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Beautiful 美丽

So who is beautiful?

Is it the flawless face in a magazine?

Is it a new born baby?

Is it a person you see at work or on the train or bus every day?

There are as many different answers as there are people in the world.

The Bible has this to say about beauty: 1 Peter 3:  Do not let your adornment be merely outward—arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel— rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.

When you look in the mirror what do you see? Do you see: wrinkles, spots, blemishes, pimples, hairs where you don’t want them, freckles, some part of you that is too big or too small or too crooked? How long do you spend changing the way you look?

Did you know that you are probably the only person who will ever see all of those things?

Did you also know that no matter how much or how long you look in the mirror or at your own photo there’s one thing you will never see!!

You’ll never see yourself through someone else’s eyes!

Everybody has regular places that they go but do you ever notice how many people smile just because they see you or exchange a greeting with you?

It’s most likely that all of those people think you are beautiful in one way or another.

Put down your phones, papers, and books and look around as you travel.

How many beautiful people do you see regularly and how many see you?

Make their day by saying something nice about them.

Everybody needs to know that they are beautiful – so tell them. 

Let’s make the world more beautiful one smile at a time.

Share this with as many people as you like.

Email me and share a photo if you like. If I get enough (or any) I will add an album to this post.

Let your smile make the world warm and beautiful.

Thank you Linda for the Chinese translation.

美丽

那么谁是美丽的?

是一本杂志中无瑕疵的脸吗?

是一个新生儿吗?

是一个你在工作中看到的人,还是每天在火车或公共汽车上看?

世界上有很多不同的答案。

圣经有关于美的说法:不要单注重外表的装饰,就如鬈头发、戴金饰、穿华丽衣服; 却要在里面存着温柔安静的心灵,作不能毁坏的装饰,这在 神面前是极宝贵的。

当你看镜子时你看到什么?你看到:皱纹,斑点,瑕疵,青春痘,你不想要的头发,雀斑,你们的一部分太大或太小或太歪曲?你花多长时间来改变你的样子?

你知道你可能是唯一一个会看到所有这些东西的人吗?

你也知道,无论你看镜子还是你自己的照片多少或多久,都有一件事你永远不会看到!

你永远不会透过别人的眼睛看到自己!

每个人都有经常去的地方,但是你有没有注意到有多少人因为看到你或与你交换一个问候而微笑?

所有这些人都很可能以某种方式认为你是美丽的。

放下手机,论文和书籍,随时随地环顾四周。

你经常看到美丽的人吗? 他们看到你的美丽吗?

通过对他们说一些好东西来度过他们的一天。

每个人都需要知道他们是美丽的 – 所以告诉他们。

为了让世界变得更美丽保持微笑…

与你喜欢的人分享这个。

给我发电子邮件,并分享照片,如果你喜欢。如果我足够(或任何),我会添加一个专辑到这个职位。

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Is it the light or nighttime?

Is it the wrong or right time?

Could it be that it’s teatime?

Or maybe by the sea time?

 

Come meet me in the springtime

it shall be buy a ring time.

We will talk until it’s bedtime,

until it’s rest my head time.

 

We’ll be married not before time,

it’ll be our by the shore time.

The priest will surely keep time,

then soon it will be sleep time.

 

Let’s fly away on honeymoon time,

walk the golden sands at noontime.

Through the bright red leaves of fall time.

I’ll hold tight to you for all time,

Silly forms.

I have been having fun with google forms lately.

Try these:

About your boss.

Would you like to

Life, the universe and everything.

Have fun.

Margarita

Tell me is this your real name

Or just some bar-side hooch

Should I be emptying my glass

or thirsting for a smooch.

 

Through bloodshot eyes and mouth agape

could swear there’s two of them.

She took me hand and held it fast,

and all I heard was “M”

 

She gently helped me to my feet,

my knees they were a quake.

Her flowing hair, her angel face,

help me for heaven’s sake.

 

“Margarita,” was all I heard,

with her I was besot.

I tried to say just who I was,

but I had clean forgot.

