The Calls from the Ocean Gulls 2014

December storm it will drift along,
It came and now it's gone,
Even when we glanced up high,
Occasional showers still left that wet our eyes,
Small and large birds,
Wild and some rare,
Sang to us as we moved into the meadow without a care,
The strand so wet but we're conscious of the peace,
And to the distance on Mayne Island,
Faraway sounds that strike the ground,
For the thunder with those soft clouds test,
So those winter leaves are memories,
Only silhouettes along our paths we've chosen to see,
Should please all the large white gulls that wait too leave,
They've cried down to us to stay for a prayer,
Those winged passengers ascend towards the troubled air,
We've chased away their tears as they soar out to sea and dare.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Brydon Park Transformed 2014

The fall which is over,
But the forgotten leaves,
In this place of forest,
Which dwells deeper into our memory,
That day gone but not too long,
Our souls and hearts and our minds filled always,
For almost winter is upon us,
Replacing the beauty around which we will never forget,
And yet it's remembered fondly on that lovely day,
Brydon Park with the autumn skies so blue,
No more are those changing leaves but colours left bare,
For the quiet forest now with reaching trees,
Their boughs so high and limbs that branch out towards the uncertain sky,
And hide no more secrets but all is revealed,
For the snows to drift down and hold a cover so white,
As these woodlands show frosty into this December night.