My Poem “A Garden to Call Our Own”

There is no place in this world
more tranquil than a garden filled
with calmness and colour
that symbolises nature at it’s most wild
as well as at its most beautiful…
there is no place of serenity
and rejuvenation for both the mind
and the soul, that is home to birds,
to insects and to animals big and small,
than the place that people sit in,
look at, breath in, and marvel at
all of the infinite wonders that all have
their own uniquely individual details.

There is no other place that people
get to inherit, but also get the opportunity
to make their own, than the place
that changes over the course of its life
along with the seasons that has this power
to be able to remind us all of times gone by…
there is no place of sunlight
and shadow that shows visitors
of our humble abodes who we are
and what means the most to us
than the place that we see almost
every day that if we are lucky
is an oasis of perfection as well as
protection in our minds eye.

There is no place for people with
“green fingers” who enjoy planting,
watering, watching, and tending to
the plants that they sow and see
start out as a seed and then over time
grow just as substantially above the surface
of the Earth that they are planted into
as they do below the ground
whilst creating a vast network of complex roots…
there is no other place that people
can spend hours within and never stop
feeling as if they are truly at home
than that patch of land that they feel belongs to them,
where they can do whatever we want to do,
wherever and whenever we want to do it,
than that special place to us
that may be as big as a park
or a small as a window box,
but nevertheless is a garden
that we can all call our own.

My Poem “Talking Flowers”

Did you know that flowers can talk?
Flowers talk to bees,
bees listen to flowers –
and together both flowers and bees
commit to a mutually beneficial
relationship of pollination
in order to create the sweet nectar
which some people collect
and convert into honey
which some people sell, consume,
and take great delight in
spreading upon their toast ever morning.

New seeds are planted, more flowers grow
and bloom, and new honeybees
are drawn to the song
and the buzz that certain flowers
are born with the innate ability
to be able to sing and to speak –
and so the cycle continues,
as it has done since the first flowers
of the first garden were first grew,
because flowers and trees are like
everything that grows and is alive:
even though every living thing
is an individual in their own right
everything in this world
is just another expression
of the face of nature
and everything has their own part to play
in the plan of all things.

In general, all living things
are always listening
and they are always speaking…
flowers and plants are like people,
and in so many ways they perfected
the art of living and reproducing
themselves long before we did,
which is why it is no surprise
that flowers and plants have long been
experts on how to live, how to grow,
and how to communicate
and how to proliferate effectively
and yet seemingly silently.

My Poem “This is how it starts”

As we ring in a new year
there are fireworks, there are smiles,
there are wishes of hope, of joy,
and of endless hours of cheer…
As one year ends and as another year begins,
as the sun continues to perfectly rise and shine,
everybody hopes for the best days of their life
and they want every moment that they live
to be one that they will remember
as a time in their life
in which they were truly living…
As the world continues to turn
and change faster than we are able to perceive,
as the people that we have known all our lives grow older,
and as we all hopefully grow wiser,
everything around us shifts on its axis
and we all begin to realize
that every day is both a beginning and an end,
and the start of a new year can be
the first step that leads to wonders of light
that appear like stars that twinkle in the dark –
and for me that is how every first day
of every new year starts:
with a flash of light, like that of a burning spark.

Happy New Year! 🙂

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 ‘Frogs’

Where are all the frogs?
I haven’t seen a frog in what seems like years.
When I was younger I could always rely
on seeing a frog in my garden after it had been raining,
beside a container filled with rainwater,
or on the damp ground underneath a moss-covered log.
I do not know what it is,
but for some reason the thought of a frog, or frogs,
makes me think of myself as a boy,
and of the times while growing up that I hold most dear.

When I was growing up frog were very popular –
on television programs, and in movies –
frogs were famous, they walked upright on two legs,
and they even had names:
names like ‘Freddie’, ‘Robin’, ‘Jeremy’,
and of course the most famous frog of them all –
and the star and the most well-known of all “The Muppets –
Kermit the frog;
when I was growing up frogs were cool, and all the rage;
I was always fascinated by the sight
and the sound of a frog when I came upon one –
I must admit, it did take me a while
to distinguish between the discovery of a frog,
or whether it was in fact a toad.

If I went down to my local duck pond,
if I went out into my back garden,
would I find a frog if I looked for one?
If I were to listen, would I hear the “ribbit”
of my favourite amphibian?
Is there somewhere where all the frogs go for the winter –
some kind of “amphibian paradise” that has lots of water
and insects for them to live on and devour –
I wonder, because I have not seen one in what feels like ages;
I just hope that one day I will see a living, breathing,
frog right in front of me;
I would think though that the thought, or the likelihood,
of seeing a frog would be more likely here
in our ponds and gardens,
than in another country – especially France.

Frogs of the world have been seen, and they thrive,
all over the planet, and they all sport different colours
and patterns on their skin, which makes them
easier to differentiate between themselves:
some have spots, some have markings that make them stand out;
there are frogs of the rain-forests of Earth
in which you would find frogs of any and every colour:
even frogs that could be seen in the dark –
golden, luminous, and of course the green
that most people might expect a frog to be
if they saw one, no doubt.

Frogs are incredibly important to this world, to us,
and even now we are learning more about them,
and while investigating their natural biology
we are learning about how they could potentially heal
and cure us of so many of the planet’s most
dangerous diseases and infections,
and perhaps we will all one day
thank frogs for the miracle of each of us beating the odds?

I hope that there are frogs out there that are right now sleeping;
I hope that there are frogs out there that are jumping;
I hope that there are frogs out there that are spawning;
I hope one day to see another frog eye to eye,
and to never know a day when I, or anyone,
will never see another frog –
however, I have a feeling that we will never see or hear
the last of frogs.