Born of the stars, in their fiery embrace,
The atoms within us found their place.
Forged in the heart of celestial light,
Scattered through space on a supernova's flight.

Carbon, oxygen, iron, and gold,
Elements ancient, countless and bold.
Through eons they travelled, across cosmic seas,
To form the Earth, the land, the trees.

In every breath, a star's old sigh,
In every cell, a piece of the sky.
Our blood holds iron from stellar decay,
Our bones bear calcium from light years away.

But what have we done with this cosmic gift?
We poison the air, let the oceans drift
With plastic islands, choking the waves,
Turning Earth's beauty into shallow graves.

Fossil fuels burn, the skies grow dim,
A planet gasping from humanity's whim.
Forests fall, their whispers ignored,
While greed and carelessness cut the cord.

We are stardust, yet we betray our kin,
The life that thrives, the world we're in.
It's time to awaken, to mend and restore,
To honour the cosmos and harm it no more.

The stars gave us life, a chance to create,
Let us not squander it with reckless fate.
For in every breath, in every stride,
We carry the universe, our guide and pride.

In the stillness where shadows recede,
A promise glows, your soul is freed.
Through your journey, Danny, trials and tears,
Hope has whispered through the years.

In passing, a doorway, not defeat,
A warm embrace you will meet.
Arms extended, a light so pure,
A love eternal, steadfast, sure.

The weight of pain, the chains of strife,
Fall away into the gift of life.
With every step, peace held tight,
Now you walk into the light.

To Pauline, in love’s embrace,
Know Danny finds eternal grace.
Though parted now, his love remains,
Through cherished times, in joy and pains.

To Helen and Rob, his guiding pride,
His love lives on, deep inside.
In every smile, in every tear,
Your father’s spirit lingers near.

For Zachary, Esmie, Jacob, and Euan, dear,
Know Grandpa’s love is always near.
In laughter’s echo, in stories told,
His warmth remains, a heart of gold.

A gentle peace, a light profound,
In that place, Danny is unbound.
Forever held, forever known,
In love's embrace, he is home.

Written With sympathy by Geof

Version 1
The bench beneath me, sunlit and still,
A perch for gazing, a world to distil.
Children scattered, a vibrant tide,
Feeding ducks, then rushing the slide.

A boy, face smeared with bread’s white trace,
Flings crumbs with an urgent, determined grace.
The ducks converge, a flurry of wings,
Ripples spreading, nature sings.

On the swings, a girl takes flight,
Her giggle bright, her hair alight.
She leans forward, daring the breeze,
Feet reaching high to the tops of the trees.

The slide claims its turn, metallic and grand,
A queue forms, restless, with grains of sand.
One child hesitates, then takes the leap,
Their laughter rises, joyous and deep.

Parents linger at the edges, near,
With watchful eyes and echoes of cheer.
The park alive, a canvas displayed,
Moments of wonder in sunlight replayed.

From my quiet seat, I watch and I see,
A world alive, endlessly free.
Time halts briefly in this golden space,
Children’s joy leaves a lasting trace

Version 2
The bench, my ship in a sea of spring,
Anchored in sunlight, where sparrows sing.
Children dart like kites unbound,
Their laughter the breeze, a joyous sound.

A boy, a maestro with breadcrumbs in hand,
Conducts a symphony on the rippling strand.
The ducks waltz in their feathery parade,
Water their stage, sunlight their cascade.

A ******* the swing, a pendulum in play,
Her hair catches the sun’s golden ray.
She soars toward the heavens, toes tracing skies,
A tiny comet with endless tries.

The slide gleams like a dragon’s tail,
Inviting the brave to its glistening trail.
One child hesitates, then takes the dive,
Emerging below, electrified, alive.

Parents hover like guardians of lore,
Their faces lit with quiet rapport.
The park blooms with stories untold,
Moments like petals, both fragile and bold.

From my quiet harbour, I sip the view,
A kaleidoscope of life, in every hue.
Time pauses here, where innocence thrives,
A canvas painted with radiant lives.

