Swimming Underwater – A Collection Of Poems by Tatterhood

✨Swimming Underwater – online to order now ✨

I felt a bit lost one morning at the start of 2017 sat in the dark with my beautiful child, trying to comfort him and help him find sleep. The tiredness was getting to us all. I started to write a poem in the dark, and it helped put it all in order. I kept writing poems. I can’t believe that at the close of the year I have been lucky enough to have a book in print for Great Ormond Street and also to be publishing my own book, the poems written in the early hours. Here it is, on pre order now. Thank you so very much for reading my poems, for all the support and encouragement. This really is a labour of my love. Here’s to never knowing what’s around the corner and to keeping on swimming. Much love ?‍♀️

Poem collaboration for Great Ormond Street Hospital

I’m immensely proud to be a part of this and to share this poem I have written for a collaborative project with @sarahdennisillustration for @greatormondst – this part released today for #nationalpoetryday ?

RepostBy @greatormondst: “Commissioned by @gosh_arts, @sarahdennisillustration and poet @tatterhood_ collaborated to create a set of resources to prepare children for surgery at GOSH. The set includes this illustrated poem which takes children though their journey to surgery and includes experiences they’ll have and characters they might meet when they come to the hospital…

Tip tap at the window,
“It’s time to go!
Here comes the sun,
let’s say hello!”

The deepest bow,
a wing unfurls,
a cape of rainbow colour swirls.

“Grab the bag,
the shoes on your feet.
We’ll make a path,
to Great Ormond Street!”

Into the bright,
he soars and swishes.
The voice on the leaves,
sings “Follow the fishes”.

To my right the warmest smile,
my trusted guides, in single file.
We float, we fly, we rise, we sweep,
moving toward our hospital sleep.

They check my pulse and count the beats,
we rise above the city streets.
They chart my height and on we ride,
my newest friends right by my side.

We twist and turn to his narration,
dancing toward our destination.
they hand me a gown of colour bright,
I slip it on with pure delight.

And joining now the horses run,
the frogs, the deer, the hedgehogs come.
Woodpecker keeps his conductor’s beat,
while a lullaby sounds in the woodland heat.

Into the clearing we lay on our backs,
tracing lunar paths and starlight tracks.
The frogs in the water splash and tumble,
playing and laughing our tummies rumble.

We mirror the fish at our woodland stop,
making bubbles rise and then bubbles pop.
We dip our hands in the bluest pool,
Four, three, two, one feel the digits cool.

The sounds around us calm and slow,
the heart of the clearing a warming glow.

It’s time to pause, a rest is planned,
the colours and dreams in the palm of my hand.

#NationalPoetryDay

 

Pregnancy and baby loss awareness week

I spent a long while reading stories last night coming through as part of pregnancy and baby loss awareness month. I thought and felt many things, but mainly I thought that in this case, and in many, many others, too much crying happens alone in dark rooms and too much sadness is felt in isolation. We shouldn’t always have to put on a brave face ?

Home. National Writing Day.

It’s National Writing Day today.

I began writing poems in January 2017. We went through a period of extremely disordered sleep and I began to sort of lose my way a little bit. I struggled with the lack of sleep in the early hours and in the dark as I held my beautiful boy. I started to feel a bit disconnected and questioned whether I was doing ok as a mother and well just in general.

I made a choice to try to claim that time and look upon those quiet early hours as ours, to see them positively, as a quiet time to reflect and to just try to be in the moment. I began to formulate poems in these times as the hours ticked by. It was really cathartic and so lovely to be creative again. Writing helped to reawaken a little bit of myself that had sort of been on hold for a while I guess. I began to look forward to this creative time.

I have a lot to thank writing for. And also to those who have stopped by too – thank you for reading those poems written in the early hours #nationalwritingday #tellyourstory ?

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Celebrating is positive. Celebrating is easy.

So life’s pretty amazing most of the time, but as we’ve seen nationally and globally of late (and on occasion personally) sometimes it’s also a bit of an arsehole.

I saw on instagram earlier that some people had posted some very wide of the mark pointlessly negative comments on the frankly amazing Molly Gunn’s @selfishmother feed.

This really pissed me off. We’ve got enough shit to deal with without attacking one another for completely irrelevant reasons. Being a mother is ridiculously hard. Breastfeeding is hard. Bottlefeeding is hard. Celebrating is positive. Celebrating is easy.

Let’s bloody celebrate all the incredible mothers working their asses off to make it through the day whichever, whatever and however they choose to raise their beautiful children and however they feed.

You’re all amazing! Unless you’re trolling, and then, well just STOP IT ??✌️??

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