First published 11 December 2020
Gleeful
Wild
Outrageous
Contagious
Cheerful
Fearful
Respectful
Disrespectful
Full
Mad
Sad
Glad
Cook
Read a Book
Make Tea
Dance
Romance
Work
Shirk
Naughty
Nosy
Silly
Me.
2000 & 2020
Ambitions
Maggie Baker writing about … being Glad … about …
JOMO
First published 18 November 2020
Psyched out of the equation
it is with some consternation
that I review my position
in a state of transition
Then I choose to change my view
there’s nothing else that I can do
I have my health, my love, my friends
on nothing else my life depends
2020 & 2025
Poetry Rule No. 38 Take your time but no one else’s
First published 18 November 2020
Pedal Pushing
Today I pile on warm clothes
push toes into boots
hands into gloves
fix helmet on head
put pressure on one pedal after another
with grey treads turning on icy tarmac
in reflective waistcoat
I propel myself down the hill
looking like a wasp on wheels
Feet freeze into tennis balls
wind works its way in
between folds
finding skin
it’s an easy ride
but I’m glad to arrive
at work
this morning
Evening comes
and I do it all over again
this time lungs stretch and scream
at the incline that challenges me to stop
but thoughts of home and rest
are the pull
Pushing, pushing, pushing
keeps the wheels turning
until I arrive at the gate
maybe a bit late
hair wet with sweat
pedals finally still
pushing finished
for today
2017
Talking
First published 18 November 2020
I’ve never been very good at talking.
At primary school I was cast as a mouse in the school play: all I had to do was say “squeak, squeak”.
The career advice I was given at secondary school was to become a librarian.
I didn’t want to become a librarian (or be a mouse) – I wanted to be able to speak.
There have been times in my life when I felt, finally, that some degree of fluency was coming through. But I’ve never quite reached the point of feeling that I could say what I wanted or needed to say, in any given situation. I think that’s why I’ve turned to writing poetry, because however much the spoken word evades me, and for whatever reason, I can express myself in poetry, one way or another. It doesn’t mean I don’t end up feeling ‘dumb’ and stupid in conversation when my brain can’t tune in to what is being said. However, in more positive moments I can also reflect on the many facets of communication, and the importance of being heard, in one way or another.
Cancellation
Originally published 02 November 2020
My holiday was cancelled
and I had to stay at home
I started feeling angry
and even a bit glum
But then I saw the sad news
so many dead at sea
fleeing from their countries
just wanting to be free
I was disappointed
they were lost and drowned
it gave me some perspective
and made me look around
I only had to change my mind
I still had life and breath and limb
I’d only lost a holiday
While they’d lost everything.
2013 & 2017
Poetry Rule No. 35 Learning can be a good way of avoiding being taught
First published 13 October 2020
Life is a bowl of cherries
Life is a bowl of cherries
full of plumped up promise
like luscious lips
that are pouting and touting
for kisses
Life is a bowl of cherries
each ripe round fruit
tantalising and taut
held by a stalk
until teeth break into the taste
of sweet, tender flesh
Life is a bowl of cherries
juices savoured and swallowed
stones sucked clean
and spat out
until –
one by one –
the cherries
in the bowl
are all
gone
2017
Poetry Rule No. 11 Don’t be afraid of being paranoid – everyone else is, aren’t they?
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Poetry Rule No. 13 Something to do with responsibility
Originally published 13 October 2020
Your Hands
Your hand is soft and warm, so beautiful
I want to take a photograph of it
but it seems disrespectful
Delicate and strong
I stroke it and know
it is comforting for you
it is for me too
Your hands are the hands
that cared for me when I was young
they have tended your garden
and left nothing undone
All your life you have cared for others
with your hands and with your heart
warm and soft and kind and strong
I’ll keep your hands within my heart
my whole life long
Dedicated to my Mum, Vera Elsie Baker (née Wallis) 22 May 1921 to March 2015 & my Dad, Albany Baker 22 August 1910 to February 1992. Both had amazing, strong, caring hands.
Day 28
Continuing the story of Lydia and Me
On the 28th day in my latest cycle of “Writing for Life”, I reflect on how far I’ve come.
For a long time, I thought and hoped that I would eventually arrive at a point of ‘recovery’ from the difficulties and distress that I’ve been working through for most of my life.
It hasn’t worked out like that though; in fact, it’s worked out better.
I’m still not and probably never will be a ‘morning person’. I need a lot of time to rest in bed, even if I’m not sleeping. I don’t ‘seize the day’ with a leap and a jump but it doesn’t matter. I let myself be what I am while still working steadily on turning old, ingrained patterns into new ones. Big cogs take a longer time to turn and I do what I can when I can, in positive ways.
Rather than ‘recover’ to a known point, I’ve grown into the unknown; a place that is at times unfamiliar and uncomfortable. This opens up possibilities for further growth, pushing me to experience much more of life than I ever could have imagined.
It’s taken a massive amount of energy and effort and every last bit of motivation that I can muster, but I know that I have gone a long way towards training my mind and will keep doing just that.
While I take a short break from writing my daily blog, I’ll republish earlier posts. I’ll also be putting together paperback versions of my two latest books, available on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited:
Thank you for your support. See you soon.
Day 27
Continuing the story of Lydia and Me
There were eight of us at the poetry group meeting this morning.
I hadn’t had breakfast before I went but I felt nourished by the nature of the group, sharing words that we’d prepared and formed in whatever ways we wanted to.
On the way home, needing food for body as well as soul, I bought buns and vanilla slices for me and Trev.
I then headed out again for the Open Day at the kennels that I take Lydia to when we’re away.
The kennels have a rescue and rehoming facility as well as the business side, so I like to support them in whatever way that I can. There were plenty of other people there to support them too.
Lydia and I had a rest together this afternoon. The importance of rest is a lesson that I’ve been learning only recently. Sometimes, the time and circumstances just have to be right.
Van Gogh featured in the discussion at the poetry group. He struggled to rest, with all the complex thoughts and influences going on in his mind, channelling his energies through paint. Quite how he found the focus for this I don’t know, in the time and circumstances that he lived in. But he did.
The theme for next month’s meeting was agreed and set as “something funny”.
I’m looking forward to thinking and writing about something funny. It’s time I had a good laugh. I’ve had to work hard and dig deep to turn my life around through decades of difficulties and distress. Now is the time to start having fun.
Glad About 
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