The remains of yesterday linger like mist in the hollows, thin threads of memory woven into the fabric of the present - soft, unravelling, yet clinging still.

Her laughter lingers in the air, a melody too tender to fade, its echoes caught in the spaces where her presence used to bloom.

Her knitting rests in the corner, a quiet testimony to her hands, once so busy crafting warmth from strands of soft wool. The needles, now still, catch the light like silver slivers, their rhythm silenced.

A half-finished scarf sits folded exactly where she left it, two years untouched, its colours as vibrant as her smile. Each stitch holds her touch, her care, her quiet patience - a thread of her love extended into the unseen future.

The faint scent of her perfume rests on the sleeve of an old coat, a fragrance that stirs the quiet ache, a bloom of longing that never quite wilts.

Photographs lean against the walls, her eyes alight with the joy of life, the crinkle of her smile frozen in a moment the years dare not touch.

The laughter that once danced through these rooms has quieted, but it rests, softly, in the silence, like the murmur of her spirit, just beyond the veil.

The scent of rain brings her back - she loved the way it painted the earth, how it coaxed life from the soil. Now it washes the days anew, but it cannot wash her memory away.

Each fragment, each shard of yesterday speaks her name, tenderly, as the sun rises indifferent, its light scattering over the stillness, over the spaces she once filled.

And in the quiet between the hours, she stirs - half-shadow, half-light - remnants of what we left behind, whispering, unforgotten, her love forever etched in the marrow of time.

The moon is high, my little one,
Its silver light shines just for fun.
The stars are sparkling up above,
Whispering softly, "You're so loved."

Sweet dreams, my child, let worries fade,
Rest where the night casts its gentle shade.
The breeze is singing through the trees,
A lullaby upon the seas.

May fields of wonder fill your rest,
With dreams of joy and all that's best.
A garden bright, where flowers play,
And golden streams light up your way.

Sweet dreams, my love, the world is still,
The moon will watch from the quiet hill.
And when the sun peeks through the skies,
I'll be here when you open your eyes.

Dipsy-la-lo-di-da, the hippo wore a hat,
And flew to the moon on the back of a gnat.
A penguin proposed to a blueberry pie,
While a sock did karate and yelled, “Hi-yah, fly!”

The toaster recited a Shakespearean play,
While the fridge breakdanced in a furious display.
A llama in glitter invented a sport
Juggling noodles in a pizza-filled fort.

Dipsy-la-lo-di-da, the cactus sang jazz,
As jellybeans tangoed with purple pizzazz.
A submarine surfaced in a giant teacup,
And declared, “I’m the king of this syrupy sup!”

The stars turned cartwheels and burst into song,
While spaghetti noodles swung Tarzan-style along.
A turtle in tap shoes just couldn’t be beat,
Winning gold medals for his two left feet.

So twirl with a trumpet and cha-cha with cheese,
For in nonsense, the universe bows to its knees!

Beneath the soil where silent shadows sleep,
The earth enfolds its secrets, stark and steep.

A graveyard grieves in ghostly, grim embrace,
Where time has traced its touch on every face.

Moonlight lingers on marble, marked and marred,
Casting cold clarity where lives were scarred.

The breathless breeze bears whispers, weak and wan,
Of fleeting figures, here but never gone.

Frail and finite, all flesh must face its fate,
To tread the twilight toward the eternal gate.

Yet even death, with darkness so profound,
Cannot confine what faith and love have found.

Anxiety arrives unbidden,  
a shadow curling around the edges of thought,  
its voice an unrelenting murmur -
“What if? What then? What now?”  
It clings,  
pulling every breath into a tight, fleeting grasp.  

The world offers answers,  
quick-fix promises like fading sparks.  
But beneath it all, there’s a stillness waiting,  
a quiet anchored in eternity.  

“Come to me,” the voice beckons,  
not loud, but sure -
a whisper threading through the chaos.  
In Matthew’s words, it echoes:  
“All you who are weary,  
all you who carry heavy burdens -
I will give you rest.”  

And so, you pause,  
let the weight of your worries fall like stones.  
Your heart begins to open,  
not to fleeting comfort,  
but to the steadfast peace of His presence.  

