Poems By Mary

The winds of change ‘ the stealth of thunder 

We arrive in this world ‘ with a squall’

No compass ‘ to guide us ‘ the hand of fate 

controls our estimated time of arrival ‘

On the high seas ‘ or the calm of the harbour 

Whatever the craft ‘ on land or sea ‘ time cares not 

The journey we all embark on ‘ is uncharted. 

The linear lines mapped out ‘ 

The litmus paper when dipped ‘ creating an event ‘

 the test of this seen ‘indicators of underlying attitudes ‘ are not under our control ‘ 

we dip our toe in the water ‘ a leap of faith into the unknown’

Part of the story ‘ unfolding ‘ the story of our life 

music to our ears ‘ no harmony ‘ no beat of the drum ‘ or proclamation from the ramparts to herald our arrival ‘ on the sea of life ‘

The world is a stage ‘ we all’ players ‘ making our entrance with a squall ‘ or without drama 

the script is not as directed ‘ 

we tow all our baggage ‘ collected over years 

on our journey through life’

we are the architects ‘ given a framework to work from ‘ an apprenticeship with tools of the trade ‘ 

The path of Life ‘ for us all ‘ not straight ‘ with its twists and turns ‘ 

when starting a race ‘ no end in sight 

It is a race ‘ with pit stops ‘ a recharging of batteries ‘ 

On reflection ‘ on reaching a stage ‘ where one can look back ‘ 

There is no point ‘ to wish our route ‘ had less obstacles ‘ if only ‘ l had taken the road to the left ‘ the road to the right ‘ not been curious of a path unknown ‘

If we journey only the safe ‘ planned route ‘

life would not open up horizons ‘ 

adding to our journey ‘ new beginnings ‘ new adventures ‘ 

If we stop ‘ and look back with regret’ it can be the difference ‘ to progress or to stand still ‘ 

learning the skills of how to navigate our ship on the high seas of life ‘

the map maker ‘ has a plan ‘ with a beginning and an end in sight’

The footballer ‘ skilled with a goal in mind ‘

to kick the football ‘ in the net ‘ 

The golfer ‘ with his bag of irons ‘ sets the ball on the tee ‘ with a course ahead ‘ he takes a measured swipe ‘ 

the rough and the smooth ‘ not all he imagined 

when having to take it on stride

The snooker player ‘ with a cue ‘ a keen eye ‘ 

does the roll of the ball ‘ land in the net of choice ?

If all were plain sailing for the skipper of his craft ‘ no joy of achieving in that 

We would all be left standing like pillars of salt ‘ on the shores of life ‘ washed away ‘ ending up like grains of sand? or pebbles on the beach ‘

amongst the pebbles are the gems ‘ 

The gems of life ‘ knowledge is power ‘ 

The apprenticeship of life ‘ does not come with guarantees ‘

the building bricks ‘ if set to a pattern ‘ 

we are the architects’ with a goal in mind 

the shock ‘ the dismay ‘ if create an error ‘ the study of how to bargain ‘ can this be fixed ?

in denial ‘ with frustration having to accept ‘ 

A Need ‘ to go back the drawing board ‘ and start again from scratch ?

On our journey through life ‘ when meeting an obstacle ‘ blocking progress ? 

Not all problems ‘ can be fixed with a solution ?

without taking stock ‘the  art is in taking a left or a right’

the road ahead ‘ if leading to nowhere’ 

a journey to the left or right ‘ with a degree of calculation’ by using no compass to guide ‘

can take us to a point of no return ‘ moving onwards and upwards ‘ 

standing high ‘ looking down the road taken ‘

from a height ‘ steps on the ladder of life ‘

the trick is ‘ not to step off the bottom rung ‘ but to find a way back up ‘ taking a rest ‘ 

surveying where ‘ heading ‘ with the resolve ‘ not to slip one’s foot backwards’ 

Life is a journey ‘ with its ups and downs ‘

Taking stock of one’s position on that ladder ‘ 

there is only one decision ‘ 

to make the effort ‘ of putting one’s foot on the step above ‘ 

one step at a time ‘ until reaching  the top’

Life is a series of ladders ‘ big and small ‘ 

if making for the roof ‘ when building one’s career ‘ 

To make sure  the ladder is steady ‘ for that climb’

Taking stock of the goal in sight ‘ not all ladders are steady and true ‘ the winds of change ‘ can create a wobble ‘ if one’s ladder climbing ‘ if not sturdy and not stood on a flat surface ‘ with 

the ladder resting ‘ on a wall of potential’ for success to be achieved’ 

The choice of ladder ‘ steady and true ‘making the difference between success and failure ‘

On our journey of life.

