Jenny Hockey Poetry

Jesus with Guinea Pigs


There’s always something to be done in our house.

But in between, my mum gets out her paints, completes

another Jesus and props his wet radiance on the easel,


his wounded body hanging there as I walk in from school,

fists clutching roadside grass grubbed up for Ginger

and Bobby Charlton squeaking their heads off in the shed.


Always that quiet conversation going on — something about

The Other Side, evidence of uncles who have crossed over.

Mum and Mr Sperring, the worry of his gifts.

The North, 64, August 2020

'Going to bed with the moon', my debut collection is available from Oversteps Books ( and via my                          for £6

My poems also appear in 'Love', the latest Hexameter anthology, 

available via my                           for £5