 

Then it swept right through the inn,

a deathly quiet hush,

I think I stammered out my name,

the rest it turned to mush.

 

I tried to stand and look around,

my mind was in a haze.

Of all the eyes that stared my way

‘twas one that met my gaze.

 

There he was old Jimmy Keets

in his hand a steadfast ale.

He looked at me through squinty eyes,

he looked at me quite pale.

 

Though words were scarce that passed his lips

he always said ‘em true.

Go with her now and don’t look back

your drunken days are through.

 

Suddenly all purpose filled

I stood up bright and bold.

Could’ve hugged old Jimmy Keets

but ‘e would’ve knocked me cold.

 

A gentle hand held onto mine

and led me to the door.

Without her help I would’ve dozed

quite happy on the floor.

 

When I awoke some time ‘round noon

the sun was streaming bright.

I held my head, I closed my eyes,

I wished that it was night.

 

I stumbled ‘round the house and called

but found an envelope.

Might have known luck wouldn’t hold,

no lady and no hope.

 

The Chair I sat in creaked and groaned,

I read the note aloud.

“I’ll be gone for just a week my love,

I know you’ll do me proud.”

 

I doubted I would glimpse her shape

upon my worn out porch

but something lit a fire in me

a brightly burning torch.

 

I cleaned the house and mowed the lawn

and planted me a willow.

My prayer to God asked, “would I see

her face upon my pillow.”

 

I shaved my face, I bought new clothes

at Jesse’s new boutique.

I fixed the porch and chair for two

near the willow by the creek.

 

So there I sat all clean and new

saw  JK and his dear Nancy.

Old Jimmy Keets near died of shock

to see me perched all fancy.

 

Will Margarita come this way,

I pondered sitting lonely?

Would she be my saving grace,

my love, my one and only?

 

No hooch to curb the loneliness,

it quickly came a haunting.

I could hear the lads down at the inn

all jeering me and taunting.

 

The water bubbled as I sat

and talked to be of sleeping.

Then a gentle hand onto mine,

in her embrace now weeping.

 

She looked around the landscape new,

my waist she was engrasping.

I asked her then to be my love

from now ‘till everlasting.

 

Two full moons gone and at the door

priestly robes and gentle tapping.

We talked of rings, and prayers and vows

and soon my mind was napping.

 

The day it came with suits and flowers,

church bells they set a-ringing.

My angel seemed to float right past

a choir merry singing.

 

Now feeling half-seas-over and

my heart near skipped a beat,

to see the lads from down the pub

all lined up smart and neat.

 

That day I found the half of me

that I saw sorely missing.

Some days you’ll find us ’neath the willow

a-cuddling and a-kissing.

The Vow

If I came to you with nothing

but a smile and prayerful tune,

would you take me in and love me

come summer heat or snow in June?

 

If I gave to you my heart

with all its miles and its flaws,

can it be your one and only?

Will you hold it close to yours?

 

Will you stay with every breath love,

be it infirmed or joy or beat?

Would you save me for the asking,

whether jest or judgement seat?

 

Will you stay in the loneliness

as the empty ages pass?

Will we be best friends forever

whether low or upper class?

 

Will you be there at the end love

when the angels come to save?

Whether headstone dressed up fancy

or a lowly pauper’s grave.

 

Will you watch with me a while love

as the mourners shed their tears?

Will you rise with me to glory

as our blessed Savior nears?

 

This poem was written for my sister Carol and Geoff’s Wedding. Hope you all enjoy it.

Wish a Star

I wish, I wish a star that’s bright,

just for you alone tonight,

catch it now, hold it tight,

with all your love, with all your might.

I wish a star that’s big and bright,

hold it close and hold it tight,

to never be alone at night,

love your star with all your might.

Before you ask, yes I did take this picture, just experimenting with my new camera.

Would You Love Me?

Would you love me by the washing of the tide and its foaming?

Would you love me on the hillside, grasses waving in the gloaming?

Come follow as we tread the gentle dawnlight and its kisses,

We can watch a million flowers that the dayglow never misses.

 

Would you love me by the driftwood, twisted shapes that mark its travels?

