I just missed the bus
And I’m already too late
Little flower greets
Hello, little one
I love your yellow!
If ever there was a day
For a twenty-five hour day
It would have been today!
And that’s because from when I awoke
To when I now sit
I’ve been on the go, go, go!
So many people have commented
So many people have liked
So many people have followed
And I have been unable to thank
Or comment
Or like
Or follow
Because I have not had a minute to spare
Let alone an EXTRA SIXTY!!!
But now it is near the end of the day
Midnight creeping up fast
And it’s my Blog’s Birthday!
My Baby Love!
My Pride and Joy
My Piece of Me!
And I am Happy!
So to celebrate
I bought myself a book!
A book of Poetry!
So I can read some Poetry!
And maybe learn to write some too!
Happy Birthday Me!
MovingTowardsTheLight.com
Passion through Poetry!!
It was but a year ago
When I introduced myself
As a Software Developer by day
But a writer at heart
Not one poem printed
A few prose under my bed
Covering my diary
And filling my head!
“Start a blog!” he said
“A blog, you say?”
“Yes”, he replied, “a blog!”
MovingTowardsTheLight.com was born
Embrace Your Passion
Move towards the Light!
Because the Sun belongs to you!
Happy First Birthday me!
Being moved by music throughout my life, different songs and tunes evoke different memories and thoughts and feelings in my mind. There are so many favourites that would come to mind, so I decided to think back on the first song I could ever remember. And there is only one – it would have to be “Don’t cry for me Argentina”, the original version by Julie Covington. Born in the seventies, I was but a little lass when I would stand in the privacy of my bedroom and sing to these beautiful lyrics. I would imagine myself as an adult, being able to sing and perform, and imagining my voice as crystal clear as the singer of this song.
Listening again to the words and voice, I am transported from where I now find myself – a wife and mother, to that place of being a child. Dependent and loved, with all the innocence of childhood and youth. And there is a small part of me that would hold on to that. As living beings, we will grow and mature and age, but there will always be some remnants of the child within us. That small secret part that needs to be loved, and cherished, and carries the hope of life – before the realities of survival appear. The innocence of a young child. May life never deal with us in such a manner that we would have that soul piece taken and destroyed from us, but may we always manage to find a place of hope and wonder within.
‘I love you and hope you love me’