Sallie Howson

Shot down in its prime.
Shot down
While making daisy chains in the park
For little girls to be daisy queens.
...

Breakfast was torture
Without you.
The kettle refused to boil,
The toaster burnt the bread
...

This is no
Sweet “carried off by angels”
At the age of 90
Kind of death.
...

Knock, knock
On the window.
Two fat raindrops
Calling me out.
...

I have a wooden box
Under my bed.
It’s hand crafted and carved
And inlaid with gold
...

I love
Lindt hot chocolate on a winter’s day,
Fresh fruit salad in the month of May,
Summer strolls with the smell of hay,
...

Give me a man
Who wants the moon
But demands nothing.
...

I woke this morning to find
An old man in my bed.
Short grey halo
Surrounding his bald head,
...

They pity her
All alone
In the corner
Of the restaurant
...

I don’t mind that
You took my books
And CDs
Or even my new set of kitchen knives
...

Year 1
Launching our boat
On the lake of life.
Two eager shipmates
...

I will not visit art galleries
With you in mind.
Buying books
And postcards
...

Why do you love me my friend?

I love you for the lightness of your soul,
For the laughter and happiness you bring,
...

Tomorrow morning at 10
Or maybe 11
The world will stop
For a cup of tea.
...

Announced on the breakfast show
We choke on our coffee and
Mothers call their daughters
Fathers call their sons.
...

I bought a hat today
Ready for the Siberian wind
They’ve been promising for a week.
I hate winter
...

The words are little
Butterflies
Fluttering around my head.
I catch them
...

Swing, swing,
Dozing in the hammock,
Above me sky ablue,
Sweet summer Sunday,
...

Red pen
White wine
Van Morrison
Belting it out
...

And when I wake
And you are gone
I place
My hand
...