Would you love me on the tideline, watching as the night unravels?

Come follow in the moonlight as we dance the wavetops glory.

We can watch the dolphins playing as they sing to us their story.

 

Would you love me by the river as it finally ends its yearning?

Would you love me as it mixes with the sea and its churning?

Come follow as we skip upon the tiny sandy islands,

we can watch the crystal water as it rushes from the highlands.

 

Would you love me by the seaward hut with shells and misshaped wood?

Would you love me on the dinky porch because I said we could?

Come follow as we comb the beach for treasures sanded quainty,

we can hang them on a fishing thread and watch them gleaming dainty.

 

A quick note.

Just letting you all know that I have been going some work on my site and it is now mobile friendly at last. yay! 🙂 I have also changed the comment settings so that you don’t have to leave your name and email to leave a comment, they will still be held for moderation though.

Worm-Larder Jane

Worm larder Jane

she rose again,

as the earth did peal away.

She shrieks and moans,

through silver bones,

full moon as bright as day.

 

Her rotted flesh

was born a-fresh,

the bone-house planks now torn.

Feet struck with blight,

this dreaded night,

into the darkness born.

 

Some careless witch,

foul warts that twitch,

gave the ancient hex a try.

Close study she ought,

but lost in thought,

the spell had gone awry.

 

In darkness fled,

where none would tread,

the pathway to her lair.

Graves with dark flame,

they’d know to blame

the witch though none would dare.

 

The hoar-stone set

where boundaries met,

the graves and the fields of rye.

Those times had past,

the centuries vast,

now ruins to meet the sky.

 

Born into strife,

her villainy rife,

the scabbard fit her snug.

So without a care,

they’d stuck her where,

no grave had ought be dug.

 

Here lies Jane,

the sad refrain,

set as her epitaph.

Her granite block,

the ancient rock,

too close by a yard ‘n’ a half.

 

Looked at the plot,

knew they’d forgot,

hadn’t the sense to question why,

the grand old stone,

must stand alone,

her cutlass raised to the sky.

 

At revelers sound,

she spun around,

those souls would take their leave.

The strangest light,

had met her sight,

for it was All Hollows’ Eve.

 

She looked confused,

at the cloths they used,

to celebrate the dead.

They welcomed her in,

with sword and grin,

and the tales that she said.

 

So they’d spent the night,

with drink and fight,

and now they weary slept.

She bid them well,

they’d live to tell,

of Jane and the life she’d kept.

 

Then as she turned,

the graves still burned,

Jane curious to see,

Though dreaded dead,

none would be freed,

hands reached in desperate plea.

 

She walked on past,

no mind to ask,

what magic had been done.

With no intent,

to graveside rent,

life’s second chance begun.

 

Glossary:

Worm-larder, worm-scullery or bone-house: (n), a cheap, poorly made coffin usually with gaps in the woodwork. (Roger Vincent 2010)

Hoar-stone – an old hoary stone, an ancient boundary stone.

 

(The reason for republishing this is that I have made corrections and added verses to this poem, hope it is OK?)

 

Please note: these photo’s have been resized as the originals are 16mp. If anyone would like an original just let me know.

Willow’s Peace

Kiss under the weeping willow

hug me on its grassy pillow,

let your hair flow down my chest

beneath the singing birds we’ll rest.

 

Shade me from the summer heat,

branches almost touch your feet,

a gentle breezes soft caress,

asleep beneath your leafy dress.

 

A spider’s clever fingers grasp,

holding close his prey a-clasp,

Through his home the breezes blow

his silken sunlit web a-glow.

 

Kingfisher on waving perch,

song would fit a holy church.

Through the steeple rise you high,

sundrenched angel of the sky.

 

Willow shade me from the world,

just let me drift, still and curled.

Silent slumber ‘neath your bough

worries drifted off somehow.

 

Clouds they circle far above,
sitting peaceful as a dove.

Secrets kept as time goes by,

willow lift me up on high.

 

 

One score and ten since we met,

my heart will never let me forget,

those bright eyes of green,

I was barely a teen,

and nearly broke out in a sweat.

