Seven years ago today, I was in a panic. We were snowed in, for the first time in years, and I needed to get to the station to catch a train southwards. My daughter was due to give birth to her first child and I’d promised to be there. Thankfully, in our village, the snow […]
Tag: Grandson
What’s Going On?
Each walk reveals autumn’s treasures: late blooming flowers, nuts and berries illuminate ditches and hedges, ruby haws stud green leaves, and sunflowers linger between harvest sheaves. August’s visitors are long gone; daughter, son-in-law and grandsons have left a trace of joy behind, and they are always on my mind as I walk the country lanes. […]
Little Toy Engine
A little toy engine sits on my shelf, It isn’t mine. I didn’t buy it for myself, It was part of a birthday present for a special boy, a battery-run, magnetic, self-propelling toy that was meant to pull its wagons round a track. It didn’t work and I had to bring it back. A replacement […]
Proud
the proudest moment uttering a new word – clock he’s not even two Kim M. Russell, 9th January 2020 My response to Carpe Diem #1794 New Beginnings: new born Today’s challenge is to create haiku, tanka or other form of Japanese poetry on the theme of ‘new born’, and can be about new born babies, […]
A Haiku for Lucas
Tyrannosaurus crashing through the undergrowth each breath a roar Kim M. Russell, 3rd December 2019
Through the Eyes of a Child
We watch a big blue tractor rumble by, his small body in my arms, straining to see more. Wide eyes spot two cock pheasants down by the gate, he can’t wait; his small hand grabs his mother’s and they’re off on a hunt, and find pheasants, swans, horses and boats – and chickens! We visit […]
Kamishibai
Last Saturday I left home a mother and made a journey of just over four hours to visit my daughter and look after her home while she was in hospital. The train journey was chilly and the landscape covered by a blanket of snow, with the constant worry that at some point the train might […]
To My Unborn Grandson
Dearest boy, I am counting down the days and knitting. I am amazed at the butterflies of anticipation, imagining your eyes, mouth and nose, your tiny fingers and toes, the fresh-baked smell from the top of your head. I can’t wait to sing the songs I once sang to your mother, and the ones mine […]
writing in north norfolk 