He stood patiently. Bow politely poised, the pink blush of the roses brushed the shiny green leaves, heart shaped blossoms fell like soft down at his feet. —- Each branch had reached out in fear, growing piercing thorns to scratch the arms, which it thought intended it harm, increased in number sharpened darts. —– He… Continue reading The Listening Rose
Category: Uncategorized
Refugee Children in the Hold.
A child can only look on knees, frail, loud, loving and free, hunting beetles, shedding tears, smelling the earth, ‘It’s nearer to me!’ —– A child can only look on knees, and spider webs’ silvery droplets, marvelling at the moon and stars, splashing in cool, cerulean seas. —- A child can only look on knees,… Continue reading Refugee Children in the Hold.
The Swift Migrant.
A swift circled the blue, blue sky, another joining a long pilgrimage, journeying through jagged mountains. countries and places endangering their fragile, feathered lives. Those arriving are welcomed. Watching their flight we raise happy faces to a cerulean heavens of their grace. ==== Travelling thousands of long miles, they, like each refugee seek shelter,… Continue reading The Swift Migrant.
The burning heart
The silence grew, the issue lay hid, no one spoke for a dying child. —– Each click of the fingers, each moment in time, they die of hunger, violence or harm, abused and broken, sexually mauled and their tears don’t make headlines while a fantasy does. —– Narcissistic natures boldly claim the front of every… Continue reading The burning heart
The Widow’s Mite/Oppression Destroys
Her life in turmoil, sad in a poor home, no money to spend, two halfpennies left. ———– The lawyers look on with glee, another widow, vulnerable and poor, steal her home, send her to in-laws oppress her till she numbly goes. —— They set the bar high, in the temple treasury, 2 coins is a… Continue reading The Widow’s Mite/Oppression Destroys
Choices
Sifted news, we drink it in, Turning back the pages again, looking for a truth or nothing, wondering who really is there at the top, making honey pots of money out of slaves and misery. —— Is it true they’re starving? stick thin legs on children, drought bared fields, and animal carcasses, littered, rotting, stinking… Continue reading Choices
Butterfly Memory
It brushed my arm, lightly caressing as it winged lazily flapping by me, bright blue amongst the long green grasses of the overgrown verges. — My eyes followed its gentle passage, none but me to see its fair fluttering, resting so sensitively on each sweet, nectar filled flower in the hedgerow. —- Camera at the… Continue reading Butterfly Memory
The Shy Bluetit
The darting cobalt blue, streak of yellow gold swiftly passes snatching tasty seed then – flees to hide, green amongst the laurel leaves which tremble and close in its wake. —– Peeping out eye bright, he fixes upon a nutty gem. The seething bush releasing a wild friend, who like a salmon leaping over a… Continue reading The Shy Bluetit
Fraud hurts.
It seemed innocent in my in box, from a friend, someone I knew, some photos, or a link to them and I stupidly thought, ‘How Kind!’ = I pressed the link and felt so bad as others told me I had been had, a virus poisoning my little iPad and others around that I loved… Continue reading Fraud hurts.
Echoes in Faith
It is in the silence that he is usually there, in the angel music he will ordinarily speak, but like many who wander and wonder there is an emptiness and disconnection. = Shadows of shapes where he used to be and a faint echo that which led to stability, a heavy heart hangs low, he… Continue reading Echoes in Faith