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

Party Spirit

Glimpsed from a car, a group of revellers
party there on the green.
An abundance of teenagers turn to
look as I approach from
the camouflage of the hedged tennis courts.
And I do come armed
with an apology… and sweets… and drinks
for the party-goers.
I am greeted with a hug and I leave
with a tear-draped eye and
an awareness of how fragile life is.
Birthday celebration.
For one who is no longer around to
celebrate it herself.

Image:http://www.crocus.co.uk/plants/_/myosotis-sylvatica/classid.2000018820/forget me not

Ode to a Toad

I saw you there
And stopped to exchange
Just a word or two.
You didn’t reply
But then I didn’t
Really expect you to,
So I passed on
And left you to your
Silent reverie.

Today you were
Still there – surrounded
By potentially
Tasty morsels but
You took no notice…
And you looked thinner…
I picked you up,
Moved you to somewhere
Where you could
Rest in peace.
croaked frog

Gone but not Forgotten

That’s the last substantial tree gone then. My newish neighbour hates trees. Thinks they are going to fall on her so told me of her plan to uproot everything along our boundary. Previously a nice secluded, if a little wild, place to relax and enjoy some privacy in our garden – now completely open to be overlooked from her back lawn (can’t call it a garden) and the street beyond.
I wonder where the little inquisitive robin will nest this year…

tree-free

Blue

Deep, deep blue is my heart
like the ocean of tears
I have cried
For you
Deep blue

Cherished

Making a book
Filled with
Pictures of angels
And, most poignant of all,
A letter in a childish hand
Filled with
Love and sadness;
Filling me with sadness
As I read of one girl’s
Love for her sibling.
Then I go home and am
Moved to tears by
Their mother’s link
On a Facebook page.
Treasure,
Cherish
Every single moment
Of this life we are given,
They pass in a blink even if
They run their natural course.
How then can we waste a
Single
Precious
Heartbeat?

 

Spirit

MWM
Bittersweet late Christmas present…
…………….
First day of the Spring term and a bag full of presents greets me on the table at the back of the class. I couldn’t come in on the day we broke up – these offerings have sat patiently, biding their time until today. When I get home I sit and unwrap them.
Chocolates by the ton and body cream, vouchers and candles, my lovely class, still the presents come…wine and a beautiful Guardian Angel to sit and watch over me. I leave one until last. The child is away, mourning the loss of her sister and we grieve for her grief. I open her gift, carefully wrapped and thoughtfully chosen. I am ‘someone special’, according to the pen, also enclosed is a plaque to celebrate Christmastime – tears sting the back of my eyes as I read; ”Believe in the spirit of Christmas”…
Bittersweet offerings

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