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“The Months Fly By “

The months fly by or so it seems these days. It can hardly be almost three years since the last desert reunion and my poem written of this time, of our meeting in London, but it is. This coming April I plan to return to the desert once again back to the garden city of Al Ain, in the United Arab Emirates. How exciting this will be after first going their 32 years ago. It will be nice to see old friends once again and to view the amazing changes made to this arid land of sun and sand. My poem of the last reunion is shown here:

Reunion – Jewels Nightclub – Piccadilly  London April 2013. read more…

My Wish for 2017.

My 2017 Wish: ❤️

When I was younger, I never thought about losing someone I loved, silly me, how naive but I thought as I loved my Mother and Father utterly and entirely that they would be there forever, well at least until they were VERY old. Then the years passed quickly and so did they and they weren’t…Then a few short years later I lost my ‘ best love’ ! I recently looked at my old address book and was saddened at the names crossed through, friends no longer here. 😔
❤️As a New Year starts, 2017, a once thought of faraway number for me, may I ask you something dear family, dear friends, may I ask you to love and cherish those precious to you. Hold them tight, never take them for granted, give them loads of hugs and tell them you love them❤️
My constant consolation in life is that I told my Mum and Dad and my ‘ best love’ often how much I loved them – we all did – it’s a family thing perhaps but it wasn’t always so but how very important you know, for one day you may ‘ turn around’ and ‘they’ have gone…
Do it at the start of this New Year, ❤️do it today❤️do it now, say it often,hold them close❤️for love, if you feel it, is the greatest gift you can give, it is also the greatest gift you can receive. Tell your children, your wife, your husband, your partner, your lover, your mistress, your dear friend, your pet, that you love and cherish them if you do ❤️Never miss the chance, for life is so fleeting and memories are all that remain when those you love are gone, remember love is the greatest and most powerful gift of all! ..❤️

Corinthians 13:1
” I may speak in different languages of people or angels but if I do not have love I am a noisy bell or a crashing cymbal. I may have the gift of prophecy. I may understand all the secrets things of God and have all knowledge and I may have faith so great I can move mountains but even with all these things, if I do not have love, then I am nothing…”

❤️I love you my dear family and my dear friends and I wish you all a very Joyous And Healthy 2017❤️

The Box Of Secrets – Poems of Love.

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“The Box Of Secrets” Poems and Photos available in soft-back and hardback styles, all to be found on Under poetry. Or  This book is sold via Blurb and not from this page.

The Box Of Secrets

Introducing my new glossy coffee-table book full of ”Poems of Love” and gorgeous photos. You can find it over at in the bookshop under poetry. In larger print for ‘tired’ eyes.img_3177

“Not Just A Paper Flower” by Susie Hemingway


Not Just A Paper Flower.

This red paper poppy
I wear with much pride
this token, this mark,
this blood red emblem,
not just a paper poppy
well not in my eyes…

As we turn our thoughts back
during this month of November
we stand with glistening eyes
for those brave gallant soldiers,
many who never came back.
This red paper flower is
all that can show, respect and
admiration to those that did go,
to lonely mist filled beaches and foreign fields,
sailed stormy seas and flew bomb filled air.
Those who stood fast together
with much to bear.

Comrades in battle,
courageous but fearful,
the stories do tell,
of so many who perished
in the horror of war,
this nightmare of violence
where so many fell,
this bravery in brotherhood,
tainted and evil,
this wasted crush of earth…
Remember…not just a paper flower!

Praise to the Army, Home Guard,
Navy and Airforce.
As futurity we’ll never forget,
those dark days of war…
Not just a paper flower, well not for me,
How lucky we are,
as we drink our sweet tea!
How lucky we are for the liberty of life.
Not just a paper flower!
These wars of destruction and strife.

Remember them well, keep in your heart,
this offering of self that they gave in their part.
This gift of autonomy so safely saved,
these great comrades of war
who fought on, day after day.
These brave soldiers of war, Ladies and Men,
who stood fast together
our sovereignty to save,
who marched on for freedom,
our kingdom to defend.
Oh no, not just a paper flower.