The Psalms remind you:  
“Be still, and know that I am God.”  
And as the storm within you softens,
the waves calm,
the winds rest,
your soul finds its footing again.  

Philippians speaks to the quiet of surrender:  
“Do not be anxious about anything;  
but in every situation, by prayer and petition,  
with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  
And the peace of God,  which transcends all understanding, will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.”  

This peace isn’t the world’s -
it’s deeper, unshakable, eternal.  
And when anxiety presses close again, you remember:
His whisper is always near.

Be still

In the hush between heartbeats,  
In the breath before words,  
There lies a whisper, soft as dawn,  
Unfolding in the quiet.

The world runs loud,  
Clamour rising like waves that break,  
But peace waits beneath -
A river, steady, unseen.

Close your eyes.  
Let the noise dissolve  
Into the distant echo of its own futility.  
Feel the silence settle,  
Not as absence,  
But as presence.

Here, in this sacred pause,  
The weight of the eternal speaks.  
Not in thunder, not in flame,  
But in a voice so gentle,  
It weaves through the fabric of your soul.

“Listen,” it murmurs,  
To the song woven in stillness.  
“Know,” it declares,  
That the quiet holds my promise.  
“Go,” it breathes,  
But carry this calm,  
This knowing,  
This piece of forever within you.

Be still -
And hear.

Better not drop these or I'll be shelling out for more,

Cracking jokes all day, it's an egg-squisite chore.

Sunny side up, life's a yolk-filled delight,

Scrambling for words, I'll whisk them just right.

Egg-straordinary tales, hatch from my mind,

Poaching ideas, I'm never in a bind.

Boiling with laughter, it's hard to ignore,

Egg-static moments, always wanting more.

Omelette you in on a secret, it's true,

Egg-spect the best, when I'm talking to you.

Words and words and words,
Unfolding like restless birds.
They take flight on paper skies,
Chasing truths, weaving lies.

Whispers born in secret streams,
Carving shapes of untold dreams.
Their echoes linger, soft yet strong,
Building bridges, breaking wrong.

In their cadence, hearts may bend,
Stories bloom, and sorrows mend.
Oh, how they dance, they rise, they fall,
The ink of life, they write us all.

Words, so simple, yet so grand,
The pillars of thought in every land.
They shape the world, they bridge the seas,
The silent whispers, the roaring pleas.

A power vast, both kind and fierce,
Through tender hearts and walls they pierce.
They heal the broken, fan the flame,
Their weight can cradle or cast the blame.

Infinite dreams they hold in store,
A mystery that we adore.
Each word a spark, a doorway wide,
A universe where truths reside.

And so, to words, a tribute sung,
A language old, forever young.
They weave our stories, mark our time,
Immortal ink in life's long rhyme.

Sometimes, those voices whisper,
       "You can't,"
                   "You’re lost,"
                              "You’re weak,"
they say, with shadows coiled tight,
Rising like storm clouds over my mind,
Clutching my hope, stealing my light.

They creep in corners, faceless and loud,
Weaving their lies in the guise of truth,
Heavy as chains, they tether and shroud,
Draining the colours of life’s youth.

But then, the sky splits, a tremor unfolds,
A roar like mountains torn asunder.
God’s voice cascades, relentless and bold,
A symphony of light, a surge of thunder.

His roar shakes the roots of anger’s grip,
The weight dissolves, the shadows flee.
Resentment, like ash, scatters and drifts,
And I am left unbound, free to be me.

The whispers falter, their power erased,
As His strength becomes my refrain.
God’s roar declares, "You are embraced,
No past will hold you, no hurt remain."

So let them murmur, scream, or shout,
Their power is thin, their strength a veil.
For in my heart, His voice rings out
            -I can, I will, prevail.-

In the heart,  
Grievances take root,  
Tangled vines of resentment.  
But forgiveness,  
A gentle gardener,  
Unwinds those tendrils,  
Releases the thorns,  
From both the wounded  
And the wounder.

A breath, deeper than any before,  
Fills the soul,  
As anger dissipates like morning mist.  
Eyes that once burned with ire,  
Now softened by understanding,  
Find peace in letting go.

