On this page you’ll find a selection of Poems and things I’ve written at various times over the years …

When the darkness overwhelms …

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my emptiness with your mercy,

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my brokenness with your healing,

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my cracked bones with your restoration.

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my black clouds with your light.

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my heart with your hope,

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my mind with your peace.

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my soul with your love.

When the darkness overwhelms, fill my life with your grace.

© Helen – November 2013

The Whisper.
Foundation, false lashes and make up covering the bruised eye,
A weary body, waking up every day with a sigh,
Stories to tell, from behind those closed doors,
Of a life so unfulfilled and full of wars.

The days go by, turning into weeks, months and then years …
A body crying out for help, a loud plea, which no one hears
With pills in one hand, alcohol in the other, it feels like there is no way out
But all of a sudden her mind is consumed with a whisper of doubt.

Looking upwards, reaching out her arms and lifting up her head,
Slowly, standing on her feet, she walks away from where she bled.
With her one small bag packed and a coat over her shoulder
On she walks, and walks until the day comes when she is older.

As the years pass by, the scars never go, but begin to get lighter
She sits down, and watches life go by, and the sun getting brighter
And as she confronts all of the things in her life she fears
In the stillness the previous whisper of ‘I love you’ is all she hears.

© Helen

You Are Mine

Tears fall, streaming down her face,

as she curls up on the floor,

believing that for her, it is the only place,

because she does not deserve any more.

She wraps her arms around her chest,

to try and ease the bruises and the pain,

lying there, very still, with no energy to protest,

fading into the carpet, like a stain.

Ignored, unseen and trampled on,

by the people who walk over with no cares,

feeling filthy and ashamed, finally she is stumbled upon,

and up she stand in full view of their stares.

The broken bones are tenderly held,

as the arms that are open wide wrap round tightly,

all fears and trembling are quelled,

the light that is above shines so brightly.

Rising up, so tall, looking up to the skies,

totally embraced, and finally starting to feel loved,

the ash becomes a beauty, as the sun begins to rise,

and a voice speaks into her soul, ‘ you are mine, beloved’.

© Helen

a poem

scum, slapper, slag, whore

words being shouted more and more,
stones are picked up and thrown in her face,
because all society thinks is what a disgrace.

so, slowly, heading home, she takes a walk,
longing for one person who will talk,
maybe say a nice word, or give a smile,
hoping one day to feel that her life is worthwhile.

the needle goes in, no feeling of pain,
as the liquid runs through a vein
silently moving, right up to the eye,
where to sleep she falls, without even a cry.

the nightmares, all the time they come and go,
sometimes thick and fast, but often long and slow,
the morning sun rises, and its back to the streets,
to earn some money from people she meets.

Stood on a corner, a life totally wrecked,
hoping and praying that she can regain some respect.
looking upwards, a tired mind, searching for peace,
longing that all the suffering and aching will cease.

cherished, precious, loved and valuable
the stranger collecting the tears by the bottle full
speaking meaningful words that soak into her soul,
so that someday, once again she can become whole.

© Helen

I wrote the poem “Why?” a couple of years ago, and was very honoured for it to be published in a book by Veronica Zundel called “Crying for the Light”.


So, Lord tell me why you planned this?
I would like to know.

You made me, and have your hand on me,
but where are you?
In the dark times of pain, you feel so close
yet so far away.

So, Lord, tell me why you planned this?
I would like to know.

I feel I have no words to say, but my
fingers keep typing away
trying to find some reasoning ,
trying to work out why,

so Lord tell me!
Why did you plan all this?
I would like to know.

You made the sun, the stars and the sea.
You made this world,
this life I live
which sometimes wonders where you are.

So, Lord, tell me why you planned this?
I would like to know.

Sometimes I cant see clearly through the thick black cloud
but sometimes I look out and see light.
I cry out to you, God, time and time again,
asking, searching, needing, wanting …

So, Lord, tell me why you planned this?
I would like to know.

© Helen


Behind smile is sometimes a heart that cries
There is often a body that is so exhausted
a mind that is in need of rest,
and a life in need of healing

Behind the smile is a person

Behind the face is someone in need of love
Someone in need of friendship
A life needing to be restored
And wandering if and how it will ever happen

Behind the face is a person

Behind the laugh is someone so unsure
Of how people will think,
And trying hard to be the smile,
The face, and the laugh

Behind the laugh is a person

Behind the smile, behind the face, behind the laugh is
A person who can dream
A person who can hope
A person who can learn to live again.

© Helen


Those city lights, shine so brightly

A sign of life, hustle and bustle.

Smiles being smiled,

Laughs being laughed.

Shopping to be done, chat to be had.


The sex seller, the addict, the drunk

Condemned and judged,

that’s what people do

Kicked down to the ground, so low

Seen as unworthy, nothing, nobodies, no one


Those city lights shine so brightly

Bursting on to the streets through windows,

Doors opening to welcome home sons, daughters,

Mothers and fathers.

Tables being laid, families gather for food.


The sex seller, the addict, the drunk

Sitting on the curb, wandering the streets.

