My poem published in The Broadsheet as part of the Exeter Poetry Festival October 2014

The Chalice and the Heart


He explained as clearly as he could

about the heart inside each vertebrae.

He drew and it was beautiful,

our spinal cord rising through a series of hearts.


One of mine is no longer a heart,

but a chalice, like a cocktail glass.

Eventually, it may shrink to the rune File:Runic letter algiz.svg

Algiz, the earth, which is also Z the end.


for National Poetry Day on October 2nd






When his mother died, Seamus Heaney

wrote a poem about folding a sheet with her.


So many days I have lifted sheets

from the line with my own mother.


She taught me the way of folding.

Together we would dance to and fro,


handing the cloth to her as she made

the final fold, a pat and sigh,


that slight smile to meet my eye,

then on to the next.


I never wanted it to end.



poem and photograph Rose Cook


New poetry reading dates

I will be reading my poems at:

Plymouth Central Library, Drake Circus, Plymouth PL4 8AL   

on Saturday 20th September    2-3.30 pm, with  Ann Alexander, Caroline Carver. A free event from Grey Hen Press.   

Also on Sunday September 21st at 7pm at TAAG, 4/5 Northumberland Place, Teignmouth, Devon TQ14 8DD for World Peace Day

and at the Torbay Poetry Festival on Monday Oct. 27th with Moor poets in the function room at Living Coasts, Torquay 10.30am-12


photo by Rose Cook

Poem for someone who is juggling her life

rose cook:

Thanks Anthony.

Originally posted on Anthony Wilson:

I am taking a break from writing brand new blog posts over the summer.

Instead of posting new work I am giving readers the chance to read material from the archives of my blog.

In no particular order, here are twenty of my favourite posts from the last four years.

Rose Cook’s marvellous ‘Poem for someone who is juggling her life’ came into my life a year or two ago through the marvellous aegis of Helena Nelson at HappenStance Press. As a subscriber to the press I receive one of their poem-cards each quarter. This is how ‘Poem for someone who is juggling her life’ came to be on my doormat.

To say I loved it immediately would be an understatement. It spoke into into that place which exists, Frost says, ‘before words were, living in the cave of the mouth’. It sent me back to myself and to silence…

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