My Poem ‘Manchester’

A minute of silence…
a handful of moments…
a precious gift to those
who tragically lost their lives…
sixty seconds of stillness
to remember the children of Manchester.

Only days ago
young and old gathered-together
to enjoy the music of their idol…
not even a week ago
men and women, girls and boys,
showed their love
and shared the love
that they felt for life
with one-another…
it was only the other day
that new angels were born in heaven.

Time does not stop,
but we cannot move on –
we are all still mourning the loss
of the beautiful and innocent souls
who left their homes
but who will sadly never return.

How can a father, a mother,
a sister, a brother,
a cousin, a niece, a nephew,
a relative, possibly understand
and recover from what has happened?
What can a city, a people, a country,
a way of life, a world do to make sure
that the selfish and murderous deeds
of a demonic coward that walks among us
does not win a battle in the epic struggle
that is constantly being fought
between good and evil?

The only way to keep somebody
and something alive
is to never forget them…
the only way that I know how to live
is to hope for the best
and to pray that the entire world
will one day all share
the same hopes for one-another.

After something indescribable
and shocking happens
being there for those in need
is what is the most important…
today and everyday,
everybody and everywhere,
all over the world,
will never forget
and they will always remember
the lights that went out
and were reborn in heaven,
who were born in a city
and in a country
who they will always be a part of,
and they will always remain
in the hearts and in the minds of
the people of Great Britain
and the great city of Manchester.

Dedicated to all the children and all the men and women who lost their lives on the 25th of May, 2017, and for all of the people who have been affected by the horror that took place in Manchester… you will never be forgotten.

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My Poem ‘A Mother’s Nature’

Every son and every daughter
needs a hero to look up to
while growing up…
every child deserves the best
that their parents can give them –
but the gift of a mother’s love
is so unparreleled and so pure,
and without the gifts
that only a mother can give
no child would know
what the power of love truly means…
mothers go through a rollercoaster of emotions
as they put the needs and the feelings
and the future of their child before their own…
mothers and fathers are both responsible
for the life, the caring, the well-being,
and the building of the nest
that is at the centre of their childs’ world –
however, a child will want for nothing
as long as they always have a place
to call their home.

So much of life is about sacrifice –
but there is nothing more important to a child,
and nothing else that they will remember more,
than those moments of true happiness and innocence
when they were a small child
just before they drifted off to sleep
and they stared into their parents’ smiling face
as they wished them good-night.

Every form of nature has seasons,
and sometimes both fathers and mothers
have to weather more than their children could ever know…
sometimes both fathers and mothers
have to go through indescribable hurt and heart-break
just so that their children might not have
to suffer the same fate of falling
to the depths to where life
sometimes makes people go.

As with most things in life,
there is no perfect blue-print,
nor is there anybody who could honestly proport
to being all-knowing when it comes
to what is best for their child –
but the most important thing
is to always be there for your child
with open-arms, to not judge your child
for who they are, and no matter what
be the one who will always nurture.

The life of a Mom can be hard sometimes,
and it can be filled with just as many tears
as there are smiles –
however, there is nobody who has never
needed and not wanted to be loved
and understood by their parents,
and at the heart of a true mother of children
there lies a pure and eternal love,
and among everything that can sustain a child
throughout their life, truly and in every way,
there is nothing more beautiful,
nor more wonderful to see,
than the gifts of love of a mother’s nature.

My Poem ‘Blind Curiosity’

When the sun went down
it was like witnessing
a great eye closing…
when the daylight
faded into the darkness of twilight
it was like seeing the world
slowly fall asleep…
when the golden light shone up
instead of down
it was like watching the world
appear to start a journey
towards a state of dreaming…
when the sky was finally devoid of colour
and the stars came out to shine their light
from unfathomable distances away…
I found myself looking,
just above the horizon,
to where the sky meets the ground,
and I was drawn high above and far away,
on a flight of fantasy,
to a place within my own imagination –
but which felt more like a part of a dream
of someone divine who could create
beautiful new worlds
from the moment that they touch
the ocean of infinite dreamers
with the toes of their feet.

