The Garden


We talk and in conversations where I take everything in. We talk about everything; sometimes all night and then there are days, when we are just content to be together. 

I love our walks through the park with the dogs. They take us through the flowering trees in the botanical gardens. I think about how much happiness this garden has brought to many.  


There I consider how much the trees towers over us. I love how rough the bark feels under my touch. How they flower and thrive even in the most extreme weather. How the boughs of blossoms stretch out over our heads as it begins to rain; the trees sheltering us from the sudden bursts. How they can stand there; to be still and silent, with the calmness of one; This garden is over a hundred years old. They have seen the way of the world. 


I look and wonder how much this garden has seen, and I think about all the ones who have come and gone; only to adorn it’s beauty. The life of these flowers has survived the years. It’s astonishing how seen the lives and how many moments have been played out around them. Life, loves and all the tears, the laughter and even the poets sitting near them as they write, pondering their next line, the next simile, or the next metaphor.


There is something about the calm and quietness about this garden that makes me feel safe and comforted. Maybe it’s just the way the flowers reach out for attention that is so comforting.  


These words are just some of my thoughts well sanded maybe repetitive; perhaps to be put away into a jar a collection of memories. I will always cherish our walks and talks in this garden and in this park and sharing feelings. Its when held to the eye and we can look and listen; appreciating that right here in Wales that I find there are so many colours for everything and some things don’t change and I’m grateful for being right here with you in this garden. I love that!

Light Captured


The sudden light of cloudburst sprinkles and pastel hues and hopscotch lines creating rainbow designs is the question in the artists eyes while nature answers to her why’s; what is this Light?
Is it electromagnetic radiation that is visible and perceivable by the human eye?
Is it the colours between red and violet.
Does it have frequencies of terahertz, wavelengths and nanometers; equal to one billionth of a metre?
Is there is the sensation of perceiving light; it is brightness and sudden light; the medium of illumination…is that what makes sight possible.
There is the illumination where it’s derived from a source of light; the light from the moon and the pathway of light and when illumination of another when standing in the light.
There is daylight, dawn and daybreak and windows that admit illumination in with architecture and openings that divide panes in a glass.
What about the light that provides information or clarification to research that produces new light on a question. Enlightenment, brightness and countenance.
Light can be a state of awareness or understanding derived from the light of an experience and Spiritual awareness. Is it possible there light can be a guiding spirit or divine presence in each of us?
Perhaps light is a way of looking at or considering a matter; an aspect or perhaps even a way to see into a situation in a different light.
To understand other’s individual opinions means to allow choices and standards; to accept the capacities of others with those who act according to their own light and with equal respect of those who are different. Could that be the light of insight; of understanding, information, and ideas.
They say light is a being; a form of energy; that light creates light and when another form of energy is supplied; There it becomes incandescence. It’s the vibration of entire atom and that luminescence comes from the electron.
This light of energy is illuminating just as the sun enlightens the earth. With light and energy it becomes clear to the intellect or conscience allowing us to shed the light of truth and knowledge.
With the increase of knowledge; it enlightens the mind and our understanding; easing heavy burdens and difficulties we bare; borne and done. That is to be that one who we seek to be; light of heart; graceful, agile and light.
To be that one light even it’s only to that one person; or to the many they inspire; or the one whom we adore. To be the one who lights up our lives and gives it back in return. It is that kind of light that sets us on fire; it is an igniting, a kindling and a burning and a receiving of light.

I watch the sun late in the afternoon, nature and the woods luminous with golden beams streaming through the trees, answering my questions while capturing nature in this light.

Thank you for reading.

Bird, Beast and Buttercup


So there is a field of buttercups we sometimes walk through. It reminds me of the morning. This morning there was an aching for you in my mind. Buttercups come to mind golden and glowing as though if kissed by sunlight just for us to walk through.  

When I was a child, I placed a buttercup under my chin; amazed by its reflection. 

How time passes. Let us just sit in the grass, letting time slip away from us. Block out the world all except you and I. 

 You are my central core of fire from which I was thrust from this mass of earth under blue sky. You are between me and this fire; my rock and my sun. You are soil and water, moss, grass, flower and tree, insect, bird, beast and buttercup. 

Lake Country House Retreat


Came to the Welsh country. It was in the South; West Glamorgan and below the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains and near the east of Pembrokeshire. 
It’s where we will live for nearly the whole of our life. I was summoned home to Wales by your alchemy with verses of love poems and translations from French. 
Sometimes there seems to be a precipitated dramatic change at times. A retreat perhaps is needed. Do we long to return to the innocence of pre-existence? Is it the soul that is in us that exiles and aches to go back home, to regain that unspoilt vision…..
A vision of the innocence of childhood and the natural world; we are both poets, we suffer a sense of loss. But nothing is equal to that first light to which we will return to each other’s arms when this dust settles. 
But in the meantime, I see you in a light; you maintain a twinkling humour and wisdom. It’s a charming meditation of one who dreams of paradise and light, watching for the first rays of the sun in the morning.