Ghostly they dance the night sky
screech their moonlit song
scour a city for overfed waste as
tides turn for another million years
©️ Liz Mackenzie

Ghostly they dance the night sky
screech their moonlit song
scour a city for overfed waste as
tides turn for another million years
©️ Liz Mackenzie

Today, at my creative writing group, we did a short writing exercise whereby the person next to you gave you a word (any word) and you had to write no more than 50 words, starting with “I love you” and incorporating the given word. All a bit valentine’s day, thought I; I don’t ‘do’ valentines day but, ever game for a writing challenge, here is my offering with thanks to Elizabeth for a lovely word.
Front Runner
I love you snowdrop, you peek out when
all is grey and Christmas is over.
You’re a front runner
the prelude to Spring
You don’t announce your arrival with
a fanfare, just shyly say, “hi”.
You are my hope
my dare to dream defender
I love you snowdrop
© Liz Mackenzie

Photograph taken at Hodsock Priory Snowdrop Walk on 17 February 2019
Sun’s glint on Aberdeen sea
Gentle wink in dad’s eye
He is there, somewhere
Watching.
©️ Liz Mackenzie

I have left behind the
spring in my step
clambering over rocks
the triumph of hilltops
I have left behind questions
not worth an answer
niggles and annoyances
and petty people
I have left behind memories
that don’t belong in today
and clutter my brain
like too many papers
I have left behind vanity
that made me mind
what people thought
become more me
© Liz Mackenzie
cars, vans and people
hooting, tooting, scooting past
won’t get there faster
©️ Liz Mackenzie
On hearing the news that his Great Grandma had died last year, my Grandson, then not quite 8, said 2 things; “Is Great Grandad ok?” and “I’d like to have a Great Grandma Day every year to remember her.”
We were all struck by his sensitivity, his awareness of death and its finality, and his concern for his Great Grandad. A year on, I wondered if he’d remember and if it would still be something he wanted to do. My daughter asked him; he had remembered and he did want to have Great Grandma Day. We settled on a small family get together on a Sunday, with roast dinner and a few games. “Great Grandma” always cooked a roast on a Sunday and loved playing all sorts of games. When she and “Great Grandad” were younger they had been avid table tennis players and, given the weather in January, this seemed a better option than tennis or golf – her other passions. So, after lunch, washing up done and kitchen cleared, we were able to play and recount tales of Great Grandma and Great Grandad’s prowess at the game. Meanwhile “Flippin Fish” and a Scotland jigsaw puzzle were ‘happening’ in the living room.
It was a simple day with family; enjoying each other’s company and being together to remember Mum, Grandma, Great Grandma. Writing this, I am humbled, again, by the incredible insight, sensitivity and thoughtfulness of my Grandson; a lesson to us all in listening to our children and grandchildren, and marvelling at their wisdom.
I hope there will be many more Great Grandma Days ahead; times to share, to be together and to remember.
© Liz MacKenzie
A tongue in cheek poem for Boxing Day.
Bubble squeaking with pigs in blankets
Over- indulgence leaving some
Xanthic (or yellowish if you will)
Invite friends for silly games
Nod off during yet more Christmas films
Go for a walk, brisk and bright
Doze again to TV repeats
And smile at yesterday’s snapshots
Yule, Christmas, Noel and New Year beckons…
©️ Liz Mackenzie
No one said that forever,
Gu bràth, is not so.
Forever is temporary
As long as is granted
For a time
Christmas will reveal
Less places at the table
More wishing stars
Riding the branches
Of our tree
Memories hurt the heart
Gaps like broken teeth
Punched out
Forever lost to somewhere
Or something
Look back, look ahead
Gu bràth, forever in thought.
See generations new
Alive with Christmas mystery
And breathe ….
© Liz MacKenzie
Literal meaning of gu bràth in Gaelic is “until Judgement”. It is also used to mean “forever” as in Alba gu bràth – Scotland forever
The good thing about being part of a creative writing group is the challenge to write ‘on the spot’. For me, this gives the chance to go with whatever first comes to mind within a specific theme. Today’s challenge was to write something starting with, “All I want for Christmas …”. I did go with my first thought but couldn’t read it out; too raw. I can, however, post it here.
All I want for Christmas is to see mum once more, and for last Christmas not to have been … the last. Would she speak with dementia wit after Christmas lunch with her party hat on and her plate empty? “What are you doing for Christmas, dear?”

Cheers, mum x
©️ Liz Mackenzie