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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 18: The River

 

She sits upon the river bank,

Picks daisies one by one,

She peers into the dawning day,

Sighs ‘welcome’ to the sun.

 

The windy reeds sway in the morn,

Sweet blackbirds hop and play,

A simple hour of darling joy,

One darling day in May.

 

She sees a shadow on a hill,

The grey of faded light,

But even if the cold creeps near,

She knows she’ll be alright.

 

She whispers to the universe,

‘Protect my heart, this day,

And I’ll sing you a rainbow sky,

To wash your grey away.’

 

woman siting on dock near large body of water
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

The darling blog of May

 

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 4. The Darling Moon

What if

The darling moon

Fell in love

With the Sun?

Would two lights shine from the black?

Or

Would day-time drift

the lovers into the open

blue

Where they would shine

A single ray

on a hill by the sea.

Never too bright, never

a smudge of char on the

cracked stone.

And

What if

The darling Sun

Fell in love

With

The

Moon?

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The darling blog of May

Categories
Life

The Gift of Bother

Last week I was car-less.

Imagine.

A young Mum with things to do. Places to go.

Objects to move from one place to another.

Small children to move from one place…

To another.

What a bother.

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And then it struck me.

These legs of mine, these feet—

What marvellous things they are.

This body: flushed with life; me and the pram

Powering up hills, and down. Getting places

No engine necessary.

What a gift.

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Finding my feet again gifted me other things, too.

Like time.

Time to feel the papery trunks of nature’s watchmen,

Time to see—spindly leaves, dancing about in the open blue. Time to be

Me.

Free.

What a gift.

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But the very best of life on two legs was this:

Extra time with my babies— one and four years old.

Not three minutes together, like the car ride to kinder.

But twenty. Precious. Minutes.

Every day for a week.

All of us wide-eyed, as natures sweetest creations passed us by.

What a gift.

The gift of bother.

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