Where You Are Now
For anyone who still makes two cups. The phone call that splits life into before and after, the quiet months, the coat still on the hook, and the slow discovery that the people we love never really leave.
Gentle, honest poems for grief, heartbreak and love. Short enough to read on a long night.
See the booksNinety-five short poems in each, written in plain, tender language with soft watercolour paintings throughout. Read them slowly, a page at a time. Now in paperback and Kindle on Amazon, and still free to read and listen to on Google Play.
For anyone who still makes two cups. The phone call that splits life into before and after, the quiet months, the coat still on the hook, and the slow discovery that the people we love never really leave.
For every woman who still sleeps on her own side of the bed. The night he said it, the keys on the table, dividing the books, and the long, unexpected road back to herself.
A love story told in poems: an orange shared on a late train, a coat on a bridge, a flat-pack wardrobe, and the butterflies that never quite landed, even after thirty years.
The poems are short, so you can read one standing at the kettle.



Each poem with its painting, read in a quiet voice over soft piano.
Janice Kingsley writes gentle, honest poems for the biggest moments of the heart. Her poems are about the small, ordinary things that loss and love change: the second cup, the coat on the hook, the side of the bed, the song you cannot skip.
Where You Are Now is her first collection. Still Learning to Leave and You Still Give Me Butterflies complete the series, Gentle Poems for the Heart.