A thought to share…

I keep stumbling across scrawled word strings amidst half used notebooks and solitary discarded papers.  Occasionally I read them and am immediately, though momentarily, filled with the feelings which drove the scrawls in the first place.  I thought I would share this one with you.



I fear the destruction it will bring.

The reckless havoc it will wreak.

Wallowing in woeful self-pity-

Swimming in my own despair.

If I fall and hit the ground-

Will I ever bounce back up?

Or will my bleak world remain a blur.

No colour or warming sights-

Just gloomy diseased and choking thoughts…

They fill my damaged mind.

Darkness descends and blocks my light and

I wither, I crumble, I fear -

I see NO exit.

How did I even get there?

But more importantly how will I ever leave?

Angels walk among us.

Angels walk amongst us-

Shoulder to shoulder,

They spend their life

Spreading sunshine where darkness rains.

Picking up the fallen

And offering themselves

To heal wounds.

An angel encounter-

So rare in life,

Will forever leave a trace -

An imprint of its’ flightless wings,

A pocketful of kindness,

Gentle reminder to dig deep inside

And recognise our own strength.



I wrote this poem today, as I think about a brave and inspirational young man, Stephen Sutton, who is busy battling cancer.  He is an amazing young man, who daily inspires me with tales of his journey.  I have never met him and yet I continue to be touched by his lust for life, continual positivity and amazing outlook on life.  It seems to me that we could all take a leaf out of his book, and appreciate the finer detail of life…search out the positive and take opportunities which  arise…life is for LIVING, that is his message and he has spent so much time and effort raising vast amounts of money for the Teenage Cancer Trust. If my sons are half the man he is as they grow, then I will be a proud mum.  COME ON STEPHEN, You can fight this. xxxx

For more information please click below and be prepared, you are about to meet one of those angels who walk among us…




The Lady I was..

The reflection which I own

Is unfamiliar.

The words I wish to speak

Refuse to leave my mouth.

My world is spun on memories.

Eyes of concern

Wish to pull me from myself.

They seek me

Deep within my shell.

Reassurance is beyond

What I can offer.

So I simply watch them weep

Weep for the Lady I was.

“I am still here…”

But to them -

I left a long time ago.








Since beginning my blog, I have written many poems and taken many photographs.  I decided it might be an idea to bring some of them together in a short collection, which is available on AMAZON.  It is FREE at the moment (until 17th April), so if you were so inclined to have a look it would actually cost you NOTHING! :) You just need to click above! Of course, as always, I am interested in feedback too, so would welcome the time it would take you to comment. I hope you like it!

In my dreams…

Today I am writing about my Mum. It would have been her birthday on the 13th April and so she is dancing around in my conscious at the moment, shouting for a voice. When I awoke this morning, I had once again dreamt of her and so reached for my laptop immediately to put virtual pen to paper. The dreams have been a regular occurrence since her passing in 2009. In the months following her sudden death, I was comforted by her visits every night as I slept. They weren’t fancy adventures. They offered no deep conversations or revelations but simple moments, shadows from deep within my tangled memory. Perhaps they are playbacks of real events or shuffled pictures stored in my minds’ photo album. Never the less these imaginings offered the one thing my waking hours could never bring. Now, life moves further away from those precious days of having a living and inspirational mum in my life. My journey since that heart-breaking day has proved that life, despite shattering around us when we experience the death of someone we love, somehow pieces back together. The enormous gaping hole, left by lost loved ones, is sewn shut over time. It is not invisibly mended and the stitches are scars upon those left behind. Throughout this repairing process, they continue to be part of our life, as we carry them around within our hearts whilst forging forwards into a future without them.



Together – You and I

Walk with me once again-

Chat about the news like we used to.

When my eyes are closed,

The magic wand is waved

And you return to me.

I have the key to bring you back-

If only for those darkness hours

Amidst my slumber.

Together we share moments again.

For I carry you around

Within my aching heart

Which heals, but will never truly mend.

So please dear Mum,

Keep seeking my open door.

I will leave on a light and welcome you home,

And through my dreams

Together you and I will steal our time.


I am not sure if this will work but I need help!!

I think that I am using WORDPRESS on a very basic level….and that there is more to it that I am not sure how to use..

1) What is ‘pressing’ and should I be using it?

2) What is ‘freshly pressed’?

3) Are categories or tags more important?

4) Any other tips that you may have would be VERY much appreciated!!



Please comment below with any advice.




Old Man of the Forest

Old Man of the Forest

A regular route on our daily beagle adventures, leads us passed this ancient knarred tree. I always marvel at the twists and turns of the bark and if you look closely, unless it is just me going a little mad…on the right it looks a little like a face trying to escape from within the tree. Perhaps he is the old man of the forest, guarding secrets from across the years.