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Ordinary Miracle

gratitude for the toothpaste
pleasure at my soft mattress
joy of the first sip of tea
delight as my cat stretches

to remember the miracle
of ordinary things
unhook the small mind
move

into the space
where
miracles are happening
each second

my body is breathing me
in, out, every moment
in, out
in

Sarah Caddick

Currently Popular Poems:

To Dance Beneath the Pine

In a storm I glimpse my soul Searching for lost branches Fallen to the wind Decomposing with time. Michelle  

Lockdown

All shut away we weather a storm Seeking projects or hobbies not our norm We are kept away from all we love Not a kiss or cuddle visit or hug. For those departed a once happy place No rhyme or reason age, sex, or race. The economy takes a downturn All business closed money we can’t earn. We all look to a brighter time as we reflect Remember to complete things we neglect Lucky we are to have visual means As we stay in touch talking our dreams. Things we will do when danger is over A trip to the beach or lay in fields of clover. A visit to places we said we would A fast pace before no time we could. Make a change to our old style of living Grateful to life, loss to those that have given. Give to charity help those in need Caring is a reward without greed Those that give without care or thought Heal those who have lost asking for nought. To binmen, shopkeepers to all who continued Give cheers and praise for all they’ve done. Fearing not for their safety but working as one. Our children ke...

Forever Searching

Search the walls Scan the corridors Express the highs Scribble the lows Writing explores The state of my mind.   Judith  

Post Traumatic Stress

Your steps alert yet furtive, Your actions so subdued, The walls you'd built around yourself, No others heard or viewed. Your senses sharp and heightened, Reacting to small cues, Kept memories lingering in your head No others heard your news. Self protection served its purpose, Of course, and that made sense, But little did you know that, It was all in the past tense. Relief it was short lived, in fact, The price that was to pay Was that years had passed before your eyes With not living in today. So walls built strong like concrete, Impermeable to most, Restricted you so badly, With the past a haunting ghost. Those dreams seemed like reality, Like you were still right there, The terror you experienced then again, Unjust and unfair. In later years you found a way, A chance to start again, Each gentle step to live once more, Crawling gently from your den. Putting back the chaos, That ran amok inside your head, Gave you strength to start to live, And deal with all the dread. Then pea...

Seasons

To each a season: the planets Turn in Kepler's gyre, Swelling the mental weather, Fattening the wealth Of light and dark I weekly Feel in my own solitude. To each a season: a death Of what was hard and cold: A burst of sun to break My hoary sadness And gild the shining tower I build around your smile. But let's not talk of sun But speak instead of life And all the things I feel When living through mortality. The lovely times We feast and meagre times We only feed on memories. I have my seasons. Tim Holt-Wilson

Jungle Walk, Henstead Exotic Garden, Suffolk.

Broad-leaved trees, spreading palms, fingers outstretched, shield me from the sun’s heat. Beneath a green umbrella’s shade, the perfect spot on a blistering summer’s day, so cool, serene. Round, fluted lily pads rest flat on inky waters where golden fish glide, finding refuge in silence. A tiny oasis, place of shelter enfolding, embracing me within its safe circumference. Julia Duke

Community of Stones & Souls

Timeless, resilient stones; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of stones. Timeless, resilient souls; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of souls.   by Adrian

Ravilious Rules

Yesterday’s heat evaporates taking with it the fierce glare of the sun. Yesterday, sunlight glanced off hills, danced on rivers, but I am used to this gentle Welsh spirit that now envelops the landscape, soft green mist that returns to the hills, softening edges, softening mood. Curvaceous, a line of grey green hills etched in waves of leafiness, dark green towering oaks, hedgerows draped with dog roses, flat, rounded clusters of elderflowers, the gracious sweep of the bronzed maple. Tutored by nature’s harmony, my eye picks out the tell-tale signs of human intervention, marks alien pylons astride hilltops. Tall, straight telegraph poles push their way up through trees, geometric road signs warn of hidden dangers, along straight, tarmacked roads. The sign for Maesmawr Farm shouts its rectilinear message, tempting me with luxury lodges. The arrow points straight to them. Even the forestry commission superimposes its orderly rows on nature’s wayward curves. But the rolling hills triumph,...

Tang Yellows and Sung Blues

Beneath the dome of autumnal beech amber hues and jasper green tang-yellow leaves. The sung blue-grey sky and speckled shade on the tender crisp-lined track. Egyptian buff-brown Vigorous and stout trunks Lengthening skyward. Stephanie

Shaping the Landscape

  I am enclosed under a canopy of overhanging shade, where majestic trees rustle in dappled sunlight.  I am surrounded by shapes, by twisted fronds  of birds’ nest ferns and leaf spikes that  thrust sharply upwards against the light.   A spring bubbles through cushions  of moss. Dark green waters trail  water lilies; water boatmen  judder across the surface of the pond. Softness,  sharpness, textured and structured, mingle together,  cradling me in  the shelter of their arms.   Julia Duke