Sand

By the light, of the sensual moon,

Her skin,matched the colour of the gilded

Sand.

Shadows,mirroring the gleam

In her deep blue eyes.

Her pert,sand duned breasts

Reflecting in the calm,crystalline

Waters of the ocean deep.

I walked towards her,

With a longing,to run my fingers

Through her ivy clad locks,

Along her curvilineal  buttox-

only,when I tried

She erodes, back into the sand.

The garden

Tears slide down the window, the rusted latch hanging hopelessly in its state of decay.

The garden dying,fading,wasting away. Tools lined up like soldiers awaiting their final orders against the garden wall, that never come.

Old gloves lying upon the compost heap

A stark reminder of those hands,those rotting hands,that once tended this land with pride.

The wooden glass house,made out of tree corpses,now stands empty,except for the ghostly appearance of spiders webs,forming curtains of dust and rotting flies.

The mole

The Mole
Never looks back,
What with having
Poor sight and limited brain
And all ..
It keeps ploughing – on
Using its nature given tools
Searching for food
And digging up people’s lawns.

Although in darkness,
For most of the time.
It eventually breaks through
to the daylight.

What am I trying to say with this analogy?
Well; keep digging,keep using your tools (gifts) and continue searching for the light. And eventually you’ll ‘dig yourself through’ have the mind of a mole,and keep digging.

True to our hearts 🐞

As a ship

sails across the ocean

it’s dependent upon the wind.

without that wind

a necessary driving force,

the Ship is powerless

to move.

We,like that ship, have to

follow the directions

of our hearts.

Always being true to our

own unique selves.

no matter what the storm

may throw at us,

We must always be

true and stand firm,

so that when the storms

come, which they will;

to batter our sails-

we will be able to

face, without fear,

look it square in the

knowing that we have

always been authentic

and followed the beat

of our heart.

Written by, Adam H

Firefly 👭

The children played
By the garden shed🍄
By the garden shed
There was a stream

They spied a little
Fairy man 
Whom beckoned
them into his dream.

He took them down
a leafy – lane, 🍃
then along a wooded-
bank
toward a fire burning bright
In the middle ⛅
Why; what a sight –

A garland made out of
Daisy chains 🌼🌼🌼
More little people
Standing there,
Dancing to a folky tune
In the shadows of the moon 🌙
Without a worry or a care..

The children sought
to touch the tree
That was to them –
a mystery.

The little man
Who was standing by
Said; “that creature is my
Fire-fly,
He lights-up this
Wood at night 🌙
You should see it,
What a sight!”

The children stood
and watched in awe
as the firefly took flight
It smiled at them
Then with its tail
turned-on all the lights.

(Dear reader,these were the days of old
There weren’t electric lights,
Only these mighty fireflies
Sadly,now a rare sight)

The children saw
’twas getting late
they asked if they could go,
The little man said;
“Sure you can,
Let’s get you off to bed-
But feel free to come again
You’ll find us in your dreams,
Where you’ll end up
No one knows
Nothing is as it seems!”

Wings of a butterfly 🦋

I can’t help but think
The butterfly 🦋

Is like an abstract

Painting

A living watercolour
that lives but a short moment
Then is gone.

Yet for those few moments,
She’s a masterpiece
Of nature 🐜

Spreading those colourful
Wings
Giving us a mental lift

Carrying our sorrows 🐝
Away,far away.

So if you see a butterfly,

Be gentle with her, 

She’s carrying a heavy load

Upon her wings. 🐾

Journeying through, 🐢

‘We’re all living life 🦋

Journeying life’s long highway

Take a rest and breathe’

Whilst on our walk,🐾
My wife and I,
chat about life,our children,
One alive,and one passed away.

We never forget,the day they were born,
Those sacred moments we shared
together.

One journey, continues,that of our 🐜
Daughter; and one journey has ended;
That of our son.

Yet the same theme continues, as one
Looks at nature, and sees its continuing
Constancy.

Life continues. The birds feed their young, we
Feed our young, The buds on the branches
Continue to break-fourth into new leaves,
And the squirrels continue to inquisitively
Search for nuts. 🐝

One can’t help but break into a smile,
When one watches,the joys of nature,
Seeing,we’re not all that different.

I watch the two local Jackdaw lovers, perched
Upon a telegraph wire, noticing the ‘man made’
Alongside the natural.🐞

A Rook, with battered beak,preens the two
Jackdaws, and I marvel at how loving and
Gentle these two different kinds,can get along
Together,so well. 🐥

We can learn a lot from animals.

Our son may have passed away,but life is too
Precious. I want to experience more of these glorious
Life moments,and I encourage you to, too.