| Mary Palmer Profile
![]() Mary Palmer was born in 1957. After nine years as an NHS dietitian, she took to writing poetry. Since her completion of an MA in creative writing at Bath Spa University College, her work has appeared in many magazines and anthologies and has been broadcast on radio and TV. She was a powerful performer of her poetry and a much-loved teacher. Her poem sequence Iona was published in 2008. She died in 2009.
“Mary Palmer, off the book, word-perfect and dramatic.” Rose Flint, Poetry News 2001. “It’s life enhancing just listening to her”. Alan Summers, With Words 2008. Awen title: Iona (poetry) Next Awen title: Tidal Shift - selected poetry (due 8 September 2009) for Mary a poem by Jay Ramsay Lawned paths above a sparkling clear river overhanging branches: this is where you are now and where you can wander as far as you want with no one else around. All quiet healing green. Dear friend without a body as youthful and alive as you ever were with your trim hot figure, only four days gone – and suddenly as we talk, you tell me something so electrifyingly true it lodges and fizzes inside my belly… but lie still as I might I can't quite hold the words you say as I fall asleep again and maybe only the awakening itself matters dissolving inside, from where your dream is real safe as you are now as if among those trees we gazed out into beyond the glass the lawns leading to depth upon depth of green and to this dream inside a dream. Jay Ramsay 18.06.09
A poem for Mary by a former creative writing student
For Mary Palmer
You move
between us gently
birdlike, watch our silent scratching
heads bent, intent
scraping for words
like fragrant seeds, you treasure
our hatched offerings, ungainly strides,
pick between the dust small jewels
and place them, delicate as a breeze,
in full sun
you smile
wistful curious
your own bold passions hidden
breaking on
like torn flesh, gashed pages of
light and shadow, scored by senses
wild, unbroken dreams
splinters of faith and fury
you sing
windswept landscapes
red and silver and gold
amber leaves on birch
silken forests of hanging larch
curtained by mists, a piebald mare
nostrils steaming, stamps her hooves
the frosted earth
echoes on the wind
your burnished lament
Yvonne Orengo June 2009
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