Mary G. Douglas 

Childhood is now a memory ‘ yet my

heart and mind holds dear 

Aged three ‘ the war years ‘ knowing without understanding 

Why did my dad don an army uniform ?

It changed the atmosphere’ from warmth to chill 

Mother standing by ‘ looking anxious ‘

Aged three ‘ felt the connection 

Felt sad ‘ confused’ the fear ‘ was in the eyes ‘

Anxiety ‘ the air in the kitchen ‘ hung heavy 

Father’s mood ‘ tense ‘ yet an air of excitement 

On reflection ‘ he was going out into the dark 

of night ‘ a war was on ‘ blackout 

his demeanour then ‘ now understood ,

He was one of the ‘ Home Guard ‘ 

Edinburgh safe ‘ yet one’s luck could run out ‘

Another on the same side ‘ lose their nerve ‘

The blackout ‘ in itself was an enemy 

In the modern world ‘ twentieth century ‘ 

there is more to fear ‘ leaving the comfort of one’s home ‘ after dark ‘ with street lamps shedding a pool of light ‘ throwing into relief 

shadows ‘ changing the atmosphere of a street in daytime ‘ busy with traffic and passers’ by 

Light and shade ‘ intermittent’ with street lamps set apart ‘ adding to the fear of someone lurking in a doorway ‘ 

waiting for the unsuspecting solitary passer by 

On reflection’ when aged three ‘ out there in the blackout ‘ safer then ‘ 

the city streets in a modern world ‘ have lurking in the shadows ‘ those who are idling

with only one thought ‘ your wallet or your watch ‘ 

what has changed?  the human race ‘ are we less ‘ rather than more 

inhumanity? the more we have ‘ for some ‘ the more desired 

when working on night duty ‘ there was a patient ‘ due for discharge from hospital in the morning ‘ 

He was up and prepared for discharge at noon 

He told me of his plans ‘ to steal from a shop and get nicked by the cops ‘ 

Why ?  with shock ‘ when replied ‘ l am homeless ‘ and not prepared to sleep rough ‘

Steal an item from a shop ‘ gives me a bed for the night’ 

It won’t be so comfortable as the one l  am sleeping in ‘ 

It will be hard ‘ in a cell with the door locked ‘

and in the morning will get a breakfast ‘

A social worker will then arrange to set me up with bed and board ‘ until find me permanent accommodation 

Fast forward to the present day ‘ the modern world is going backwards ‘ one has only to walk the city streets ‘ those sitting begging for help ‘ a placard ‘ with a need for money to pay for a bed in a hostel ‘ 

Yet placards in windows ‘ of fast food outlets ‘ restaurants’ cafes big and small ‘ 

Vacancies ‘ difficulty obtaining staff ‘ 

This begs the question’ where has it gone wrong ‘ 

Life is not fair ‘ said l ‘ was  the reply from Mother ‘ when asked to carry out a small task ‘ it is not ‘ said Mother ‘ meantime carry on with the task in hand ‘

On reflection a work ethos ‘ was part of childhood’ 

Simple tasks ‘ polishing shoes ‘ tidying away toys ‘ books ‘

Have we now given the child of today ‘ an inbred fixation ‘ that life owes us a living ‘ without giving anything in return.