The forgiver, unburdened,  
Feels a weight lift,  
An invisible chain broken.  
In the act of releasing,  
Their own spirit soars,  
Freed from the grip of past pain.  

Steps lighter, smiles brighter,  
For in relinquishing the past,  
They reclaim the present,  
And hope blooms anew.

The forgiven, too, feel the touch,  
Of compassion’s tender hand,  
But it is the one who forgives,  
Who finds the greatest relief,  
The most profound freedom.

Forgiveness, a quiet act of courage,  
Transforms hearts,  
Heals unseen wounds,  
And weaves a tapestry,  
Of newfound peace.

To hear,
Catch sound
In flight.
A whisper,
A hum,
Day or night.

Listening digs,
Heart's core.
Empathy blooms,
Understanding soars.

---

Hear is
Catching sound,
Fleeting, clear.
Listening’s connection
Truly sincere.
Paths diverge,
Surface-bound,
Listening dives,
Truths found.

Through boundless tides of the digital sea,
Shadows beckon, whispering: "Who will you be?"
With faceless freedom, it's tempting to try,
To don a false mask, let the truth pass by.

Keys carve illusions, a screen paints the guise,
Shaping false faces with whispering lies.
A borrowed name, a story untrue,
A fleeting escape where lies break through.

But why should I trade my essence away,
Letting lies flourish and lead me astray?
For truth is my armour, my compass, my light,
A sanctuary where I stand upright.

I am myself – unshaken, sincere,
No pretences to wear, no shadows to fear.
Let the world weave its threads of delusion and sham,
I stand resolute, for I am who I am.

Silent board awaits,
Knight leaps over pawns' defence,
Moonlight whispers check.

Pieces poised for war,
Queen glides with regal purpose,
Victory's sweet breath.

Bishop's path is clear,
Diagonal whispers move,
Endgame's silent thrill.

Rook stands tall and firm,
Castle walls protect the king,
Strategy unfolds.

Checkmate declared,
King's last stand in silent fall,
Triumph's quiet joy.

In the depths of shadows, where hope seems distant, a soul stands still, contemplating the price.
The weight of sorrow, like a heavy blanket, suffocating, an endless night, where even the stars refuse to shine.
A heart quivers, devoid of light, every beat a struggle, an echo of despair.
Within the darkness, soft murmurs arise, faint echoes persist, despite the fall.
In the heart of grief, a spark kindles, a flicker, faint, like a firefly in the night.
Through eyes bathed in tears, strength emerges, in moments of stillness, a heart is reborn.
Even in the darkest hour, resilience blooms, a delicate flower, pushing through the cracks.
As the sun begins its ascent, a burst of colour illuminates the sky, from profound pain to soaring joy, a long journey, an endless quest.
When elation's wings lift you, a heart soars, boundless sky, laughter reverberates, a joyful sound, a symphony of life.
Both the highs and lows, integral parts of life, as the river flows.
For each tear, a smile may appear, in every sorrow, joy takes form, a dance of contrasts, a delicate balance.
Embrace the dance of light and dark, the ebb and flow, each fleeting spark.
In balance, we find our path, through night and dawn, to each new day, to each new beginning

First things first, can you imagine what's about to happen?
A spark in the darkness, a dawn quietly tapping.
In the stillness of the morning, dreams begin to stir,
The world awakens, potential's soft whisper.

Beyond the horizon, the unknown waits,
A journey unfolds, opening gates.
With every step, new wonders to find,
Adventure and magic, intertwined.

Questions unanswered, mysteries to seek,
Courage found in moments so meek.
First things first, with eyes open wide,
Embrace the unfolding, let curiosity be your guide.

From the simplest breath to the grandest view,
Life’s surprises await, in hues ever new.
First things first, imagine what’s to come,
A world of possibilities, for you to become.

Second things second, as we chart our course anew,
From the echoes of beginnings, visions come into view.
With each step deliberate, we traverse the unknown,
Building on the whispers of dreams already sown.

