Two poems from Gillian.


I long for a cottage by the sea,
with a window onto the beach,
and a porch with a seat
out of the wind,
where I can sit and shell the peas.

All I want is a couple of rooms,
with an open hearth for a fire
of the driftwood brought in
by the winds and tides
to make hissing rainbow flames.

I’d have a well of the purest water
and a garden wall sheltered behind
with an apple tree so I could pick
the autumn fruit
and bite the salty skin.

I’d be by myself by the side of the sea
alone with my books and dreams.
The only sound the cries of birds
and the crash of the waves
to lull me gently to sleep.

One day I’ll go to this eternal place,
where my dreams become what’s real
and life is fresh and clean.
There I’ll remain
as my ashes float out to sea.

© Gillian Peall



5 Fifteen Minutes of Fame

She’d come forward, of course, when they asked for witnesses.
Its wicked what can happen to kiddies these days.
Just not safe anywhere.
Anyway, she’d told the police she’d seen this man
In a blue anorak,
With a little girl holding his hand
Walking towards the old quarry.
Course, the Police were all over the quarry like a rash,
Two or three big vans and all taped off.

She’d been on the 6 o’clock news,
Standing right outside her house.
and later on the ten o’clock,
Only that was only on the local,
The weekly came round and interviewed her,
Only that didn’t come out while Thursday.

And by that time they’d found her body
In the park
Right the other side of the town.
Poor little soul.

© Gillian Peall


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