The world as it turns on its axis ‘ our own world is changing ‘ it is not cushioned from reality ‘

our next door neighbours ‘ are no longer next door ‘ or in the next village or city 

Our neighbours are those who live at home and abroad ‘  no longer are we cushioned from the hardships of others ‘ 

Technology has opened up the world’ communication at the touch of a key ‘ the key to understanding’ Mother was correct ‘ Life is not fair ‘ 

The wisdom of the parent ‘ of giving the child ‘

Small tasks to complete ‘ giving the child a work ethos ‘

An apprenticeship for adulthood ‘ is essential ‘as we are no longer living in a community ‘ of next door neighbours ‘ in cities and villages ‘ 

We are globally connected via technology’ with communities’ whose lives are wrought with warring factions ‘ droughts ‘ intensity of heat ‘ with the opposing problem of ice cold conditions ‘

The cry of my childhood ‘ Life is not fair ‘ winging over the decades ‘ ringing in my ear ‘ 

Mother’s reply loaded ‘ with the knowledge of how unfair life is ‘ for many at home and abroad .

Mary G. Latimer 

Truth of the matter ‘ can create joy ‘ 

Truth of the matter ‘ can be a paradox 

There are events in life ‘ best left to slumber ‘

never to surface ‘ 

as in the oceans deep ‘ there lurks the heartbeat of life ‘ 

Not seen or heard ‘ when cruising ‘

on the calm of the seas ‘ the sea of life ‘

The diver ‘ poised on the deck ‘ his oxygen tanks strapped to his back ‘ flippers to emulate the tail of a fin ‘ for balance and steerage ‘ he takes the plunge ‘ into the inky darkness ‘ 

a torch held ‘ to light the way ‘ 
the deeper one dives ‘ searching the bed of the ocean ‘ for answers to the mysteries of life 

Within the mind and heart of us all ‘ a yearning 

for the journey through life ‘

to be a cruise ‘ not a journey on a craft ‘ battling the elements of surprise’

the winds of change ‘ a gentle whisper ‘ in one’s ears ‘ 

cruising the surface of calm water ‘ within a bay’ the shoreline in sight ‘ 

When is a truth ‘ a blight on the horizon ? 

When a lie is kinder ‘ than the brutality of truth 

The toddler exploring ‘ opening cupboards ‘ obliged to put all ‘ objects of danger ‘ on a high shelf ‘ inside a cupboard 

The age of reason ‘ our destiny ‘ can be cruel ‘ can be kind ‘ 

out of sight ‘ out of mind ‘ hurting no one ‘ but oneself ‘ 

We bury our pain and fears ‘ behind the smile ‘ 

Is this our future ‘ as we journey on ‘ the ups and downs ‘ the unknown ‘ 

The rights and wrongs ‘ our expectations ‘

I know how you feel ‘ the loss and pain ‘ of a 

loved one ‘ 

with one screaming inside ‘ no you don’t know how l feel ‘ 

a solitary sense of loss’ not transferable‘ 

the humility of understanding ‘ a self - awareness ‘ 

when placed in a similar deprivation of loss ‘

empathy is transient ‘ 

it’s meaning can be lost ‘ if caught in the grip ‘ 

The bank card popped into the slot ‘ only to spit out a message ‘ no funds 

The visit to the GP ‘ with a complaint’ 

Majority of outcomes ‘ an antibiotic will do the trick 

A lottery ticket ‘ from zero funds to whatever the want ‘ money cannot buy ‘the following ‘ 

Peace of mind ‘  well-being of the physical ‘ 

far more important ‘ measure of how we can cope with the hurdle ahead.

A random comment ‘ thrown into the arena ‘

If questioned ? would the Truth of the Matter be revealed ? 

On reflection’ would a truthful answer ‘ be supplied ? or replaced with a Lie ‘ 

Fact of the Matter ‘ we all use Lies ‘ 

to cover a pain ‘ silent within 

tears not visible to the eyes of others ‘

A sharing of this ‘ needs the ‘ right place and the right time ‘ 

If there is a way forward ‘ to right a wrong ‘

to ease  a pain ‘ not visible to others ‘ 

Time determines the value of when ? 

Takes the skill of knowing ‘ the time and place ‘

A crystal ball ‘ is not the answer ‘ 

A sense of timing ‘ the value of knowing ‘ 

An opportunity of the ‘ narrow point ‘ of the where ‘ when ‘ and the how ‘ of the what ? 