In the dance of life, each moment builds upon the last,
A symphony of seconds, weaving future from the past.
Second things second, foundations strong we lay,
Guided by our passions, lighting up the way.

Courage in the heart, and wisdom in the mind,
Through trials and triumphs, treasures we shall find.
Second things second, with purpose we proceed,
Nurturing the seeds of hope, for every need.

In the journey of existence, no step is left behind,
Each act, each choice, a testament designed.
Second things second, as our story intertwines,
Creating a masterpiece, where every moment shines.

Third things third, as we walk this path ahead,
With hearts aligned to purpose, by inner compass led.
Step by step, the road unveils, unfolding tale untold,
Moments turn to memories, a treasure to behold.

In the quest for meaning, in the search for truth,
Every action ripples, echoes from our youth.
Third things third, with intent we make our mark,
Each choice a shining beacon, lighting up the dark.

In the symphony of life, each note finds its place,
Harmonizing stories, in a timeless space.
Third things third, building dreams with care,
Crafting our existence, here and everywhere.

Through joys and trials, through laughter and tears,
We weave our lives together, conquering our fears.
Third things third, a journey we embrace,
Writing our own story, with love and grace.

Fourth things fourth, finally the moment to arrive,
The culmination of our journey, where dreams come alive.
With every step behind us, we've grown, we've learned,
The fires of our passion forever brightly burned.

In the dance of destiny, we find our place,
With hearts unburdened, with hope we embrace.
Fourth things fourth, the pinnacle we seek,
Strengthened by the trials, resilient and unique.

With the cacophony of time, each thread interwoven,
Crafting tales of wonder, in every life that's chosen.
Fourth things fourth, as we reach this height,
A celebration of spirit, a beacon in the night.

Words like whispers fly,
Dreams unfold in silent night,
Hearts dance in moonlight.

Near and far and here and everywhere,
The whispers of the wind, they fill the air.
In the quiet of the night, under the star's gentle glare,
Dreams are woven, spun with tender care.

From mountaintops so high, reaching for the sky,
To the deepest oceans, where mysteries lie.
In the heart of the forest, where nature's beauty is bared,
Wonders never cease, near and far and here and everywhere.

In the eyes of a child, wonder pure and bright,
In the wisdom of the old, a guiding light.
Through the trials and tribulations, the journey we share,
Life's tapestry is woven, near and far and here and everywhere.

Through the seasons' changes, as time marches on,
From the dawn of the day to the setting sun's song.
In every smile, every tear, every silent prayer,
Love's essence lingers, near and far and here and everywhere.

In the heart's deepest corners, where dreams reside,
In the connections we cherish, the bonds we cannot hide.
With every step we take, with every breath of air,
We find our place in the universe, near and far and here and everywhere.

Roses are green,
Violets are red,
I tried to write a poem,
But my brain felt dead.

In the grand facade of high society's ticker,
Beneath the dazzle, sparkle and all the glitters,
Lurks a truth they often bicker,
Just all fur coat and no knickers.

Masks of smiles painted thicker,
But hearts grow colder, lines grow sicker,
Chasing shadows, dreams grow slicker,
Lost in all fur coat and no knickers.

Hope blooms like morning's flicker,
Find your worth, let nothing snicker,
For life's more than fur coat and knickers,
Let courage rise, love bloom quicker.

In the dance of highs and lows, my mind spins its own rhythm.

In the halls of L Grammar,
Where knowledge and wisdom should bloom,
There stood a figure of intimidation,
A presence that cast a shadow of gloom.

Mr. F, the English teacher,
His words, a weapon sharp and cold,
A teacher whose authority ruled,
But left us feeling small and controlled.

With every lesson, fear did linger,
A tense atmosphere filled the air,
His voice, a booming thunderstorm,
A reminder of the power he’d bear.

He demanded excellence, unyielding,
With little patience for our plight,
His methods harsh, his standards high,
Turning our days into endless night.

Yet, in those moments of resilience,
We found strength to endure and cope,
For even in the face of adversity,
We held on to dreams and hope.

Mr. F, a paradox of power,
His influence, a lasting mark,
In the classroom's shadows and beyond,
We learned to find our own spark.

