Sally Richards

A glass or two at the weekend

She stands

lubricated by the third large glass

of red

regaling the group

with some story or other

hasty choice of white plastic pumps


with the setting.

They sit

with supercilious smiles;

through gritted teeth - the odd sip

of Chardonnay;

eyes telling a different story

distain leaks

from the corner of mouths

as she gets louder, more animated

by the minute.

The one, alpha, male

attempts, without success, to subdue

her exuberance;

she’s having none of it

This is her moment

her time, her captive audience,

away from invisibility,

his bellowing presence;

she can really let go.

Maybe her delusion is a blessing,

better than the truth

of never being heard.

Sally Richards © 2009

A Change of Perspective

All the emotional years;

a banner of guilt

hanging over my head –

failure, bad person, failure

Friends I lost along:


from their minds,


out of  worlds.

Awake in the dark

soaked through

with pain of memories

blackened days,

light-filled nights;


rumbling through the quiet peace

…paled into the distance

when once again

I heard times’ thunder,

felt its chill on my face,

as it circled my green.

Sally Richards © 2009