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.

Signs of Spring 


These flower petals displayed,

A symmetry on this infinite earth. 

It’s an intersecting gaze 

On omniscient eyes. 

Spring dawning of a natural kind

From a voice that breathes life 

So that each might prosper.

Red Geranium

This morning; I was gifted with a pot of red geraniums. Graced with such a happy flower; I wondered where should I plant them. Walking through the garden, finally I can see all the signs of summer are here. 

I have come from Texas all the way to be in Wales. Almost three years now and it’s been a very long journey, but worth every mile. I know geraniums love full sun, but require watering every day. I don’t think water will be a problem here in Swansea. It rains here almost everyday!

Summer here signals a new beginning; and every day starts a new day and this is the time of winter has to come to a close from start to finish. It’s time to plant. 

They say the geranium flower appears to have some different meanings; but one must not rely either on circumstances or their colour to refine their meaning. 

Just plant them in full sun of course. I think I will just be thankful and Cheris their beauty. But if a red geranium were to have meanings; what could they be?

Red Geraniums…

* Love

* Gentility

* Ingenuity

* Favour

* The Unexpected 

* Light and Hope

* True Friendship

* Happiness 

* Grace

Enjoy. 

Harrowing Fields


To set the harrowing field

The implement for breaking up 

Of old ways; an old soil to be reclaimed;

It’s smoothing out of the surface

Of new things brought forth. 
In this way it is distinct 

Harrowing has its effect, like a plough 

That is used for deep tillage

Harrowing the field. 

It is the making over of a rough finish; 

The purpose is to break up clods,

Remaking lumps of soil 

To provide a finer finish, 

A better structure,

Suitable for the greater good. 
It it a removing of the weeds

It is Planting and replanting,

Covering the seed

And the sowing. 
Like a pupil or apprentice 

A seedbed to be prepared, 

Learning instead of disturbing, 

Teaching instead of distracting. 
A harrowing is not to wound, 

But meant to endure change,

A feeling not without a cause,

It is for growing and not for defeating 

And the willingness 

To never settle for less. 

About Translation 


I bend my mind below,

Longing to hear your songs. 

It is where we reclaim it back; 

That is what you teach. 

You are my ecstasy, 

My reason for being

Returning to me,

With the anticipation 

Of life and love. 
And above all; I believe in you,

That this is that place; 

Where nothing can stop the art,

Nor the artist; this gift of creating. 
We will live this life 

And all that we imagined. 

No one can stop one’s will

From harrowing wounds;

And distress though it maybe great,

Is not yours, but it is others. 

All I do, is long to hear you sing. 
It is your voice translating 

Into beautiful lyrics,

Like French poetry on fire;

It is music fluid and flowing. 
For we are here for each other

And forged from this earth 

For each of us…

Is made of clay. 

About Dandelions 


It’s about that hollow above your heart

That caving in your chest,

A hand that is always gentle,

Maybe you think I’m something fragile,

Perhaps something worth keeping intact

To be that someone you’d protect.

The dandelion breath has been blown,

To go from coast to coast to find it

One who gives you a hand,

To know distance does not exist,

It’s a distracting of all other thought

And to know all else is void,

As long as you are beside me,

To know that someone is you…

Still believes in me.