I always walk blindly into a dream…
I have no preconceptions
about what I might find
when I start looking deep inside…
I have always wondered
whether we could revisit a dream –
even one that we might have had
when we were children
and after we had been read a bed-time story –
and I wonder if an adult
observing a child’s thoughts
would know instantly what they mean?
I envy the playground
that every child has within their mind –
the scope of a child’s fantasy world has no limit,
and within a child’s imagination
every moment can be the instant
of an infinite number of sunrises.

The evening sky is a magical piece of heavenly art,
as the birds return to their nests,
and as the owls, the foxes, the badgers, the bats,
the wildlife of the night start to appear,
when it is dark so many things happen…
there is so much wonder, thought, love, magic,
and imagination that blooms like a flower
constantly under the light of divinity…
there is so much life in this world,
and most of it thrives at night
when the universe recites its sonnets for us to hear,
and when the dreamers of existence leap with joy
into the realms of blind curiosity.

My short-story/poem ‘The Trick-or-Treaters’

the-trick-or-treaters
Just before the sun went down
on October 31st,
on the evening of Halloween,
two brothers, Isaac and Reece,
and their little-sister, Hailie,
left their house to go walking up their street
to go knocking on the doors of their neighbours
and to say in one voice the phrase of the hour:
“trick-or treat”.
Every year, on Halloween, these three siblings
loved getting dressed up from head-to-toe
in costumes of their own choosing –
and this year, like every year,
Hailie was a “ghost”, Reece was a “Vampire”,
and Isaac was a “werewolf”,
and every year when they got home from “trick-or-treating”
they always returned with more candy
than they knew what to do with…
going door-to-door with one-another
was a tradition that these three loved reenacting –
come clouds and rain, or under clear sky and moon-shine;
however, they only went up the street and back again,
and since they lived in a cul-de-sac
the sooner that their trick-or-treating began
in no time at all it soon came to a sad end for another year.

Every year it was all treats and no tricks-
but, since this year there was a new neighbour
that had moved into their road,
Reece in particular hoped that maybe this year
they might return home with more
than just a bag full of sweets.

The new neighbours lived in the house
at the end of the road, up a driveway,
where a lady used to live
who had more cats than could ever be counted –
but who had sadly passed-away;
Reece, Isaac, and Hailie, did not know
the late-lady well, only her name:
“Mrs. Leech” – however, word got around
and it was thought that now
her sister had taken on her house
following Mrs. Leech’s passing,
and her name was apparently: “Ms. Beetle” –
“like the car, and not the British band”,
the mailman had recently pointed out.

It was Halloween again,
and Hailie, Reece, and Isaac
had knocked on every door of their street – but one –
and all three were carrying a considerable
amount of treats to return home with;
however, they had not yet visited Ms. Beetle’s house,
which they had left until last on purpose.

The walk up the driveway to Ms. Beetle’s house
at the bottom of the street was done slowly –
and as soon as the trio of siblings walked up
onto the wooden porch of Ms. Beetle’s house,
and they knocked on the front-door,
neither one of them knew what to expect –
however, they certainly didn’t expect
the door to open seemingly on its own,
and they most certainly didn’t expect to see
Ms. Beetle dressed all in black
mixing away at a giant cauldron-shaped
black container with bubbles and gases
jetting up from the green mixture…
and they most certainly, definitely,
did not expect Ms. Beetle to look
at all three of them and say:
“so, what will it be? Trick or treat?”
Ms. Beetle then began to cackle at the top of her lungs –
and that was when all three of the kids screamed,
then turned around, and jumped off
of Ms. Beetle’s porch, and they ran
all the way up the street and all the way home,
leaving behind all their treats
that they had collected from the night.

The next day, their was a knock at the door
of Hailie, Reece, and Isaac’s house –
and when their Mom answered the door
Ms. Beetle was standing there on the other side
and smiling from ear-to-ear
and holding out in front of her
the three bags of candy that the kids had left behind.
Ms. Beetle apologized for the night before,
and she gave the kids their bags of candy
and she told them that she was pleased to meet them,
and that this year she gave them both a trick and a treat –
but she also said that there was no telling
what she was going to do next year,
and the only way they will know
would be if they were brave enough
to come knocking on her door again,
and all ask her: “trick-or-treat”?