 

I wanted to jump for joy

but instead was much too coy,

a foolish young lad,

didn’t know what he had,

should have snared her like a cowboy.

 

Too soon she had gone afar,

like the moon or a distant star,

alone and forlorn

both night and morn’

like a beggar at a bazaar.

 

So I traveled the seven seas,

seeing things to both shock and please,

I’ve been to Mayfair

and most anywhere,

even caught some third world disease.

 

Made friends from a dirty slum,

lost both my Dad and my Mum

so say it ain’t right

to feel life bite,

can’t change the beat of God’s drum

 

I’ve lived on both sides of the coin,

and cherished the fruit of my loin,

so the decades past,

and I found her at last,

the one whom I would rejoin.

 

My worries I have put to rest,

with her head upon my chest,

I will rejoice,

His perfect choice,

to her my love I’ve confessed.

 

She says fortune looked her in the eye

and gave her a big slice of the pie,

as the Lord Jesus lives,

I’ll tell you He gives

and there’s none more lucky than I.

Hungry

Lonely and hungry, oh so weary,

worn and ragged, night time dreary.

Tears drip down from sullen eyes,

soul too broken now to rise.

 

Tried to stay here, tried to love,

seems there’s no one, just God above.

Drive a knife through soul and chest,

send me to eternal rest.

 

Try to rouse me, shake me so,

I will not wake, I’ve gone you know.

None to mourn the space I took,

None to turn and none to look.

 

Bones under the ground that rot,

dust and mold that they begot.

Sun and rain will soon decay,

all trace now gone this nameless day.

 

Why should they cry upon my grave?

A lonely soul that none could save.

No fancy words, no candles flame,

just a stone and just a name.

 

Yes I know that this poem had already been posted but I can’t seem to update it, so here is the updated version.

 

My darling M I love you
will you leave a message here?
Then I shall find some peace of mind
and your heart that is so dear.

The Witch of Halloween

Underneath below the pale faced moon,

far beyond the sun at noon,

creeping in the darkness soon,

the witch of Halloween.

Her footfalls near a lonely grave,

entombed a common lowlife knave,

now just bones that none could save,

will live on Halloween.

 

Her bones creak, her skin it tore,

nails grow into a claw,

oozing blood from flesh that’s raw,

this dark All Hallows Eve.

She casts a spell upon the earth,

the skeletons unnatural birth,

a ghastly sound betrays her mirth,

this dark All Hallows Eve.

 

Grey rotting skin and sunken chest,

craving, hunger, cannot rest,

fresh from a tomb that evil blessed,

on All Saints Eve shall rise.

Black cat slinks, wears down its prey,

long since left the bright of day,

claws sink deep where life can’t stay,

on All Saints Eve shall rise.

 

As the bell tolls I would implore,

stay inside behind locked door,

come they through the fields and moor,

the hordes of Halloween.

Fleeting on the steps they tread,

fills your countenance with dread,

devour their victims feet to head,

the hordes of Halloween.

 

A troupe upon the cobbled street,

the witch and her minions meet,

devoid of mind and bare of feet,

a grisly feast by moonlight.

Blood dripping from tooth and fang,

lifeless now the body swang,

taunting victory cries now rang,

a grisly feast by moonlight.

 

Come the mornings soft blue light,

the hordes have left and taken flight,

could only last one dreaded night,

a tranquil sun will rise.

Morning earth its darkness sheds,

back into their wooden beds,

beneath the soil rest their heads,

a tranquil sun will rise.

Frozen Ghost

Lonely ghost drifts through the house

scares a cat, freezes a mouse.

boney fingers scrape the wall,

ice appears right down the hall.

 

Rotten flesh hangs down from bone,

from her mouth a piercing moan

One lady frozen on a stair,

missing heart and half her hair.

 

Like time has stopped for ever more,

her blood it never reached the floor.

A gruesome pose, the sculpture still,

throughout the house a deathly chill.

 

Down the garden path it goes,

flowers turn away and close.

The midnight hour all but lost,

back to its earthly grave of frost.