That is the paradox of life ‘ 

Mary G. Douglas 

A book read ‘ is a journey ‘ into the mind of another ‘ 

the written word ‘ a revelation ‘ on how the mind of another is thinking ‘

Opening up ‘ a path not travelled ‘ a learning ‘ an awakening ‘ 

skill in language ‘ leading to a desire to read chapter after chapter 

memories of childhood ‘ the comics depicting 

characters ‘ 

who live within the heart forever ‘ 

decades later ‘ delighting children of a generation of tender years  ‘ familiar with technology’

Yet filled with delight ‘ when given a comic of characters ‘ 

whose antics were delighting children of an era 

In the forties and fifties ‘ the comics of that era 

delighting children’ on reaching adulthood ‘

delighting in turn the next generation’

decades come and go ‘ noting those comics are still in circulation’

giving delight to the children in a world of technology’

The simple world of the comic and its characters ‘ etched in the mind forever ‘

Reaching senior years ‘ the sight of those favourites ‘ bring a smile ‘ and touches the heart and soul ‘ 

the years rolling backwards’ to one’s own childhood 

the elderly sitting in care homes ‘ or in a hospital ward ‘ 

given a comic to read ‘ from their childhood’

bringing a smile ‘ and mentally journeying back in time ‘ 

to an era of their respective lives ‘ 

when life was simple ‘ when a comic bought was a treat in itself ‘ 

the antics of the characters ‘ a joy to behold 

the written word ‘ not often understood 

read by an adult ‘ squeals of laughter ‘

having an awareness ‘ the antics of the characters ‘ would not be permitted in the real world ‘ 

despite there now being a plethora of new 

kids on the block ‘ comic books characters ‘

sophisticated’ and wonder if the modern comic book character ‘ 

will have the longevity ‘ of the comic book characters of the forties and fifties ‘ 

books of my childhood ‘ continue to be read ‘ 

first editions bought by collectors ‘

doubt opened ‘ and read to children ‘ 

now we have books on audio ‘ read to children 

by those who have the skill to bring characters to life ‘ 

The wonderful world of the written word ‘

beginning its journey in the mind of the author ‘

centuries of knowledge ‘ of lives lived ‘ leaving 

behind’ books now lining the shelves of libraries ‘

Archived for posterity ‘ using modern technology ‘

the child of today ‘ sitting in its buggy on the bus ‘ if becomes fretful ‘ often handed a mobile phone ‘ with cartoon characters ‘

the child not yet walking and talking ‘

having the dexterity of finger and thumb 

sit in their buggy ‘ tears of boredom’ or the need of a hug ‘ are quickly erased ‘ when given a mobile phone ‘ silently trawling with finger and thumb ‘ 

the thought of the future ‘ springs to mind ‘

will those children of this modern world ‘

have the learning and reasoning skill required ‘

to navigate the real world ‘ 

a world of self ‘ having the understanding of the art of communication ‘ 

sharing ideas ‘ being creative ‘ innovative ‘

as now given a gift ‘ with “ virtual reality “ taking them on a journey ‘ one that is impossible ‘ by taking a walk in a park ‘ or by climbing a hill ‘ and standing on the crest ‘ admiring the view on the horizon’ 

the rolling hills ‘ dipping downwards ‘ the valleys  ‘ with the deer on the move ‘ the odd rabbit or hare hopping off ‘ when aware of humans in their sight ‘ 

the birds flying high ‘ a joy to observe ‘ 

on looking closely ‘ the ants on the March ‘ 

beetles ‘ snails drawing in their antenna ‘ with the protection of their shells ‘ 

Foliage in abundance’ a myriad of colour ‘ 

there are those who tramp the hills and the valleys ‘ with their children in tow ‘

with others ‘ happy to discover ‘ the wonders of the virtual world ‘ through a headset ‘ in the comfort of their bedroom ‘ 

silently ‘ and disconnected from the real world ‘ outside their front door ‘ 

the footsteps of the toddler to adulthood ‘ with little knowledge of the great strides to be 

taken ‘ 

to prepare them for navigating the real world ‘ far removed from the virtual world ‘ through their introduction to technology ‘ for many who are given a mobile phone by an adult ‘

often seen on public transport ‘ with mobile in one hand ‘ idly trawling with speed ‘ of the finger or thumb ‘ of the other ‘ and disconnected from the child of tender years ‘ sitting in a buggy ‘ who is kept amused ‘ 

with a mobile set ‘ with a cartoon movie ‘ to keep them happy ‘ eyes down ‘ with the peripheral vision ‘ unaware of their surroundings’ of people and the outside world whizzing past ‘ 

could be sunny ‘ raining ‘ pavements busy with passers - by ‘ shops with windows ‘ displaying their wares ‘ 

