ListenThese sounds I love …
the whisper of the wind as it travels through the trees and the rustling and shuffling as it plays with leaves, the gurgle of babies, the babble of brooks, the tinkle of bells, the chatter of chooks, sausages sizzling, Champagne fizzing corn popping raindrops plopping, the laughter of friends having fun and the peaceful silence of a setting sun. All these sounds I love. Lazy DaysLazy days
Are rare luxuries That sometimes rise as a pleasant surprise With the warm sun. Yesterday was such a luxury Where the hours stretched long and languid Ahead of peaceful pleasures And priceless treasures of family and friendship Unhurried. As the last of summer simmers On the back boiler, Spluttering a few times more Before turning off the heat, I try to soak in each drop of Remaining warmth, Deep and sweet and steamy, To store this energy in every pore To power me Through the winter weather ahead. AutumnWhat is this sadness creeping over me?
Is it the night thieving the light Little by little, Shortening our days? Or is it the rays Of sunshine, no longer hot, Just whimpery warm That make me forlorn? What is this weariness licking my bones? Is it the way of age or work? Or both? I’m bone weary and bleary eyed, I’m brain weary and teary tired, Oh, so very tired. Perhaps it’s nature’s way - Things die a little each day, Leaves fall, Grass browns, Life slows down, snoozes, Tends its bruises. The world feels oh so sleepy And so do I.. Life's Punctuation MarkWhen your time comes
Will you be satisfied with how the sentence of your life ends? Will you hope for a comma or a dot, dot, dot … Will yours hang on a question mark or will there be a full stop? Well, none of those for me, my friends, Not on your nelly. I still have a fire in my belly. I plan to set the world alight, spark by little spark. When my time comes, I want an exclamation mark! Chrysalis
Hidden in the tangled, twisted branches,
The sunlight gave it away. It shone on the sleek silver chrysalis, So near, so clear, so perfect, Shiny like polished chrome, Trimmed in black, A beautiful home So stunning, it seems suitably right For the miracle happening within. HammockIn a spider spun hammock
Slung under a fallen log Treasures of the forest Are hung. As soft as a whisper They rock to and fro, And below, The cool, damp leaves Collect as a carpet. Tick TockIt comes as a shock - tick tock, tick tock,
When time runs out - tick tock, tick tock, When you suddenly realise you can't stop the clock, When death says, hey, it's time to dock. It comes as a shock - tick tock, tick tock, When times runs out - tick tock, tick tock, Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, Fock life's clock, fock, fock, fock, fock. |
Post Storm MorningThe sky is swept clean,
The dust laid to rest, Brown turns to green, Mother nature's at her best.
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