For an instance, I forgot my wife,
In the whirlwind of moments, life's swift race,
A fleeting lapse, a blink of time,
Yet in my heart, she holds her place.

In busy days and hurried nights,
When memories flutter like the breeze,
A moment's pause, a quiet breath,
Her presence gently brings me ease.

Though time has passed, her love remains,
A constant light that guides my way,
Her laughter echoes in my heart,
A solace in the darkest day.

For even in those briefest slips,
When focus shifts, and thoughts do stray,
The bond we shared is unbroken still,
Her spirit near, come what may.

In the classroom's dusty gloom,
Where dreams and lessons intertwine,
A mischievous schoolboy sits,
With a spark in his eye, so bright and fine.

His mind wanders far and wide,
Beyond the walls of the old school hall,
To lands of dragons and daring knights,
And treasures hidden beyond the thrall.

He doodles in the margins,
Of his tattered notebook page,
Imagining adventures bold,
That could fill a thousand stage.

Yet, when the teacher calls his name,
He snaps back to the present day,
With a sheepish grin, he answers quick,
And promises to stay, to learn and play.

For in the heart of every lad,
A world of wonder lies,
And though he may be mischievous,
His dreams reach for the skies.

An empty glass sits solemnly, a silent plea for more.
Its once vibrant contents now but a memory, a thirst waiting to be quenched.

With every sip, the world grew brighter, a dance of flavours on the tongue.
But now, the glass is void, hollow, its promise unfulfilled.

Oh, to taste that elixir once again, to feel the warmth, the joy it brings.
A moment of indulgence, a sip of bliss, to chase away the evening's emptiness.

Refill the glass, let it overflow, with the essence of life's simple pleasures.
For in that vessel, we find more than drink, we find connection, laughter, and moments to cherish.

So, raise the glass high, let it be known, an empty glass is but a call to action.
Refill it, and let the night continue, with stories told and memories made anew.

In the realm where words collide, where creativity flows like a river, we gather, a constellation of voices, each one shining with its unique light. We are poets, dreamers, and storytellers, weaving our thoughts into the tapestry of existence.

I think we love you.

In the quiet moments of reflection, when the world falls silent and still, we find ourselves inspired by one another. Your words, a spark that ignites our imagination, a catalyst for creation, a reminder that we are not alone.

I think we love you.

It's in the way you share your heart, with verses that resonate with truth and vulnerability. Your poetry, a window into your soul, an invitation to explore the depths of our own emotions.

I think we love you.

It's in the way you paint with words, crafting images that linger in our minds, like the brushstrokes of a master artist. Your metaphors, a bridge between the tangible and the abstract, connecting us to the beauty of the unseen.

I think we love you.

It's in the way you challenge us, pushing the boundaries of our thoughts, provoking us to question and reflect. Your poetry, a mirror reflecting the complexities of the human experience, a testament to our shared journey.

I think we love you.

It's in the way you listen, offering your presence and understanding, a safe space for our voices to be heard. Your support, a beacon of light, guiding us through the darkest nights, reminding us that we are valued and appreciated.

I think we love you.

And as we come together, a chorus of voices, we realize that our connection is not a fleeting moment, but a growing bond, a community of kindred spirits, united by our love for words.

I Know I love you.

Calm down, Trump, breathe deep,
In the room where power meets,
Unity, our light.

Red red wine, Malbec rich and caramel,
In your depths, a world unparalleled,
With hues so dark, and flavours so sweet,
A journey of senses, in every sip we meet.

From vineyards lush, where sunbeams dance,
Your essence captured in a glass, a chance,
To savour the richness, the soft embrace,
Of caramel notes, with each trace.

So, pour the Malbec, let the moments unwind,
In every drop, your story we find,
Red red wine, with your decadent charm,
You warm our hearts, keep us from harm.

The yin and yang of life, in you is personified,
In love and light, both soft and bright, you stride,
Embracing all that comes within, a heart so free,
Dancing to the tune of dual kin, a soul set free.

