Mary Scheurer, originally from Manchester England, has been in Switzerland since 1975.
For many years she has taught Literature and Philosophy at a local college in Geneva.
Now going into semi-retirement, she hopes to spend a lot more time on writing.
Her poems and short stories have been published in Switzerland, England and Ireland, as well as in the Czech Republic and Singapore.
Belem washing line
Procure a good length of stout maritime rope,
drape across your chest and climb the many steps
to the terrace at the tower’s top.
Fix one end securely to the first spire
then circle all the other three securely.
A washing basket waits. Take pride in airing
garments in that sea-spiced Tagus breeze
to be admired. South facing, peg out first
what takes most time to dry. If tourists stop and stare
be quite aware, they wish
to be acquainted
with your outer, then inner self. You are not
in the guidebook. Only you reveal sight and feel,
inform of your unknown. Let them clamour for more,
as did conquistadors about to breach the void.
Jeans and skirts – shorts. Shades of blue (waves, sky).
Turn west: tack socks and stockings to the cord,
thus blows the bottom line. Align yourself due north:
inner apparel. Camisoles pale as clouds,
shirts, their flapping sleeves stretching eager
before the open sea. Now seal this square full circle.
Eastern promise: lingerie, freed to breezes
blowing from the estuary See, the crowd applauds.
Lace, spaced discreetly. Give them a new world.