The observer sitting ‘ with memories of childhood ‘ their own and the world of their children when young ‘ 

Are we now ‘ with a generation ‘ lacking an imagination ‘ of how to introduce their own children ‘ to the world outside ‘ the bus or the tram ‘ or from the window of the train ‘ the world outside ‘ to inflame their imagination of the world outside ‘ the confine of the virtual world of their own childhood ‘ with eyes down ‘ silent ‘ no social interaction stunting their mental growth ‘ when on excursions ‘ 

In their senior years ‘ no memory of the joy ‘ 

taking in the sights and scenery outside the bus ‘tram ‘ or train ‘ filling the heart and mind of the toddler ‘ an excitement of a world to be explored ‘ when older ‘ 

The child of today ‘ the whizz kids of tomorrow ‘ whose skill of the understanding and knowledge ‘ of technology’ to perfection ‘

Their senior years ‘ many without the joy of memories of when a toddler ‘ 

staring out the window of a bus ‘ tram or train ‘

Mary G. Douglas 

A door can be a Friend or Foe 

It is a barrier ‘ or a protector ‘ 

Made of steel ‘ cold and impersonal 

With a lock sturdy and true. ‘ a key in the lock ?

If not on the right side of the law’

The key in the lock ‘ will be on the other side 

or hanging from the belt of a warden on patrol 

A door that is built of solid wood ‘ has a warmth to the touch ‘ with a lock on the door ‘

a key in the lock ‘ with the right to turn ‘ 

a protector ‘ against the elements’ 

the wind and the rain ‘ snow and ice ‘ 

A keeper of one ‘ within the haven of one’s home 

with the right to open or shut ‘ to welcome guests ‘ 

A fire in the grate ‘ sitting around the fire with friends 

Enjoying conversation ‘ a glass or two’ gone are those days ‘ 

Sitting with mother ‘ on Christmas Eve ‘ around a fire ‘ with the coals hot ‘ with flames dancing 

leaping high ‘ red ‘ with yellow ‘ upwards and onwards 

The dark interior of the chimney ‘ taking our letters to Santa ‘ 

With a reassurance from Mother ‘ that on 

Christmas morning ‘ Santa would deliver to the letter ‘ all that was wished for 

The letter written ‘ in careful handwriting’  or so it was thought ‘ 

Written with a polite request ‘ Dear Santa and a list of simple toys ‘ a doll ‘ a pram ‘ a jigsaw ‘ a book ‘ 

Gone are those days ‘ now one’s wants for Christmas ‘ tapped out on a mobile ‘ and within seconds ‘ arrive with the precise instructions ‘

the latest up market gizmo ‘ costing an arm or a leg ‘

on order eight months in advance ‘ 

The key of the door ‘ aged 21 ‘ a symbol of an age ‘ one had reached the ‘ Age of Reason ‘ and accepting ‘ responsibility for one’s expectation of a certificate’ apprenticeship over ‘ cabinet maker ‘ engineer ‘ office manager ‘ no longer the junior ‘ 

Gone are those days ‘ the key of the door ‘ now an electronic device ‘ that commands the door to open or shut ‘ 

The modern world is now more complex ‘ a home is where the hearth is ‘ from the simple pleasure of the iron stove ‘ behind its door the wood burning bright ‘ the chimney enclosed ‘

To be revered and welcomed ‘ as mistress of all ‘ up high on the bank ‘ with a view of the fields ‘ a fence between thee and those fore legged neighbours ‘ who chew the cud ‘ on the other side of a fence ‘ 

It may be a humble abode ‘ but it’s yours ‘ and once the door fixed ‘ the elements outside’ can be gentle or raging ‘ 

