Well
I've taken this from The weavers site as I want as many of my followers and friends to see this. Like Pat at the Weaver I've had tears from the beginning. So enjoy!
Friday, December 10
Thursday, December 9
A poem for Thursday.
Blundelsands
The grasses waved for me.
The sands duned for me.
The waves lapped for me.
The birds skimmed for me.
The skylark soared for me.
The fog horns boomed for me.
And three swans, in formation,
Flew past overhead.
As I received the gift
Of the present.
Advent.
Thursday the Ninth Day of Advent.
The man on the path
and the winter sun.
Twelve more days and the sun will turn!
Wednesday, December 8
Advent
Wednesday the Eighth Day in Advent.
" Do you know son, I think we''ll stay up north. It's a lot colder than down south pole at the moment!"
Poem for Magpie Tales. Mag 44.
This is the photo prompt for Mag 44.
I think it's a slippy sliding sleigh...hope it is , 'cause that's my poem.
As Simon and Garfunkel sang, "Slip Sliding Away".
Don't tell me fairy tales.
Stories for innocents.
Romantic nonsense
That you never meant.
Lullabies at bedtime.
Tales for old men
Crutches for my fears
Now and again.
And don't try to cover up,
What is reality,
When life doesn't mean
Very much more to me.
Though I fill my glass,
Yet the wine has turned sour.
And time slips away from me
Hour by hour.
Can I believe today
Those stories of yesteryear.
When songs were sung and friends
Were always so near.
Is this the sum of it all
Here on the top of this hill?
Waiting my turn, praying
I don't take a spill.
Nothing to do anymore
Simply to let the past go.
Loosen the cords and gladly
Give thanks for the now.
I'm thankful for now.
For the gift of the present.
I think it's a slippy sliding sleigh...hope it is , 'cause that's my poem.
As Simon and Garfunkel sang, "Slip Sliding Away".
Don't tell me fairy tales.
Stories for innocents.
Romantic nonsense
That you never meant.
Lullabies at bedtime.
Tales for old men
Crutches for my fears
Now and again.
And don't try to cover up,
What is reality,
When life doesn't mean
Very much more to me.
Though I fill my glass,
Yet the wine has turned sour.
And time slips away from me
Hour by hour.
Can I believe today
Those stories of yesteryear.
When songs were sung and friends
Were always so near.
Is this the sum of it all
Here on the top of this hill?
Waiting my turn, praying
I don't take a spill.
Nothing to do anymore
Simply to let the past go.
Loosen the cords and gladly
Give thanks for the now.
I'm thankful for now.
For the gift of the present.
Tuesday, December 7
Pink sky and Hoar Frost in Penketh.
This has been such an unusual week weatherwise.
I've moaned a bit...well more than a bit...and of this I'm truly ashamed!
It's a photographer's dream out there. And this is only the suburbs. It'must be glorious in the countryside at the moment.
Now I know it's hard getting around.
Just today a friend fell for the second time as she was on the way to have the plaster taken off the first break!
And I walked to another friend's home for coffee this morning...walking like a very nervous old lady [which I almost am, may I say!]
The fog landed on the trees and vegetation and settled there like sparkling diamonds in clusters.
And this afternoon the sky turned a gorgeous colour of pink!
Camera out!
I've moaned a bit...well more than a bit...and of this I'm truly ashamed!
It's a photographer's dream out there. And this is only the suburbs. It'must be glorious in the countryside at the moment.
Now I know it's hard getting around.
Just today a friend fell for the second time as she was on the way to have the plaster taken off the first break!
And I walked to another friend's home for coffee this morning...walking like a very nervous old lady [which I almost am, may I say!]
The fog landed on the trees and vegetation and settled there like sparkling diamonds in clusters.
And this afternoon the sky turned a gorgeous colour of pink!
Camera out!
Nature's Installation.
Thankyou!
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