Lift the lid of that happy thought
And joy and enthusiasm come bubbling from below.
Open the door to that new idea
And creativity and imagination begin to flow.

Pave the way for that dream still unfulfilled
And goals and projects tumble into view.
Press the trigger for that surprise event
And excitement and anticipation arrive on cue.

Hoist aloft that adventure yet unplanned
And childlike delight gambols gaily in.
Remove the veil of that peaceful, encouraging word
And gratitude breaks into the broadest grin.

Slam the door on worries and misgivings
And that cold tingle of stress will wriggle away.
Close the shutters to doubt and apprehension
And disquiet and anxiety will be held at bay.

Batten down the hatches against fear and dread
And pessimism and gloom briskly are dispersed.
Bar the way to suspicions and mistrust
So jealousy and resentment can't do their worst.

Seal up the access to anger and violence
And confidence and assurance will soon arrive.
Lock the entrance to malice and hatred
And peace and hope and love begin to thrive.

Round and round and round I whirl
I exist to pirouette, to twirl.

A sea of jewels at my feet shimmer,
They twinkle, glisten, shine and glimmer.

A rich array of cherished treasure,
Of value far too great to measure.

I hear the music as I turn…
The only tune I’ll ever learn.

My pose is ever full of grace,
A smile is fixed upon my face.

My hair is twisted into a perfect pleat
My ballet points laced on my feet.

My pink tutu stands out starched and straight,
As I mechanically revolve, rotate.

My spinning trajectory gently slows
My jolting pivot draws to a close.

And I’ll stand stock still until rewound
To again start swirling round and round.

An admirable quality, if there ever was one
Is faith in things which can’t possibly be done
The improbably, the unlikely, the hard to achieve
Can sometimes be pulled off without too much upheave,
But the truly preposterous, the incredible stuff – well
To accomplish the impossible seems unbelievably tough.

Those mountainous obstacles, which won’t seem to shift
Like enormous stone boulders, too heavy to lift
Will not budge, give no leeway, no helping hand
Despite the ingenious workings of a well-thought-through plan.

The strongest ones will find that their muscles are weak
The wily ones success with their cunning will seek
The nervous ones will stand down without any fight
And the impulsive try their best but then they take flight.

But the quietly faithful, those with no outward force
No great grand schemes, no ploys, no resource
Armed with simple assurance and a mind-set quite humble
Yet miraculously those mountains begin to wither and crumble…

Have you ever noticed our desire to create?
To produce, develop, and fabricate,
To compose, to invent, to design
To construct, develop and refine…

It might be a painting, a poem, a book,
Perhaps a new dish that you’ve chosen to cook.
It could be a carving, a fine piece of wood,
Or a report that you’ve worked on as hard as you could.

Maybe some music, the melody for a song,
Some fine catchy lyrics that’ll have folks singing along.
It might be treading the boards in a serious play
Or teasing a delicate shape out of clay.

It could be mechanical, delving in deep grease and grime
Fine-tuning machines until they’re running just fine
Perhaps you love knitting, or perhaps cutting hair
Designing new blueprints or new dresses to wear.

Maybe you could happily while away hours
Choosing and arranging freshly cut flowers.
You might love DIY or you just love to dance,
You’d have joined the ballet if you’d had the chance

Or you thrive in the garden, planting and mowing
Surveying all the wonderful things which are growing.
Perhaps you love to draw, to sketch, or to cover –
Pristine white canvases in swathes of rich colour.

Maybe jewellery is more your thing,
Fashioning a necklace, a bracelet, a ring,
You might program websites, you know html
And CSS, ruby, and java as well.

Or possibly you prefer a needle and thread
Or maybe a set of great tools instead.
You might be a planner who loves to organise
Picnics or outings or a Birthday surprise!

Your creativity will be manifest in all kinds of ways
It might not dazzle, astound or amaze
But it will bring you enjoyment, well-being and pleasure
A sense of contentment, a delight you can treasure.
To take the time, unleash your need to build
And reap the rewards of the joy it can yield.

What are the uses of sorrow you say?
It just makes you sad, it can ruin your day.
It makes things seem gloomy, it makes you feel blue
As if your problems are many and your pleasures are few.

It can fill you with heartache and pain and despair
Till you feel not a soul in the world may care
It’s a realm of suffering and anguish and woe
Of feeling battered and fretful and low.

Until such is the level of disquiet and strain
That you wonder if you’ll ever feel better again…
But then one day, perhaps as if by surprise
You realise this trial of disproportionate size

Has begun to recede, to abate, to retreat
And you may just have accomplished an immeasurable feat.
That day after day of carrying on
Of hanging in there, staying afloat, pressing on

That unwittingly indeed and despite your worst fear
You have in fact learned to endure, persevere.
To face the problem, struggle through, quietly resist
Till you grapple the pain, countervail and persist.

And as things finally take an uphill turn
With a jolt of astonishment, you take stock and discern
That the problems in life, the bad news, the big blows
Actually strengthen us more than we know.

That however unpleasant, distressing and dire
They sharpen qualities really quite hard to acquire
Ones which mould us, enhance and amend
Which will enable us wisdom and comfort to lend.

And the result of our sorrow, that unwanted gift
Will be virtues which nourish, embolden, uplift
So, the next time we receive a box full of trials,
Let us reserve the tiniest of smiles
And remember the fact that this source of displeasure
May reveal yet another unperceived treasure.