My Poem ‘Rush’

Children dash… children sprint…
children can make moments last…
children don’t even realize
just how much the days of their early lives
race by so fast –
because, to a child, they can act as quick
as they can think, in a flash,
and their drive is the endless energy
that they find at a moments-notice,
even before the adults around them
have time to blink.

Even as they grow up,
some people do not lose their love
for the sensation of the wind against their face,
even as other interests compel them,
some people never give up their love of a chase –
as if they are still in school on sports-day
still competing in a race;
even as their hair-colour changes,
some people can never stop their heart
beating to a charged rhythm;
even as the world creates new obsessions and distractions,
some people live better in mind, body, and soul,
when they are pushing themselves to the limit –
like a soldier on a mission.

It’s why a boxer enters into a ring…
it’s why a rock-star gets up on a stage to sing…
it’s why someone keeps doing something that they love…
it’s why people run, dive, fly, and jump…
it’s because, when you feel like you have got lightning
surging through your blood,
you never want to halt doing
whatever gives you that unbelievable rush.

My Poem ‘I live for him’

Our life has a meaning…
we live for a reason…
nothing can stop us
from fulfilling our destiny –
not even dying…
we should never stop hoping
and believing in the power
of god and heaven –
and there is no better example,
nor a more shining star
of a blessed and saved angel,
that I have ever heard of
than that of the story
of Isabella “Izzie” Cochran…

Izzie died, Izzie went to heaven –
Izzie was with Jesus the entire time,
and she was returned to life
and to the arms of her loving family,
because it was not her time
to live among the angels
and stay in the presence of the divine,
because she has a life-long purpose
to spread the word of the one
who watches over all of us,
and to be a reason for others
to believe in miracles.

Blessings can come as profound surprises…
prophecies can be played out
when you least expect them to be…
one person can bring together a world divided…
it is amazing who you can see
when you look into infinity
and a single star guides you
to the place and to the person
where and with whom you are meant to be.

There is only so much that can be written…
there is only so much that can be shared…
there is only so much that can be understood
about our reason to be here
on Earth as a child of heaven…
there is only so much in life that we can all take –
however, as the bible teaches us,
we are all only given that which we are able to bear.

It is incredibly inspiring,
it is spiritually reinvigorating,
it is a life-redefining reminder
to never stop believing,
it is beyond imagining
to have been given a gift
and to know with all your heart
that the love that binds
each and every-one throughout creation
is the reason why children are born,
why the world keeps turning,
why we are given what we are given,
and why the beautiful gift
who is Izabella “Izzie” Cochran
died and was brought back to life…
because her purpose –
that which Jesus told her
when she saw him
next to a white horse in heaven –
was to live and to live for him.

My Poem ‘Scales & George’

George was brave…
George was strong…
George was a knight
who was always looking
for someone to save…
George was the one
everybody called out to for help,
and he could do no wrong.

“Scales” was your common mountain dragon,
living in his cavernous cave
underneath the Earth –
when one day, after returning from a bit of fun
that involved flying, fire-breathing,
and accidentally scaring half-to-death
the local town-folk that lived nearby,
Scales was payed a visit by a “knight”
who called himself “George” –
who had the smallest of swords
that Scales had ever seen –
and who was as full of heart
as he was overflowing with words.

It was not any every occurrence
for Scales to be visited by anyone –
not even an another dragon;
it was rare that a human
voluntarily came looking for Scales –
however, even from his first glance
at the young warrior-wannabee,
Scales could tell that George
was not just anyone.

“I am George – knight of the night,
defender of the weak,
the hero of the people of Mountain Shadow –
and I, dragon, am here to slay you!”
Said George while holding his sword
out in front of him
as he walked into Scales’ cave
and came face to face with the dragon.

To which, Scales laughed uncontrollably
and even exhaled a few flames of fire
he was so amused by what he had just heard.
Scales, however, was impressed by George’s
pronunciation and his ability to speak
“dragonese” – a gift that he did not know
that any human could utter,
well no human before George
that he had ever encountered.

