when the silence speaks,

the echoes shatter glass into splintered shards

against that mask  

hiding just beneath the surface of my skin.

The cracks and smears

are oblique,


until the mask is pierced

with an antiseptic sting.

And my medicated voice,


a muted thing

bleeds and trickles through my consciousness.

It is crawling free, 

this silence now,

leaking through my pores

and begging to be heard,

or understood,

or maybe, maybe, even just to be

a spoken word.


The faint flickering of a distant drum

Comes drifting into my horizon,

Into my consciousness,

Into my line of vision,


with the clattering stampede of a thousand 


Persistent rhythm throbs

with the crick of my neck


towards the noise.



into the panorama of my confusion where

the blurred white hum is


Into the pathos of my complacency,

and, waiting with the hues of grey and

dirty, mottled beige

is that nettle.

That nettle, whose cathartic sting,

That nettle, whose cathartic sting

with piercing, penetrating clarity,

That nettle, whose cathartic sting

with piercing, penetrating clarity,

sings the truth of my thousand dreams.


I offer my thoughts into the night,

Into the shadowy, hazy corner, 

Into half-light,

Where they are beckoned to dance.


A flickering of words that tap, 

A repetition,



A moment of clarity,

A moment of rhythm.  

I sing my thoughts into the breeze,

And they are swept with the rush of petals,


scooped with leaves,

are floating.

My words billow with summers transience.



A moment of tranquility,

A moment of innocence.

I whisper my thoughts into the sea,

Into the quiet of sand beneath,

And, bleached with salt,

they are comfortably 


Into their resting,

and into their ashes, 

they quietly wait.

A moment of cleansing, 

A moment of testing.


At a closed window,

looking down onto a Street.

She sits.

A life within mirrors 

and reflections that stare back at her

through finger prints 

and dust.

The soft cascade of sand 

in Time’s tired hour-glass, 

and the Street rushing past her 

both drip,

arrogantly busy

to recede into their new partition.

And the Street doesn’t notice, 

and neither does Time,

that the tremor in her hand 

is shaking her cup.

Or that the tea, 

spilling into her lap,

is already 


A Gift

Tissue paper in neat folds ,

ornately tied with perfect bows 

around a golden papered box;

excitement builds,

its promise mocks.

I wonder what’s inside that box,

my fingers twitch on ribboned locks;

I tease the corner, 

ease the tape;

untie the knots,

unleash the cape

that’s binding what is hidden there;

anticipation and a share 

of wonderment, excitement, chance;

to peel back, secretly to glance

and peek within the treasures glove;

then open what’s been wrapped in love.

Car Wash

Most ‘lessons’ within the EYFS rarely contain a finite ‘ending’. In fact, beginnings and middles are often also absent. The definition of ‘lesson’, in the traditional sense, also needs redefining with ‘experiences’ becoming the trade term. We ‘offer’ or provide ‘experiences’ and engage/teach/learn with the child as they interact with them.

My approach, and the approach of most EYFS professionals would be to plan a continuous provision that stimulates a response to particular strands of the curriculum; to meet the children at their point of engagement, and interact with their learning to enable ‘critical learning’ to take place. The overarching pedagogical principal of this is that the learning is unanimously child centered, child led and personal; that planning takes place ‘in the moment’ and that the process is ‘learning driven’ rather than ‘outcome driven’. You become quickly used to plans being ditched and thinking on the spot. This process requires that you are able to develop an environment that stimulates every unique way of learning and it becomes self differentiating. Lesson endings are never linear and are invariably never predictable or the same. There often isn’t ‘closure’ because very young childrens learning is cyclical and they will need to return to a concept again and again within different contexts before the schema becomes learned and established.

The easiest way to illustrate this is to provide an example.

Teacher-Planned Activity: mark making with cars and paint
Child Initiated Outcome: a role play car wash.
The children’s dialogue…..
-I have a blue track,

-My car has blue paint.

-Mine is green it’s going round,

-It’s going over here.

-My car is going round and round.

-It’s made a big splodge.

-Look at my hands they are so messy,

-Look at my hands they are so messy too.

-Let’s paint our hands,

-Let’s make hand prints.

-We are all making hand prints, our hands are all painty.

-Our hands are so yucky.

-It’s squishy.
-I am going to paint the cars,
-Are you painting cars?
-We are all painting cars.
-Look, the cars are all painty,
-They are covered in paint.
-Oh no, they are all really messy now
-They need to be cleaned.
-We need to wash the cars,
-We need to wash our hands as well.
-How can we make the cars clean?
-We need a car wash!”

(They had a car wash!)

What could have been, had I chosen to intervene with the child initiated enquiry, a very closed ended activity with a fixed outcome, became an explosion of assessment opportunity throughout the whole of the EYFS framework. The learning outcome for each child was unique and their personal engagement was age and developmentally appropriate. There was no fixed ‘end point’- there was different engagement with it over a whole day. Children aged 3 and 4 years old spotted an opportunity and led it themselves. I stepped back, observed, facilitated and engaged.
What a buzz!