The Crimson Thud
An apple falls, a crimson thud,
Upon the earth, where silence stood.
It bursts apart, a sweet decay,
Returning to the soil's embrace, without delay.
The worms appear, the beetles crawl,
A feast begins, answering nature's call.
Small creatures gather, a hungry throng,
Nourished by the fruit, where it once belonged.
A robin hops, a fox creeps near,
Drawn by scents that banish fear.
They feast upon the feeders, small and meek,
Completing cycles, natures speak.
Then comes our turn, the hunter's hand,
Taking life to feed our clan.
We eat the creatures, unaware,
Of debts we gather, burdens we bear.
But time moves on, as time must do,
Our bodies fail; our spirits flew.
We sink beneath the earth's cold keep,
Where roots entwine and secrets sleep.
The worms return, the beetles dine,
On flesh and bone, in slow decline.
The cycle turns, complete and vast,
From apple's fall to earthly cast.
A Butterflies Tale
From tiny egg, a world unseen,
A hungry speck, a leafy scene.
Then wrapped in silk, a chrysalis sleeps,
A silent promise, nature keeps.
A hidden change, a secret art,
As wings take shape, a brand-new start.
Veins like rivers, etched in gold,
A masterpiece, about to unfold.
He pushes forth, with newfound might,
Unfurling patterns, bold and bright.
Emerald, sapphire, ruby's gleam,
A kaleidoscope, a vibrant dream.
From earthbound crawl to graceful flight,
A butterfly, a stunning sight.
With dusted wings, he paints the air,
A fleeting beauty, beyond compare.
Autumn
The air turns crisp, a gentle breeze,
As summer's warmth begins to ease.
The trees awaken, gold and bright,
A colourful and stunning sight.
From emerald, green to ruby red,
A painter's palette overhead.
The leaves transform, a vibrant hue,
As autumn colours shine anew.
Then amber hues and russet brown,
As gentle breezes softly crown.
The branches sigh, a whispered plea,
Beneath the autumn canopy.
But change is swift, and time takes hold,
The leaves release, as they are told.
A swirling dance, a rustling sound,
As they descend to kiss the ground.
The branches bare, against the sky,
A silhouette as days drifts by.
The wind now whispers, soft and low,
Through empty arms, where leaves did grow.
Yet beauty lingers, stark and clear,
Awaiting spring, that is drawing near.
For even in this quiet scene,
A promise waits, of life serene.
Footprints on Stone
The world can be a daunting place,
A sphere of life set in space,
Hanging motionless among the stars,
Orbiting the sun, near and far.
Given time, the world evolved,
And humankind was then resolved,
Their, footprints etched on ancient stone,
Humanity's echo seeds we have sown.
Together they committed, hand in hand,
As husband and wife, in every land,
Creating paths and futures bright,
An aptitude for existence, pure delight.
Forming sequences here on earth,
To recreate life through woman's birth.
Embrace the Now
Don't let the "should haves" cloud your mind,
Or let the past leave you behind.
That road you did not take, it is gone,
A new one waits, from this day on.
Those words unsaid, the chances missed,
Don't let them linger, tightly fisted.
Forgive yourself, for being human,
And start anew, like a brand new woman (or man).
That love that faded, that dream that died,
Don't let it break you deep inside.
Let go of anger, release the pain,
And open your heart to love again.
Embrace the now, this precious breath,
Don't wait for life, or fear of death.
Take chances, laugh, and dance with glee,
Be true to yourself, and wild, and free.
So when your story nears its close,
And memories gently interpose,
May you smile softly, without a tear,
Knowing you lived, without regret or fear.
Liverpool
I rise from the Mersey, a vibrant dream,
Where hi
story flows, a constant stream.
I cradle stories, both old and new,
From cobbled streets to skies of blue.
My textures blend, a lively mix,
Of laughter, music, and soulful tricks.
I offer warmth, a friendly face,
A welcoming heart, in every place.
You crave my spirit, bold and free,
My hidden gems for you to see.
From Albert Dock to Penny Lane,
I whisper tales of joy and pain.
And once you've walked my bustling shore,
You'll feel my pulse forevermore.
You'll know you're part of something grand,
A Scouser's soul, in this beloved land.
The Wonders of Stonehenge
I stood there, on the Salisbury Plain,
Beneath the sky, in sun or rain.
And gazed upon the stones so old,
A story whispered, to be told.
Who were the hands that raised them high?
Beneath a long-forgotten sky.
What did they feel, what did they see?
Standing where now stands only me.
The wind it sighs, a mournful sound,
Across this ancient, sacred ground.
I touch the stone, so cold and vast,
And feel a connection to the past.
Was it a temple, a place to pray?
Or mark the seasons, come what may?
A mystery lingers, in the air,
A sense of wonder, beyond compare.
I close my eyes, and try to see,
The people who once stood like me.
Their hopes, their dreams, their joys, their fears,
Echoing through the passing years.
Stonehenge, a place to contemplate,
The mysteries of life and fate.
A reminder that we're all a part,
Of something bigger, in our heart.
Sunset Serenade – Painted Skies
The sun falls –
Slowly,
As night begins to bloom,
Reds, yellows, oranges, and golds,
Clustered together, like a sweet perfume,
Soft, little mounds of –
Fluffy white clouds, ablaze,
Highlighted by the –
Cerulean sky's soft haze.
Each colour entwined,
Dipping in and out of sight,
Creating silhouettes, painting a –
Pretty picture in the fading light.
The moon ascends, its reign begins,
Darkness starts to softly fall,
Creating a canvas, waiting then –
For stars to gleam, enthralling all,
Encrusting themselves into –
Velvet blackness, deep and wide,
Sparkling, shimmering,
Just like the night before, side by side.
Growing old
Why can't we journey back in time,
And leave behind this aging climb?
Why can't we shed the lines we've earned,
And to a younger self return?
The seed becomes the towering tree,
It cannot shrink, for all to see.
The bud unfolds, a blooming flower,
It cannot close, in any hour.
The river rushes to the sea,
It cannot climb back to the lea.
The flame burns bright, then fades away,
It cannot rekindle yesterday.
For life's a path, a forward stride,
With lessons learned, and dreams inside.
Each passing year, a precious stone,
A story whispered, softly known.
Though youth may fade, and time may fly,
A deeper beauty meets the eye.
A wisdom gained, a spirit strong,
A richer song, that lasts so long.
So let us not lament the past,
But cherish moments, built to last.
For growing old, in its own way,
Is beauty blooming, day by day.