They held on forever
so did they dare,
to dream of hearth and home,
of their  loved ones who
they were protecting being there.
This right of liberty so costly paid,
with fervency of pride they gave all
during dark days,
from oppressive evil, our birthrights were saved.

Through Germany and France they marched,
across the desert of El Alamein.
in Palestine to name a few…
for the Italian campaign of Monte Cassino,
we will remember them too!

Not just a paper flower, well not for me,
Not just a paper flower,
This state of being free…

In memory of:
My Father – Brindley Robert Pickering – Germany, France, and Poland.
My Uncle – Thomas Edward Pickering – Monte Cassino in Italy.
My Uncle – John Llewelyn Rawlings. – Egypt, Germany and Palestine.
My Uncle – Albert Stanley Pain. – El Alamein,Egypt. And India.
My Uncle – Robert Applegate Hodgson. The Skies over Europe
My Grandfather. Christopher John Rawlings – ARP Warden ,The City of London.

My Uncle Robert Applegate Hodgson was stationed in Iceland for a time and also with coastal command, patrolling Scapa Flow.He also help drop supplies to the Orkneys and Shetlands. Later involved with towing gliders to Arnheim. He mentioned Berlin and being horrified by what he saw and said “poor devils they had it worse than us”His squadron was sent to Malta but he came down with pneumonia, a lucky escape indeed, he was sent to a beautiful manor house for recuperation. His squadron were shot down and either perished or were captured . Later he became a squadron leader towards the end of the war. His family had all of his relics- a sealed pack with a cyanide pill in! Also altered photos in case he was captured. Just a little of their bravery.


Chateau Magic.


Just as a child’s fairy tale
this vision of mystique dreams,
this magnificent realm of
chateau magic
that I have ever seen,
romance abounds
within these walls
built from love, I’m sure.

This immense bastion
this estate and stronghold
is more,
this private kingdom
magical, mystical, spectral
it is of fairies, spirits,
it is of goblins,
of this I’m sure…

To live this life without romance
without dreams and fairy tales,
would dull the days
make indolent the evening song,
no ‘folly’ that provides such delight
where feasts the eyes such tranquility
and joy,
of this I’m sure…

Of this I’m sure…


Photo – courtesy of Brian Firth.

Copyright @Susie Hemingway 2016.

I Walked In The Sun.

Najood heaven.

Najood heaven.


I walked in the early morning sun
and thought of you…
I was filling my mind,
I was contemplating a plan
you know, the sort that
gives you joy, faraway places
the sand between your toes,
that kind of plan.

You invaded my mind
as you often do,
I saw you clearly, dark eyes
that smile…
What would you think of my plan?
but I already knew the answer,
“go do it girl”

I walked in the sun…

Tuk Tuk

Tuk Tuk


Blues skies into long sultry nights
draws us back once more
music plays “this guys in love with you”,
cascades the water and pours its charms
through and down under tiny coin filled bridge.

Tan men, beautiful ladies, the smell of sun,
cologne and the odd cigar
mixes and blends with Asian ‘fusion’ delights,
the aromas reaching our noses before we
step over the glinting water…

We settled on smart sofa’s as the handsome
‘chef de rang’ brought cocktails to delight,
refreshing Long Island tea, vivid pink Daiquiris,
the green mint from the sweet Mojito’s shining
in catching candle light, the clinking ice…

It was a delight, it made another memory,
It served us well,
And when I can no longer travel
It will remain, Tuk Tuk and those
warm balmy nights.

It made another memory…



Dedicated to my son Jo.


The World is Crying.


The World is Crying.

Sadness fills our streets our beautiful places
it invades our innermost thoughts
it soaks through our clothes
it permeates our skin
it floods our eyes with salty tears

the warm balmy air carried that special aroma
of sun-kissed bodies and laughter
of garlicky rich delicious food
from smart hotels and cafes along
the Promenade des Anglais

such evilness invaded
marred and tried to spoil
occupying and seizing us
when lost so many souls
too much sadness in that evening air

memories now spoilt
imbued with different visions
they must be redeemed
yes they must be redeemed
or ‘you’ have won with your evilness

the world is crying…