ‘  time

Time folks ‘ last order 

One for the road 

Make it a double 

The usual Dave ?

Make it a double Jim ‘ and 

A bottle of whisky ‘ usual brand 

Last orders folks ‘ bar is closed 

The road is long ‘ the river beckons 

From the shoreline ‘ a sobering thought 

The bottle of whisky ‘ held fast in his grip 

Raised arm ‘ with bottle aloft ‘ 

Rage overtaking ‘ conscience stricken 

It soars upwards and onwards ‘ in an arc

Illuminated for seconds ‘  

a full moon ‘ low in the sky

Dave stood in awe ‘ as it made its descent 

A voice in the night ‘ what are you doing  ?

Dave turned into the night 

The road is long ‘ 

The door ajar ‘ there Mary ‘ stood 

A sheepish grin ‘ you know what it’s like 

I do not know what is like 

What is for dinner ‘  he dared to enquire 

A dinner ate alone ‘ is a dinner served cold 

It’s past midnight ‘ good night 

Sunday morning ‘ how about dinner out ‘

To forgive is welcomed ‘  where shall we dine ?

The food at the Local ? The table is booked 

Comfortably seated ‘ with a view of the river 

Armed with our order ‘ Dave goes to the bar 

A glass of red wine ‘ and a single of the usual 

Dave ‘ says the bartender  ‘ we no longer stock it .

You no longer stock it ? Why ?

When it ends up in the River ‘ out of favour ? 

A sobering tale ‘ the boats were out ‘ to no avail . 

Forty years on ‘ yet to be found ? 

Mary G. Douglas 

Said my goodbyes 

Boarded bus for Kings Cross

Snoozed as usual 

Bus made a jolt ‘ stops 

Wow’ opened my eyes

Euston Station ‘ why ? 

Aware of a strange silence ? 

Followed by ‘ a banging on door 

Irate faces ‘ open the door ? 

Driver sits with stony face 

Ignoring those outside 

Looked around ‘ mouths hanging open 

Faces anxious ‘ time running out 

Train leaving for Scotland from Kings X

Watch shows 20 mins spare 

Stood up ‘ made my way to front of bus 

Driver slumped over the wheel 

I banged on door ‘ shouts ‘ what is going on? 

Window wound down 

I should not be here ‘ 

Looked out front window 

Thick rope barring the way out 

Time running out ‘  train leaving soon 

Question ? Why cannot rope be removed?

In tears ‘ driver had been ordered to remain ‘

Why ? said l ? 

Tearfully ‘ l must be assessed ? 

Assessed ?  Why ? 

My destination was Kings X.  If safe to drive .

Time running out ‘ 

 Driver ‘ How far to Kings X ? 

 Five mins walk 

Whirled round to face the passengers 

Mouths open ‘ worried faces 

Turned to Driver ‘ please open the door 

Crowd outside ‘ pushing to climb aboard 

Stood firm ‘ please step aside ‘ the crowd moved back ‘ 

Turned to passengers seated 

Mouths wide open ‘ worried faces 

Announced l was leaving bus 

Making my way to Kings X

The crowd outside ‘ gave me space 

Stepped off bus ‘ pulling my case on wheels 

Speedily making my way to Kings X station 

Heard a noise behind me 

Mouths grim 

Faces set ‘ speed of the essence 

Pulling their respective case on wheels ‘ 

KingsX in view ‘ 

Amused looks ‘ left and right 

At the head of a ‘ group on a mission

Mouths grim 

Faces set ‘ speed of the essence 

Guard on duty ‘ whistle at the ready 

Our arrival expected ‘ train held back 

On we piled ‘ inward giggle ‘ 

We must look a  sight 

A crocodile of seniors’ 

Pulling respective case on wheels 

Soon seated ‘ with case above ‘ got lucky

Window seat ‘ alone ‘ with table 

Heard the whistle ‘ 

Train moved forward ‘ building speed 

Tickets please ‘ 

Building speed ‘ sigh of relief

Homeward bound 

To Bonnie Dundee ‘

Trolley arrived ‘ 

Ordered coffee and sandwich ‘

Purse in hand ‘ 

Coffee and sandwich placed on table 

Advised ‘ on the house ‘

With apologies given ‘ bus company 

Footing the bill .

Building speed ‘ 

Homeward Bound 

To Bonnie Dundee 

Mary G. Douglas

Bahrain unforgettable 

Two weeks under a hot sun 

The day of departure home

Flight uneventful ‘ much enjoyed 

The drama yet to unfold 

Victoria bus station at is busiest 

We made our way to the waiting room

Packed with travellers en route to where ?

We were thirsty ‘ cold drink for two 

Vending machine with queue of four 

A Lady with her companion ‘ lying await 

For a tasty snack’ looked starved 

Daughter sat with luggage ‘ joined the queue

Glanced at the dog’ looked hungry poor thing 

Noted his stare ‘ felt uncomfortably wary 

The stare was intense ‘ 

He lunged forward ‘ sinking its teeth 

Wish l had worn laced shoes ‘

Open toed sandals ? Not a good idea 

Sun soaked digits ‘ looked appealing 

Sank its teeth ‘ screams of pain 

Blood spurting ‘ perpetrator took to his paws’

Those sleeping on their rucksacks ‘ 

Perched on slatted seating ‘ shocked faces

With blood soaked foot ‘ ran out into crowd

Yelling for help ‘ people stood like statues 

Saw a cap bobbing about within a crowd 

Help !  I yelled . attacked by a dog 

All changed ‘ daughter in shock ‘ 

Speed of the essence 

Remedial attention to stem the flow 

Ambulance arrived ‘ stretchered off 

Daughter remaining with caring staff 

Great toe duly cleansed and stitched 

The medic ‘ advised ‘ hungry dog 

Likely thought ‘ Tanned toes were food

Office staff arrived with invoice ?

Invoice for medical attention?

I am a British citizen 

Your arrival from overseas ‘ are you visiting ?

No l am arriving ‘ l am travelling home 

Proof required before you can leave ‘

I had no proof’ belongings locked up 

Victoria Station Luggage Area 

Employed by Dundee hospital

Knew by heart ‘ official works number

Contact made ‘ confirmed my identity 

Free to go ‘   How ?  

Clutched in my hand ‘ a hastily given note

Victoria Bus Station Contact details 

Point to my story  ‘ events unfolding

A luxury continental coach arrived 

The driver stood to attention 

As l regally stepped forward ‘

He gave a salute 

I played the game ‘ to the full 

Settling myself ‘  in the luxury of front seat 

Driven to Victoria Station in style 

Coffee and juice with sandwiches 

Escorted to bus  en route to Scotland 

Sympathy ?

What is it about you Mary ‘ could only happen 

to you . 

I had to agree 

Mary G. Douglas