Seen as unworthy, nothing, no bodies, no one

Broken souls, shattered into tiny pieces

Devoid of all love, peace and hope.


Those city lights, shine so brightly

As the evening draws to an end,

One by one out go the house lights,

As children are tucked in, and

‘I love you’s’ are heard.


The sex seller, the addict , the drunk

Laying on the floor, in the dirt,

Hurting, hungry, homeless

Wondering  how life seemed to pass

By, without anyone in the world to give a care.


Those city lights, shine so brightly

Doors begin to open, Hands begin to outstretch …

And ever so gently, in to the darkness reaches

The whisper, that’s says ‘I love you’ to

The sex seller, the addict, the drunk.

© Helen

Nightime words

In the middle of the night
All is still, silence all around
The skies are black, stars shining
An owl hoots, no cares in the world.

On the bed she lays,
Staring out of the window,
Thinking how life is passing her by,
Daring to dream of change.

The heart cry of her world,
Longs to love and be loved,
Waiting quietly in the shadows
Of all that is good around her.

A song in the background,
Melodies, sweet harmonies,
Over and over, gentle words,
Soothing the soul, healing the hurt.

A mind so broken and fragmented,
Slowly being put back to pieces,
Longing for the day to arrive,
Where beauty shines through.

© Helen

Nameless Poem

Everything in disarray … the cuts bleeding,

crumpled on the floor,

a beautiful face so distant, weeping.

So weary, so exhausted, broken,

a glass shell shattering into tiny pieces,

Until it is just a dust on the dirty floor

The rain falls, the winds blow

From the east, through to the west

The storm rages, heavy and rough

The skies darken, turning to black,

All of creation trembles, all hope moving,

Further away, slowly disappearing.

Eyes so tired, finally slowly closing,

So gentle, as everything turns to white

And peace overtakes above all else

The warmth engulfs the soul,

Sweeping through every part,

As the little sweet nothings are whispered

The long night comes to an end,

The light begins to rise, morning is here

Another battle is over for now.

© Helen


I look

I look down and see the ground

I look up and see the skies

I look around and wonder where the people are

I look hard and try to find some sense in this life


It is hard when you don’t see what you need

It is hard when you can’t see what it is your longing for

It is hard when you just want that someone to tell you they love you

It is hard when it does not happen


Why does it always rain but you can feel the heat?

Why does the sun shine, but you can feel the cold?

Why is it that people all around are laughing and smiling … ?

Why is it that you laugh and smile with them but cry inside?


When will the heat cool down and cold start to fade?

When will life regain composure and normality?

When will  the heart that is broken mend?

When will it feel like life has begun again?

I look down and see the ground

I look up and see the skies

I look around and wonder where the people are

I look hard and try to find some sense in this life

© Helen

I am

I am not a punch bag

I am not yours to do as you like

I am not some dirty cloth to throw on the floor

I am not just another person to be abused

I have feelings

I have a heart

I have a body that cries

I have eyes, even if they don’t show the tears

I feel the fear sometimes

I feel the sadness of a life unlived

I feel the pain I never speak of

I feel the beating of a broken heart

I wish I could turn back time

I wish life could make more sense

I wish you would view me different

I wish you could hear me

I hope for hope

I hope for peace

I hope for love

I hope for mercy.

I am me

I am her

I am that person

I am

© Helen


The tears fall,

Behind closed curtains,

no one would know,

the truth, as

the tears fall.

The tears fall,

mourning lost love,

her heart is torn in two,

life broken, as

the tears fall.

The tears fall,

the night goes by,

time passes,

a forgotten person, as

the tears fall.

The tears fall,

her soul yearning,

for nearness, once again,

something, anything as

the tears fall.

The tears fall,

as early sunrise light

floods into the darkness

and another day arrives, as

the tears fall.

© Helen – May 2012

Just a little poem of sorts, written as my own thoughts to the #ididnotreport hashtag and tweets that flooded twitter a few days ago. Some incredibly brave tweeters, and a beautiful (but incredibly sad) thing to see so many people finding a voice. 

My own response is about being abused as a child, teenager, and then as an adult in an event that was totally seperate to any of the stuff i’d experienced as a young person. 

(its probably not the most poetically grammatically correct btw)



#ididnotreport because who would have heard?

#ididnotreport because who would believe?

#ididnotreport because i could not utter a single word … 

#ididnotreport because it meant more punishment i’d receive.

#ididnotreport as I got older, for what would be the reason?

#ididnotreport as things moved on, but the memories remain,

#ididnotreport as years went by, and life moved into a new season,

#ididnotreport as i always felt i deserved the pain.

#ididnotreport because i had nothing left worth trying to save

#ididnotreport because nothing mattered to me any more 

#ididnotreport because i could never be that brave

#ididnotreport because even when i tried, someone always closed that door.


#ididnotreport for it had all gone plus more

#ididnotreport for everything i had left was taken

#ididnotreport for I had been shaken to the very core,

#ididnotreport for my whole life had  been broken. 

#ididnotreport but sometimes I wish I had. 

© Helen – March 15th 2012

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