A tribute to my beloved mother, Patricia Audrey Collins September 18, 1920 – January 30, 2017

  The voices swell and bound to lap the grey stones. They rise, smoke thin and fade in the dim, stained light, Following echoes a thousand years gone.   Ten thousand echoes and they awaken them, High in cold, vaulted spaces to return them here, Here where the heart listens.   Listens, Voices made flesh […]

Stillness measured by chant by cloistered step, Taper lighted stillness Cool from stone walls reflected, Remembered, remembering Ruins where once the sweet choirs sang. Four hundred years and more, Yet still they rise, the monkish voices. And the village hears Each village passing sung to rest.           ©Marilyn Holloway 1974

  Child’s fingers twined the honeysuckle in lanes Heavy and damp with green. Cream sweet the scent mingled in the blackthorn And the hawthorn, whose young leaves we ate, Calling them, “Bread and cheese.” Even now, twined tender, those dreams, Caught in the branches of a Hampshire lane, Ten thousand miles away.   ©Marilyn Holloway […]

After Saint-Jean Perse “L’enfance mon amour, n’était-ce que cela?” Was it only childhood, my love?  Childhood, my love… This joining of hands with the morning. The salt air is my hunger, the roof of my mouth is like Hard, wet sand ripples under  bare feet. I troll this endless morning with shrimp net and pail, There […]