A Bed of Flowers

An image

Of the season’s

First daffodils

Brings a lump to

My throat.

A rebirth

That springs from the soil,

A smile to brighten

The winter gloom –

A reminder

That life

Is not

Diminished

By being within

The earth.

A yellow glow

Suffuses the

stone cross

And the lantern

Promises

Illumination

When the way

Is dark.

Sleep well,

On this

Mothering  Sunday

Your Mother

Brings you flowers…

daffodils

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Into the Light

27.4.14
Steps of stone
Stretching ever upwards…
Yet there,
In the distance,
A light appears
Casting the shadows behind
Illuminating the path
My feet must take.light

Six Word Saturday – Herald

From Winter storm debris – Spring trumpets…?20140301_162305 (2)

Seven Word Sunday – Blessed

22.12.13

Visitors.

Visited.

Visiting.

Given.

Giving.

Forgiven.

Foregone.

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…
I
Feel
Like
a
MURDERER

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

Clutching Straws

#15
February 2013
Yesterday my car moaned and groaned. Wearily plodding up every slight incline, she protested in the loudest voice which sent both our blood pressures rising at an alarming rate. I took her to the car hospital – I didn’t have insurance for that but still they took pity on her and took her in saying, “Leave her overnight, we’ll see what we can do.”
Today she races around; less like the old boiler that she is and more like the Spring chicken that she used to be, and guess what? It’s actually quite contagious!

Digging

#13

February 2013

Excavating the remains of my life, I wonder what will be uncovered, whether it  should be left buried in the sands of time. I use a soft brush to gingerly clean around the bones, sweeping away the earthy debris to bring to light what has long been hidden. The more that I work, the braver I grow. As more and more of my life is exposed, I feel myself coming back to life, starting to breathe again…

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