Mary Spain Poems

As though a deaf musician, I am part
Of some great orchestra I cannot hear.
The only notes that fall upon my ear
Are those which rise unbidden from the heart
...

The day I could no longer walk with ease
Beneath the table, made it clear to me
That I was growing. Soon my parents' knees
Were way below my eye-line. I could see
...

Were I allowed a single word each day
Perhaps I'd value it. I'd give it thought
And speak it slowly, as a child is taught
To do. And then, who knows, each word might say
...

He said he'd ring as soon as he returned.
At nine, indulgent of her eagerness,
She settled down with joy to wait and turned
Her chair to face the 'phone. At ten the stress
...

I'm sitting here and you are sitting there,
You're telling me what's happened since we met,
And I am happy for I love to share
All aspects of your busy life. And yet -
...

A sea of living crimson caught my eye
Of oriental splendour, out of place
Beneath the pastel of an English sky
Where soft-toned pastures etch the tranquil face
...

At times it feels as though I'm trapped below
The slatted floor of heaven. Fleetingly,
I glimpse an angel's foot, or what might be
The shadow of a trailing wing, and know
...

I know how Thomas felt; although he saw
Their shining faces telling him what they
Had seen, for him it could be nothing more
Than second-hand experience: the way
...

My home for fourteen years, but, in your eyes,
It's termed a saleable commodity.
Absurd to feel defensive, but it's me
You're wounding when you pause to criticise
...

On Summer afternoons, from two to four,
The sunshine's probing fingers gently trace
A passage 'twixt the city roofs to pour
In fullness on a basement dwelling place.
...