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Blair Baker Dec 2018
I wonder if trees feel pain when asked to accept a season's passed?
Or if the path trodden with footprints side by side, grieves when only one returns.
Leaves drop, but I hear no crying.
Rain falls, but puddles call the children near.
I'd like to be a tree whose branches bend with the turning winds
Or the muddy trail full of splashy laughter and grins
But it's Winter and the wind of change cuts, icy blades, and my tender roots are battered and torn.
So I will wait until Spring arrives, and with her Hope.
She will dry my tears and shake off the dust.
Show me beauty I can love and trust.
She will fill my baskets to the rim.
And heal my heart deep within.
Blair Baker Apr 2018
Home is a little word that conjures up a lot of feeling.
Songs have been written about it.
Sports teams play better there.
Great movies survive on there being no place like it.
It’s often sweet,
and a place where soldiers return.

Home is where we feel safe.
It might not be in a house;
It might be in a garden,
in a tree,
or a special spot tucked away,
like a desk where you read and write and dream.

Home can be in the voice of a friend who understands you
or in the arms of someone you love.
It can be in a book you read
or a song you hear,
and you say, “That’s how I feel too!”

Home can be a wet nose welcome from your favourite pet,
a place to relax,
feeling comfortable being you.
It’s not in all our treasures,
or where we’ve lived our whole life through.

Possessions can be broken,
Jobs take us overseas
So it’s always good to remember home does not reside in things.

It’s a special sort of belonging,
unique to everyone.
Some people have a lot of it,
and some people have none.
So be a home for someone.
Smile and make their day.
Make them feel welcome.
Tell them you’re glad they came to stay.
Share a hug.
Lend an ear.
Be hospitable
and of good cheer.

More precious than gold or silver,
home is something we can share.
Be a home for someone;
Show that someone cares.
By Blair Beaumont Baker
April 2018
Blair Baker Oct 2017
A friend came over, asked me how I was,
There was no time to answer, because
She told me what she thought.
So I acquiesced and fell into line,
Sang her the blues in 12 bar time.

I didn't know something was wrong with me
Thought it was only PMT
Or a case of fatigue.
But no apparently I’m depressed,
Need to be more like Jesus

Her diagnosis brought all my thanksgiving
As she scanned my life, judged all my living
She always knows better, and she tells me how.
Hope she comes again; I feel so much better now.
Blair Baker Nov 2016
Gifts from heaven,
the falling leaves.
A golden carpet,
as trees in gracious abandon
unfold in glorious display
a sunlit royal welcome.
Yellow bursts of amber
glistening dew-kissed
droplets of love.
Blair Baker Nov 2016
Mean girls wear the latest styles
Have fake smiles
Gossip, compare
Sow division, despair

Their gardens grow in shadowy places
Behind walls, in hidden spaces
Their nectar has a bitter taste
But flies are not discerning

They **** it in like drunks, cheap wine
Sour acid, their own sublime
Gluttons crying “More and more!”
Rise up in a pungent cloud
And acid rain comes pouring down.

The vile liquid which they spread--
Their sustenance, their daily bread—
On filthy lips, feeds new seed heads.

So their gardens will always grow,
Filled with thorns and jagged rows
And roots running and deep and long and strong,
In the dark, where they belong.
Blair Baker Nov 2014
Though life abounds with blossoms bright,
fed and watered, nurtured right;
And trees along the river bank,
strengthened so, display their might,
Saguaro, YOU surprise me most
and give the desert dwellers hope.

Alone, you stand in arid sands
without your roots in greener lands,
yet strong and tall and bright, command
my respect and awe.

Deep inside your prickly skin,
you've stored life's sunshine deep within;
Though scarce the raindrops from the sky,
you've captured each and treasured, "MY!"
If I could be like you, what heights I would achieve.
And revel in acceptance that, like you,
I'm planted right where I should be.
Blair Baker Nov 2014
I’ll always think the best of you
I won’t assume the worst
No matter what the circumstance
No matter what the hurt.
Until I’ve walked a mile in your shoes
Until you’ve walked in mine
Jumping to conclusions in just a waste of time.

Rumours fly like butterflies
Landing gracefully
Bringing honey on their tender lips so innocently;
But until I’ve come to you my friend
And sought to understand,
I won’t believe a word they say because
Truth ain’t second-hand.

We observe but do not see
The possibilities.
We only see through coloured lenses of our own reality.
I don’t know what’s in your heart
You don’t know what’s in mine
So let’s leave the temptation
Of judging behind.

I didn’t mean to hurt you
What you read, wasn’t what I meant.
Words were taken out of the context
Of my heart’s intent.
So, come walk with me my friend.
Let’s try to talk it out
‘cause wouldn’t life be sweeter with the
Benefit of doubt?

The benefit of doubt my friend,
That’s what I’m giving you
The benefit of doubt
Can’t see it working any other way.
I actually wrote this as a song. :)
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