Six Word Sad Day

February 2013

Words as balm do sorrow ease…

Goodnight My Baby Boy

I don’t know what to say…
Shall I? Shan’t I? Will he back to his old self tomorrow? He looks quite perky!
His character has completely changed – obviously he is pain. He has lumps all over him – the vet says cancerous. He gets so worked up and petrified when away from home, surely his murmerous heart can’t cope. He hasn’t chewed his new toys to pieces like he always does. Hardly a nibble really…for him…his teeth must hurt him and one has dropped out…
His tail is sort of wagging!
He’s shivering and so am I.
She wants to hold him while they ‘do’ it.
He just flops…

R.I.P. my Scooby…are you running across that giant meadow in the sky without a care in the world alongside my first boy Dylan…?Scooby as a youth

Not Facing the Future

Keeping busy
Me, Floz…Scoobs.
Avoiding thought of vet

In Charge

Today the class learned about magnetism. So did I. Opposites attract and all that.
Although I wasn’t an expert, it didn’t matter as 7 year old Molly was. Any answers that I couldn’t provide, she could – so I challenged her to compile a chronology of magnetic discoveries. That will keep her occupied for a while…

A Little Advice

An elfje (11 word poem) on the pitfalls of being a parent

without judgement;
often the hardest
job to be done.

A Bird in the Bush…or Not

In the bush next to the truncated ash, there sits a little blackbird. I stop and look at it. It stops (it wasn’t really doing anything) and looks back. Dog resolutely gazes straight ahead (sharp orange pecking beak on that thing in the tree!).

Is it a baby? I step a little closer.

Has it hurt its wing? One side appears a little askew now I can see it better.

Another dog walker is heading down the lane towards us.

I step a little closer and peer into the bush. The bird flies off and I am left staring into a bare bit of scrubby hedgerow with my dog pointing the other way.

Now level with us, the other person looks at me quizzically.

“I thought it couldn’t fly.” I offer by way of an excuse.

The woman carries on without response but, almost imperceptibly, quickens her step.

A Worldwide Web

A net of gossamer silk

to contain our stones

and reach across

the vast distance of time

and space so

that in the blink of an eye

we can read each other’s stones

and hold them in our hearts,

in our minds eye

and treasure them

as though they were made

of the most precious thing –





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