Aargh – I missed yesterday’s poem – so here it is…luckily free verse this time, about hands


I unwrapped your heart today
from where it sat, cold, unfeeling
holding no-one’s hands
not noticing the world’s pain

I gathered up the sun’s warmth
and massaged gently each marble curve
to find the human flesh beneath
and help the blood to run, once more
to the beat of humanity.

But I fear it needs
a greater hand than mine
else all that remains
when the children cry
will be indifference.

© Maureen Sudlow



Another challenge for poetry 201 – this time an ode with use of an apostrophe…

Do you remember Mother,
this old muff, found in your drawers
as we took on the task of moving on?
How it warmed your old hands
when the blood flowed slowly
through your veins?

And I remember my own muff,
a warm and furry cave
that hid my hands
from winter’s biting chill.
An illusion of warmth
in an indifferent world.


© Maureen Sudlow

a re-hash of an old one I’m afraid…


I had to write a ballad for Poetry 201 and couldn’t resist this…our neighbour is cycling the length of the North Island to raise money for the Tear Fund.


No slacker, he set out one day
to raise money for a cause
he mounted on his trusty bike
to iron out the flaws

– in his fitness of course

He mounted on his trusty bike
and trained hard every day
and he was out there rain or shine
just pedaling on his way.

He got up in the morning
before the cock had crowed
and biked a few kilometers
on every kind of road

– just for fun of course

And mounted on his trusty bike
and in his lycra shorts
he cut a dashing figure
in everybody’s thoughts

-especially his wife’s

And soon the challenge he’ll fulfill
from North Cape to the bottom
in other words to Wellington
not everybody’s got ‘em

– the words I mean

So spare a thought for Simon
as he mounts his trusty bike
and even if his backside hurts
It’s better than a hike…

– well marginally of course…

© Maureen Sudlow