“Well, George, hero of Mountain Shadow,
I am Scales – nice to meet you!”
Scales replied with a smile
as he looked into George’s eyes
and hoped to put a smile
on George’s glum-looking face;
however, George looked angry
to Scales for some reason,
and he did not appear to be
taking a breath –
which was probably why his face
looked like it was changing colour
and why he was shaking so intensely.

“Did you not hear me, dragon?
I am here to slay you!”
Shouted George as he could feel
his helmet begin to slip
even further down his face.

“I heard you just fine, George!
Would you care to take off you helmet
and your armour, maybe?
You have come a long way from your town –
you must be tired?” Scales replied –
fearing that George might soon faint.

“I cannot do that! I must slay you
so that you may stop terrorizing my people!
Every time we see you in the sky above
our children scream, our women cry,
and our men drink themselves into a stupor.
And I have been sent here to face you
and to slay you, because among our people
there is no one braver than I!”
Said George as he shook from helmet to his boots.

“Really, dear George?
I mean George, defender of the weak?
I am truly sorry to hear that!
I did not mean to cause so much panic!
Please forgive me?”
Said Scales with a genuine expression of regret –
to Scales he was only just having a bit of fun,
and he honestly did not mean to cause such upset.

“Forgive you? You are asking for my forgiveness?
Do you not want to roar? Or breath flames, maybe?
Also, can you tell me how it is possible
that a dragon such as you are
can speak, and speak the most perfect of English?”

“It is not I who is speaking English, dear George –
you are speaking dragonese!
I had no idea anyone or anything could speak
in the dragon-tongue –
however, I am both surprised and pleased!”

“I am? Since when?
I had no idea there was such a language?”
Said George with a look of astonishment.

“And I had no idea that humans had such
a big heart for such a small body?
Today is truly a day for human-dragon
mutual-relations development!”

“You are not a monster at all, are you?
You are not what our children dream of
in their nightmares!
I thought that slaying you would be
the crowning achievement of my life –
but now, I realize that
though we may look different from one-another
there are things that both humans and dragons
have in common and share.”

“Perhaps you could return to your town
and say that you did in fact slay me?
And in return, I promise to never shadow
the town of Mountain Shadow,
nor shake fear into the hearts of its people,
ever again!” Said Scales as he thought out-loud.

“And you would just let me turn around and leave?
You wouldn’t just come up behind me and eat me
so fast that I wouldn’t even hear a sound?’

“George, I promise! Believe me, I had no idea
that I was perceived as such a demon of skies
by your people! I may be a dragon…
I may breath fire from time to time,
but I do not tell lies.
In fact, I have been thinking about
turning vegetarian? Sheep and cows
do not taste that great,
and humans do not do any favours
to my already sensitive-stomach
and my problematic digestion!”
Said Scales with a wry toothy-smile
after he licked his lips jokingly.

“But what if someone from town find out?
If my people ever found out that I lied
they might banish me?’ Said George worriedly.

“No one will find out. Your secret is safe with me.
You go home and receive a heroes-welcome for slaying me.
I will even give you an old tooth of mine as proof!”

“You would do that for me?”
Said George with a lump in his throat
and a tear in his eye.

“Of course I would, George!
That is what friends are for!
And if you ever need my help in any way
then do not hesitate to return her in the future.”
Said Scales with a smile,
before yawning and stretching out his wings.

“Thank you! “Scales” is it? Thank you
for your kindness and your generous offer –
I will not forget!”

“Now head home, young knight –
and tell your fellow towns-folk
how you slayed me easily
and then took a tooth from my mouth
as a souvenir. And, as I said,
if you ever need me I will be right here.”

And so, George turned around with a grin
and left Scales’ cave holding an old tooth of his
that must have been the size of his hand –
leaving Scales to rest in comfort and in silence again,
and thinking about his new-found human friend.

George returned home to his town more of a hero
than he was before he had left –
and telling anybody who might want to listen
how he slayed the dragon of the mountain
(but who to George was secretly his new best-friend).

Both George and Scales knew that their meeting
was just the beginning of a long friendship
that would be a staple of their shared future –
and both Scales and George knew
that it would not be long
before they saw one-another again
and they shared a brand new adventure.

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