My Poem “Mum Love”

I love my Mum!
I love my Mum in so many ways…
I have loved my Mum since the instant
that I opened my eyes and I stared longingly
at her beautiful face…
I love my Mum and to me there is no one else like her…
I love my Mum and to me she
is the epitome of the perfect mother…
I love my Mum and she has loved me
since the day I was born…
I love my Mum and every day she gives
the gift of her loving soul to her family
while not expecting anything in return…
I love my Mum and I always will…
I love my Mum to me she will always be beautiful…
I love my Mum like a flower loves the sun…
I love my Mum, and just as my Mum will always love me
I will always love her
and I will always be her loving son.


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 ‘The Whispering Gallery’

Every Sunday,
bang on 10 o’clock in the morning,
the bells of St. Martin’s church
ring-out loud and far –
and every Sunday,
when I am standing and listening
in the most perfect spot
that can be found in all the city,
over time I have discovered
an amazing phenomenon…
just as every whispering gallery
that can be found in places
that are often places of silence
and peaceful serenity,
if you whisper a wish into the air,
and it is carried away on the wind
in the right direction,
then that same wish will come true one day
after having been delivered directly to heaven
by the wings of a listening angel –
and that almost silent prayer
will echo and create epic waves,
like an ocean being skipped upon by a stone,
and you will have been blessed –
even though the evidence of what has taken place
and by whom may have already disappeared without a trace.

The bells of St. Martin’s church ring for almost an hour –
the are a source of hope for many, and they have a power.
Church bells, to me, have always had a solemn beauty to them;
church bells are like the accent of a place of worship’s voice,
and I think they are wonderfully important;
church bells have a way of drawing people to them like a beacon;
you have never felt such a feeling like that
of being as close as you can be
to the breathtaking vibrations of sound
that are produced when ancient bells are ringing
and hammers are hitting their mark in a bell-tower.

The world is one big whispering-gallery;
the Earth has places on it
where the magical can be conjured into being
with the flick of a magic-wand
disguised as an ink-pen;
some people want something so much
but they are afraid to ask for help from anybody –
sometimes things can only be heard
when they are said in the first where
and at the right when…
so, I encourage anybody who feels something special
when they are somewhere,
even if that place may not look anywhere
that may be at all “somewhere to write home about”
to let their inner-most thoughts and wishes
be set free into the atmosphere
of the worlds biggest whispering gallery.

My Poem ‘April Hours’

It was a Sunday morning…
it was a day of rest…
it was a day that began
with a beautiful dawn’s calling…
it was a day when a great many things
from around the world
peaked my interest:
there was the Royal visit of William and Kate
at the Taj Mahal –
a wonder of the world built as a monument to love…
there was the news-reports of the Japanese Earthquake –
a powerful reminder, yet again,
just how incredible and sometimes destructive
the forces of nature are.

I must have spent an hour or more
just looking back over photos and memories
taken and spent with the love of my life,
who I just cannot get enough of;
my thoughts and my imagination
danced around in my head –
fluttering, pulsing, flashing with excitement
like a handful of fireflies caught in a jar.

I was sitting in a cafe
when a mouse ran across the floor –
some people were so shocked and surprised
by the mouse’s sudden-appearance
that they immediately ran for the door…
I, however, just stayed where I was
and looked on at the commotion with awe
at just how much panic could be caused
by something so harmless and so small.

Blue-sky and golden sunshine
was the order for the day…
being a Sunday, all that I could hear
were the chimes of the church-bells
as they played;
being as it was a weekend,
there were more people out and about…
me being me, I could see and I could sense
inspiration in every direction
as if it were a pheromone
that I could somehow smell.

The month of April is significant to me
in lots of ways…
the month of April for some
is synonymous with rain showers…
the month of April has always been
filled with days of colour, growth, and change…
and of course a very special birthday…
the month of April,
the month of the calendar year
in which we are now living in
is like a flower of power
that blooms over and over again
more beautifully with ever passing April hour.

My Poem ‘Time to Remember’

We remember the heroes;
we remember the villains;
we remember the what,
the where, the when, and the why;
we remember the people who tried;
we remember the people who achieved;
we remember those who fought the good fight
but who died while doing what they loved
and what they believed in;
we remember the good times,
and we remember the bad;
we remember the times
that went by too quickly,
that we remember coming to an end
as we looked over our shoulder and cried.

As the weather turns colder,
as the leaves change colour
and then fall to the ground,
as people wrap up more
and wear more layers,
as we buy fireworks and light bonfires
and we gather together
and we start to think about the well-being
of our significant others,
a spirit of good-will and humanity
sweeps over the world.

We should all be thankful for what we have;
there will always be someone
who will look at you
and want what means the most to you;
we all make new footprints
while walking again down familiar paths;
sometimes, especially at this time of the year,
things of importance come to light
that before you always wondered about
but you never knew.

Gifts of sentiment,
things that still carry a shine of memory,
the unique and the different,
the people who matter to you dearly,
seem to glow brighter
at the coldest and the darkest time of the year-
and now is the perfect time
to tell someone or to remind someone
that as long as they are in your thoughts
and as long as they are a part of your life
that they need not fear.

Gather, surround,
think, thank, be grateful, wrap,
step closer, invite,
reconnect the ties
that were once believed severed forever;
forgive, but do not forget;
make the most of the present;
save all that you can,
because these are the times
of your life to remember.