Two souls in one, a tender embrace,
The fluid dance of life's sweet grace,
Boundaries blur, the lines dissolve,
In your spectrum of love, we all evolve.

Through night and day, dark and light,
In your gentle sway, we find our flight,
The yin and yang, in life's own way,
In you, bi personified, we sway.

A world in hues of blue and pink,
Where hearts can wander and calmly think,
In your balance, we find our truth,
Yin and yang, in love's own booth.

You are a powerful reminder, rich and multifaceted,
Every person, love, and experience, intricately crafted,
In you, we see the beautiful tapestry of existence,
Embracing every colour with gentle persistence.

The thorns of life are pricking me, and it’s ****** uncomfortable,
My mind a tangled garden of roses, and the stem is a story of harsh brambles,
Winding their way around my sanity, tearing at the fabric of serenity,
But I grasp them anyhow, for the scent of dreams is worth the pain.

Each jagged edge a reminder of existence, raw and unapologetic,
Yet in the blood and grit lies beauty, fierce and unfettered,
So I dance through this thorny maze, wild, unfaltering,
For it is the struggle that shapes me, moulds my courage, my soul.

I am getting old and my back creaks,
But I refuse to slow my pace,
With a mischievous grin, I embrace the years,
Living life with a touch of grace.

I dance in the rain, I sing out loud,
I wear bright colours, I stand out in a crowd,
I laugh at the rules, I break the mould,
Forgetting the notion of growing old.

Wrinkles are badges of adventures had,
Each grey hair a tale of fun,
I chase my dreams with reckless abandon,
Under the golden sun.

I climb the mountains, I sail the seas,
I savour each moment, I do as I please,
For life is too short to play it safe,
I live with passion; I live with faith.

I make new friends, I cherish the old,
I share my stories, both brave and bold,
I dance through life with a youthful heart,
Aging disgracefully, a work of art.

So let my back creak, let my hair turn grey,
I'll live each moment, come what may,
For in this journey, wild and free,
Aging disgracefully is the way to be.

In the velvet cloak of night,
A cosmic dance begins,
Seven celestial bodies align,
A rare and wondrous sight.

Mercury, swift and bright,
First to greet the twilight,
Dancing close to the sun's embrace,
A fleeting, golden light.

Venus, the evening star,
Glistens with a lover's glow,
Her beauty unmatched, afar,
In the twilight's gentle flow.

Mars, the warrior bold,
Burns with a crimson fire,
A tale of battles old,
And dreams that never tire.

Jupiter, the giant king,
With moons in loyal throng,
His presence, a majestic ring,
A symphony, a song.

Saturn, with his rings of ice,
A crown of ancient lore,
In the sky, a paradise,
A wonder to explore.

Uranus, the tilted one,
A mystery in the night,
His azure hue, a distant sun,
A beacon, cold and bright.

Neptune, the farthest blue,
In the depths of space he roams,
A world of secrets, few,
In the vast, eternal homes.

Together, they align,
A parade of cosmic grace,
A moment so divine,
In the boundless, starry space.

The heavens sing their song,
A melody of light,
A harmony so strong,
In the quiet of the night.

Gaze upon this sight,
A gift from realms above,
A fleeting, rare delight,
A testament of love.

For in this grand display,

The universe reveals,
Its wonders, night and day,
And the magic it conceals.

From the coffee house window, she stands so near,
A lady busking, her melodies clear.
On the market corner, her voice does rise,
A beacon of song, under cloudy skies.

Shoppers bustle, with bags in hand,
Yet pause for a moment, to join her band.
A minute or two, they stand and sway,
Enchanted by the music, in their busy day.

With nimble fingers, she strums her guitar,
Notes dancing like wishes on a falling star.
Her voice, a sweet lullaby, soft and free,
Echoes through the market, like a gentle sea.

Coins clink softly, in her open case,
A token of thanks, for the smile on each face.
In the rhythm of life, her tunes take flight,
A brief interlude, in the shoppers' plight.

Children tug on sleeves, eyes wide with glee,
As parents smile, lost in the melody.
Old friends reunite, share stories anew,
With her songs as the backdrop, their bonds grew.

