D
ays of hope with a splash of colour
A
way to welcome in the summer
F
ields of yellow beneath the oaks
F
lying the flag for my Welsh folks
O
rder’s restored with a blanket of spring
D
ay into night the nightingale sings
I
ce be gone! The sunshine insists
L
ife  fills the air again
S
pring time exists

Kindness is a creature who walks beside of you
He’s always there to help, and guide the things you do

When trying to be nice
Let kindness take the lead
With no doubt, he’ll help you out
and you’ll shine through your good deeds

Before you even know it
You two will be good friends
There’ll not be many things in life
That you and he can’t mend

People will see the good in you
If you treat them right
And for that you will need kindness
Not that creature spite!

So when you’re all grown up
With children of your own
Your kindness will not leave you
But will go to a good home

He will walk beside your children
For now it is their turn
For kindness is the sweetest thing
And that you’ll see
They’ll learn

My mind my soul my spirit
runs free as the blowing wind
but the rain can bring a downpour
a slightly depressing tinge
of grey and black
surrounds the sky
it gets hard to breathe
there is no point me lying here
if you’re not lying with me

This life *****...

I ****...

what is life...

I can't take people's **** anymore...

**** me now...

From dust to dust...

THE END

So beautiful
so temporary
so easily lost
the pink joy of spring floats away
so gracefully
through somewhat icy wind
and glaring sunshine
‘till again they bloom
when ready
like a new love in our hearts
so beautiful
so temporary
so easily lost

What we often fail to see
during a time of sorrow,
is that nothing in life but death is certain,
especially tomorrow.

So hold on to life with all your mite,
make every second count:
“She lived a life of no regrets!”
I want to hear them shout.

Beyond the fields of poppies
you will therefore see me skip,
and if you hear a concerning noise
oh, that’s just my hip!

For I’m now old my bones are weak,
but thrills I do still seek.  
You’ll find me in the bingo hall,
Not once, but twice a week!

Can my coddiwomple become cattywampus if a wrong turn I do take?
Will my adventure become askew, if I turn at the river and not the lake?

Trips with paths unknown
and adventures far and plenty
can breath new life
into a life
that once felt cold
and empty

So I’ll make my coddiwomples cattywampus because I feel life’s too short to dwell
on wrong direction
and accuracy
as that for me
is hell

Morning;
A cracked open window
Bird song from the trees
My duvet protruding skin
Caressed by the breeze

The distant hum of traffic
A siren calls out proudly
Next door they’re making breakfast
Builders chatting rather loudly

Innocent laughter from children
On their way to learn
Chatter from the parents
Voicing their concern

The city is awake
Filled with promise not dread
I think of what the day could bring
As I lay here in my bed

Beer matts
Stack them
Under my leg
Fix me
I’m broken
Fix me
I beg
I wobble
I tilt
Your hope in me wilts
You leave me
You’re gone
Forever
Too long