This lovely poem is written by my equally lovely and talented 10 year old niece,
TIFFANY BOYLE
Of an absurd bird?
Sitting in a tree
Looking for a bee
This lovely poem is written by my equally lovely and talented 10 year old niece,
TIFFANY BOYLE
Of an absurd bird?
Sitting in a tree
Looking for a bee
I take the stick I use to beat
myself into the ground
and throw it out because, you know,
I don’t need it around.
Continue reading I care for me
When grey is painted through your life
and each small step is tough;
when brightness leaches from your soul
and it all feels too much. Continue reading Painted Grey
Your spirit lives on in the hearts that you touched,
with your humour, your kindness, your time;
words simply treasured and gestures of love:
these memories will always be mine.
Still. Peace. Quiet.
Dew-touched webs
glisten in half-baked
sun.
Continue reading Still Morning
Rich red shooting drops
of curvy flutes.
Continue reading Rhythms of Peace
Those stormy skies and thunderous clouds,
the wind attacked all round;
It pushed and pulled, without respect,
disturbing al it found. Continue reading Stormy Haven
Wherever I roam through the countries and towns,
if a week or an hour or a year,
my heart doesn’t stray from the place that I love;
my home will always be here.
My house, a home – escape for me
with love and fun – security.
Don’t have to try to live a show,
just being as the “me” they know.
Continue reading Homeward Bound