Wendy Mary Lister (UK)

Wendy Mary Lister (UK)

Wendy Mary Lister’s work has appeared in various Magazine and literary journals; Tips for Writers uk; Reach Poetry uk; PoetCrit literary journal India; Bridge-In-Making India; Enchanting verses and a Poetry journal in Albania, plus varied magazines in India.

She has also interviewed and published reviews of established Poet/author K.K. Stivastava Poet/author. She has an avid interest in the arts and varied culture, heritage. She is English; presently living in the city of Glasgow, Scotland for the last 7 years.


Poems by Wendy Mary Lister


Lost Stars—

I saw unspoken words
in the eyes of people
struggling dementia

Tears sheltering inside;
their thoughts, plugged
by child like dreams

They stare, when they
no longer have a need
to despair-of the today’s,

or the tomorrow’s—
They’ve a place to hide,
to go, that’s faraway –

A place they don’t
need to talk or say;
a place where they

can sway-freely like
wind, on a windless day;
where they can fly on

the wing with a smile
on their face, in a world
where imaginings spill-

hysterical interludes;
they are lost stars that
no longer sparkle—

And when silence
hangs in air they breathe,
they cry like a child –

They always look for
the past in the silence
of their own sleep;

In voices now absent-
whispers, with flowers
above their-bones


You’re In Lockdown—

What are we meant to
do, when the mind has
finally turned to mush-
immerse it inside liquid,
when the light has burnt
out; It would be an end
that every other end fits
inside—a jar

Surely time isn’t always
so blind; i think time just
wants to pin words on
our emotions, struggles
during loss of normality,
that was otherwise given
as the pattern for regular

Are we really going to be
a character in the new
narrative, the new quiet
time-everywhere around
evening; and weeks later
get left to wonder who
the hell we are, or even
if we’re meant to have
again, the life we had
before it all began—
maybe it’s just the
natural order, sending
us a reminder of how
us humans have screwed
things up


Sunday Morning—
(sequence of Haiku & Senryu)

Washing on the line
is cavorting with-the trees,
in a feisty breeze

The birds are singing;
uplifting songs-and the sun
is laughing with joy

The radio soothes;
that Sunday morning feeling
that’s so fulfilling—

emptying thoughts,
filling my heart, my body,
with love-light and hope



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