It is your castle ‘ and your protection  ‘ giving you warmth from the wood burner ‘ and when the day turns into the night ‘ the warmth of a comfortable bed ‘ with sleep giving rest ‘ 

Today is the day ‘ the door will be fixed ‘

keeping out the elements ‘ the wind and the rain ‘ 

A door that separates’ a demarcation line ‘

Your home is your castle ‘ no matter if a caravan ‘ high on the hill ‘

One can only sit on one chair ‘ or sleep on one bed ‘ 

with heat from a wood burning stove ‘ 

with the privacy ‘ and electronics ‘ to connect to the outside world ‘ at home and abroad ‘ 

The world is your oyster ‘ in your abode ‘ 

The key of the door ‘ to one’s desires of a future ‘ one’s ambitions ‘ for the freedom to choose ‘ 

is wrapped up in electronics ‘ within the confines of one’s abode 

meantime the door in question of one’s own freedoms ‘ 

A roof over one’s head ‘ food in one’s reach and all that is needed for warmth in one’s abode ‘ 

Outside a car ‘ that gives you the freedom of the road ‘

Not bowed down ‘ with a mortgage ‘ 

Once your door is fixed ‘ secure from the elements outside ‘ wood burning in the stove ‘ giving warmth ‘ 

The simple needs met for cooking and storing one’s food ‘ kept safe ‘ a wee fridge and a freezer ‘ water on tap ‘ 

The world outside ‘ with electronics at one ‘s finger tips’ 

The world is your oyster ‘ within a humble caravan ‘ as not isolated ‘as one can still dream’ plan create ‘ all that is desired at one’s finger tips ‘

The key of the door ‘ to opening up one’s horizons ‘ is at the command of one’s finger tips ‘ the key of the door ‘ the electronics ‘

the door blocking out the cold and the damp ‘

Hope this is fixed ‘ and then can move on ‘ the key of the door ‘ is the electronics’ the connection between ‘ the warmth of one’s castle ‘ with one chair to sit on and a bed for slumber at the end of a busy day ‘

A ode to an understanding ‘ you have all you need ‘ at the end of your fingertips’ for realising one’s ambitions ‘ 

Once you have that crumbling mess ‘ sorted to satisfaction’ 

The world is your oyster ‘ at the end of your fingertips.

Meantime the warmth ‘ of a one burnet stove and food kept safe ‘ the cupboards and shelves for one’s belongings 

The day will come ‘ when looking back ‘ to the comforts ‘ at your finger tips ‘ and the key to the world outside ‘ at the end of your fingertips ‘ pouring forth ‘ the ideas ‘ the creativity of thought ‘ and within the humble beginnings ‘ keeping you safe and warm ‘ you have the key of the door to a world beyond ‘ with electronics and at the end of your fingertips ‘

The world is your oyster ‘ as the saying goes.

Mary G. Douglas 

The city centre throbbed and pulsated with the beat of passers by ‘ 

of all ages and backgrounds 

making their way to destinations only known

to themselves ‘ 

those who randomly wander ‘ in unfamiliar surroundings ‘ without a map ‘ 

obliged to ask passing strangers.

However in the social climate ‘ in the world we now live in ‘ increasingly difficult to have it acknowledged you exist ‘ by those who walk about with cords dangling from their ears ‘

attached to i phones clutched in their hand ‘. 

or in a pocket ‘ in jacket or jeans ‘ 

silently making a path ‘ eyes down ‘ for others approaching’ to divide ‘ they conquer ‘ not lifting their head ‘ to make eye contact ‘ as did in days gone by ‘ likened to a coach and horses ‘ when those in the way ‘ were at risk of being trampled 

If one stumbles on a broken slab ‘ or on the road with potholes ‘ 

with a howl of pain ‘ when falling 

lying in a heap ‘ attempting to scramble to one’s feet ‘

if they are walking  away from you ‘ wrapped up in a wall of silence ‘ to the outside world ‘

as the only sound they are aware of ‘ 

is the music emanating from the ear pieces ‘

embedded in their ears 

Globally it would appear ‘ to a world within a world is the Future ?

Mary G. Douglas