Poem: Birthday month

The murmur of Radio 4 and the smell of onions.
You at work, moving ingredients and thoughts
In handfuls, in circles.
You taught me to taste and to read,
Wrote lines in my first cookbook,
Sparked my imagination with stories
Over toast and tea.
Soon we will mark fifty years of you,
Twenty three of me.
We will break bread – the kind we can eat –
And I will show you this.
A thank you for holding my hand during my first steps,
For sending words of encouragement during the next ones.
For the books bought and borrowed,
The phone calls during moments of pure panic.
For showing me what doing a little good in this world can do.
I hope that you will be around for a long time yet,
But when you are not, I will reach for
The murmur of Radio 4 and the smell of onions.

On writing and romance

I recently came across these lines in my 2013/14 journal:

‘I’m finding it slightly strange that I’m turning into a woman capable of professionalism and at the same time I’m just a twenty year old who reads a lot and writes about her feelings.’

More than two years on, I feel confident in my growing professional abilities (hello, team, if you’re reading this) and more open about my creative life beyond work. As I mentioned in this post on self-care, writing gives me space to process my experiences. I find it comforting to note down minor thoughts and grapple with the big picture. It frees up headspace and makes me better at my weekday work. (I’m fortunate that playing around with words is also part of my current job – #comms.)

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