Reminder…

Animal Communication, Animals, My paintings, My Poems

imageThis morning this cow came to me, as a reminder:

i must honour my duty, stories have been brewing.

i know her.

as I’m busy preparing and thinking

about this coming workshop,

she came and nudged me gently

“keep going, do not stop

but remember our story”.

song for the unsung heroes

My Poems

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Sometimes, you don’t need to do something ground breaking to be a hero.

ordinary, anonymous, unsung heroes

are the ones who inspire me the most.

the ones who are not attention seeking or looking for praise.

the ones who are not trying hard to prove themselves,

who don’t need the world or anyone else watching them,

for they are not trying to impress or to entertain.

they are getting on with it.

in their day to day lives,

they make sure they are present.

they don’t neglect the ones around them for

the benefits of a greater good, or some bigger picture

for details and small things are

what make big, great pictures.

the true heroes are not super,

but anonymous and local

they help whenever they can,

whoever needs them.

a child, a lost dog, an injured bird,

a dying badger on the side of the road,

a lost soul, an old one, the cashier, the neighbour…

they give their time and attention,

a friendly hear, a wish, a positive thought, a prayer…

or just a smile.

they often appear out of nowhere,

like an angel, springing out of the (blue) shadows.

unrecognised, they don’t share their good deeds on facebook,

because like it or not, they are busy doing the actual work

not just talking about it.

I hope it’s in all of us.

we all have our own heroic solitary moments, when no one is watching.

and keeping them to ourselves might be

what makes them even more special.

The spirit of my local park…

creativity, My paintings, My Poems

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he is out and about more often at this time of the year,

especially at dusk.

his face is the stream that runs through the park,

his body is a tree trunk.

he proudly wears leaves as his crown

for he is the king of his own kingdom.

moss runs up along his sides,

his beard is made out of hair and feathers

from the animals who live there.

his eyes are deep and profound,

for they hold the promise of the night.