My Poem “Park People”

Parks are wonderful places...
Parks are beautiful oases...
Parks are where people run
and walk through...
Parks are can be islands of every size
where people sit, exercise, get a sun tan,
have a party, or have a picnic,
and where people who know each
can all gather together to enjoy
their own company as well as
consume thirst quenching beverages
and some of their favourite food.

Parks are also the places where
those who are homeless go to every
night to lay down upon the grass and sleep...
Parks are where people young and old
can rejuvenate themselves and be reminded
of memories and experiences
that they will always want to keep...
Parks can have amusements,
rides, sights and sounds that
cannot be found anywhere else on Earth...
Parks can be where things are lost
as well as where things can be found -
and Parks can also be at both the beginning
as well as at the end of a particular search.

Parks often have benches...
Parks often have plants and animals
that people can make a connection with
with all five of their senses...
Parks are where some people
want to be laid to rest after they die...
Parks all have paths that allow
the people who visit them to navigate
through to them from every side...
Parks are for everything and for everybody
and the importance of their preservation
to all life on Earth is unestimable -
but there are those who may not be able
to enjoy nature as much as they would hope,
and then their are those who
take every opportunity, whenever they can,
to embrace every moment that they
get to embody what it means
and to be someone who might
affectionately describe themselves,
or might perhaps be described as being,
one of the many "Park People".

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 “The Osmosis Oasis”

Time does not always go in one direction…
memory is always fluid…
every moment of every day –
on the screens, on the pages, on the minds,
that everybody sees, reads, and takes in –
everybody learns something new…
those who can see, see more than they realize…
those who can hear, hear more than they know…
those who willingly immerse and intoxicate themselves
with something are changed in more ways
than can be seen by looking into a person’s eyes…
those who leap and escape into a world of their own making
are really living within a reality of influences,
of nostalgia, of dreams, of memories,
of feelings that they can return to
at any time of the day and wherever they go…
our world is constantly changing;
however, like an ocean, or like an Easter Egg
at the center of a game, there always lies
things that were believed lost and impossible to find –
but over time everything rises
to the surface and is found again…
messengers and messages surround us always…
nothing and no one is ever truly forgotten…
every day the world reconfigure’s itself,
and with every new birth nothing, no one,
no world can ever remain the same…
life can sometimes feel like an ocean…
life can sometimes feel like a maze…
life can sometimes feel like a dream
born of the mind and of the imagination
of someone with an often quirky, varied,
imaginative, artistic, poetic, nostalgic,
mind who has the power to allow their dreams
and their wishes to run away with themselves,
inspiring others to create, to build,
and to keep alive their own private oases of osmosis.

Happy World Poetry Day!

My Poem ‘Good morning, sunshine’

I’m not a song-writer,
I’m a story-teller…
I’m a believer,
but I’m not a fortune-teller…
I have been doing what I do
for longer than I can remember,
doing what I do is both a curse
and a life-saver…
if I could talk to God
I would ask him a favour:
help me, help you,
inspire the world
and give hope to the sick,
the needy, and the poor –
because that is what I want to do
and that is who I want to be…
I want to have the words within me
to change the world
and make everybody understand
that every day is like a new song
that has never been played or heard before,
and every conversation in every language
that is spoken is pure unfiltered poetry.

We all have an oasis in this world…
we all have a place on this Earth
that for us has this lure…
we all have reasons for doing
what we do between sunrise and sunset…
we all have reasons for feeling
happiness and for getting upset –
we are all thinking and feeling human-beings,
we are not unfeeling machines…
we care and we worry about personal things…
we all know what is in our heart
and we all think about “what could have been”.

We don’t have long to figure out
what we are meant to do…
growing up, sometimes we all have to go
with the flow of a tune that we don’t really know…
most of the time, if you don’t have someone else
holding you up and pushing you forward
then you can feel like you are walking
and wavering on a tight-rope
between two tent-poles.

I have been around the world…
I have met people both evil and kind…
I have been on occasion lost for words –
but since the day I met the angel,
my angel, Melissa, all I see
is true heavenly-beauty
every time I look at her face
and she says to me:
“good morning, sunshine”.

My Poem ‘Finding Your Place’

Finding your place in the world
is an adventure in-and-of itself;
finding the place
where you are meant to be
can literally be a way
for you to feel things
that you have never felt;
finding a place that feels
like a part of you,
as you do of it,
is like finding a perfect oasis –
and there is no more perfect haven
or heaven on Earth to a poet
than a place where they
can be surrounded
by their literary companions,
contemporaries, and heroes
who are as intriguing as people
as they are fascinating and fantastic
as that which they wrote.

Thrill-seekers love roller-coasters;
book-lovers love libraries;
artists love galleries;
music-lovers love stereos,
headphones, music-players,
and they love the visceral
live experience of a concert;
people without fear
love to jump without looking,
and they love to let go
and be free of gravity
and push the limits
of what is possible
as far as they can go.

I found my sanctuary
when I first fell in love with writing;
I found my inner-author
when I first collected together
my poetry and crafted my very first
anthology of the world
that I had been living and observing;
I found my spark of inspiration
when I was first touched by a divine light
that came directly from the sky
and our nearest star;
I found a new world
hidden behind an invisible veil
when I began to believe
that I had a gift of insight
that could help other people
to see things and to inspire people
to make their mark.

I have met phenomenally-gifted people in my life;
I have dreamed dreams that may keep other people
awake for days and nights;
I have walked in the shadows of giants,
and I have been carried away
by the gaze of Angels’ light;
I have broken though clouds of confusion;
I have prayed that one day
I would never have to stop
caressing the love of my life
and my muse’s beautiful face;
I have questioned life,
and I have searched the inner-
and outer- universe for answers and reasons –
however, just as I was searching
and asking to be shown my ultimate fate,
while looking up at a shooting-star
streaking through space,
where I was always meant to be
and whom I am meant to be with
were already calling to me;
and that is why I would always want
people to remember and to realize
that one day, sooner or later,
near or far-away,
as long as you keep doing
what you have been doing,
when you are supposed to
you will find your own place.

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My Poem ‘The Umbrella’

The greatest escape on a rainy day,
the best cover to tie you over
from the lightning and the thunder;
whenever, wherever, you are
something akin to the sun of a Summer’s day;
a perfect oasis and the most serene place
of peace of mind and spirit;
that which when you hear it playing
is literally music to your ears,
that is personal –
but can also be shared in a different way
with people that you are in constant contact with,
that both stimulates all kinds of emotions and tears –
the thing that is so intrinsic to you
it is almost a part of your soul;
the coat of protection
that helps you brave the winter’s cold.

Like the roots of a tree,
like the canopy of a forest,
like the ground beneath all of our feet,
like the constituents of a bird’s nest,
we all have things above us, below us,
and around us, that ground us,
and that inspire us and amaze us
over and over, and without them
we would not be who we want to be,
and we would not be blessed with life’s
invisible, natural, but always present, poetry.

When the rain stops falling,
when the clouds part
and the sun shines again,
when life emerges from where it has been hiding,
as the writers continue to drive
the swirls and the course
of the ink of their pens,
when the Earth settles
and a brand new set of ripple effects
echo throughout the world,
like raindrops falling on the water of a pond,
when new experiences and new thoughts
accentuate and strengthen already deep-seated bonds,
when you need a shelter to wait for a break in the weather…
take out, unveil, open again,
that which has always served to be your refuge
and your constant umbrella.