I was once curiously asked:
"Why write poetry?
Does it pay the bills?"

I replied with a smile:
"It does far more than that -
it heals."

I've just noticed, 
as I looked up from writing poetry,
A magpie purchased on the high back 
of one of my outdoor setees, 
Staring smack at me 
as I sculpt words.
Fixed, it holds itself still, measured.
Scheming its next swoop;
Taking in my features, 
I was a moving target.

sweet finesse from heart fully realised
journey undertook and accomplished

to have reached another beginning
the jump off to eternity

happiness found in peacefulness
sunworshiping yellow tulips and daffodils

Spring come again slaking thirst
blue sky blue sea, the cries of seagulls.

Kindness touched a heart,  
the heart turned into a beautiful flower,
its fragrance is felt everywhere.