From the coffee house window, I watch and see,
A scene so vibrant, a living tapestry.
The lady busking, with her heartfelt tune,
Brings warmth and light, like a sunny June.

In every note, a tale is told,
Of love, of loss, of days of old.
Her music weaves through the market square,
A thread of magic, in the midday air.

And as the sun dips, shadows grow long,
Her voice still carries, the heart of her song.
A fleeting moment, a melody shared,
As the market slows and daylight fades.

Beneath the frost, life stirs,
Whispers of warmth in the breeze,
A symphony of colours,
Unfolding in the dawn.
Buds break through the earth,
Reaching for the sun,
Petals unfurl, soft and new,
A canvas painted fresh.

Birdsong fills the air,
Melodies of hope and renewal,
Each note a promise,
Of days growing longer, brighter.
The world shakes off its slumber,
Stretching, yawning, awakening,
To the gentle touch of spring,
A season reborn.

No light, no sound,
A void where echoes drown.
In the stillness, whispers fade,
Dreams in shadows, softly laid.

Time stands still, a breathless pause,
In the dark, no cause, no laws.
Stars unseen, yet hearts still beat,
In the silence, souls do meet.

A world within, where thoughts collide,
In the quiet, truths reside.
No light, no sound, yet life profound,
In the hush, we are unbound.

On the cusp of spring, in morning light,
Emerges a bloom, pure and white.
A daisy bold, midst blades of green,
Tales of springtime dreams unseen.

Daisy, darling, harbinger bright,
Whispers of warmth in the fading night.
In a world yet cold, your petals gleam,
A promise of the springtime dream.

Through winter's grasp, you find your way,
With golden heart that bids the day.
Courageous flower, tender and sweet,
In the dawning spring, our eyes do meet.

Though frost may linger, though skies be grey,
Your beauty heralds a brighter day.
In gardens wild or manicured lawn,
With you, dear daisy, spring is born.

So sing, dear daisy, your silent song,
As nature's chorus joins along.
In your embrace, we find our cheer,
For spring is nigh, and warmth is near.

In the wake of new dawn, in a world so grand,
Where silicon and circuits danced hand in hand,
Rose a beacon of brilliance, in tech's vivid scheme,
The ZX Spectrum, a digital dream.

Born from the mind of Sinclair's bright flair,
A machine to empower, to educate, to dare,
With rainbow stripes and keys of rubber,
It sparked a revolution, igniting the cyber.

In living rooms and bedrooms, its presence was felt,
As young minds discovered the power it dealt,
Loading with tapes, with a screech and a whirl,
They entered new realms, as the code would unfurl.

From simple lines of BASIC, they crafted their art,
Creating worlds of wonder, from the depths of their heart,
Jet Set *****’s antics, and Manic Miner’s plight,
The Spectrum brought magic, day and night.

With colours and sounds, it lit up the screen,
A marvel of pixels, where gamers convene,
From Dizzy’s adventures to text-based quests,
The ZX Spectrum was truly the best.

In the hands of hobbyists, it sparked a new age,
Of homegrown creations, their talents engaged,
From coders to players, a community strong,
Their passion for pixels, a resonant song.

Through trials of loading, with patience and care,
They battled the glitches, with will to spare,
The Spectrum stood resilient, a titan of play,
A legend in computing, to this very day.

Though decades have passed, and tech has evolved,
The spirit of the Spectrum remains unresolved,
A testament to vision, to dreams and to skill,
The ZX Spectrum, remembered still.

In the nascent days of silicon dreams,
A revolution brewed, more than it seemed,
In the heart of Britain, where innovation sparked,
The dawn of home computing, a journey embarked.

Amidst the clatter of typewriters, and ink's gentle flow,
A vision took shape, for the future to know,
A microcomputer, for every home and school,
To empower the curious, a powerful tool.

The BBC Micro, affectionately the B,
A marvel of tech, for all to see,
With its sturdy build and keyboard bright,
A beacon of knowledge, a guiding light.

From classrooms to living rooms, its presence spread,
Young minds were awakened, by what it said,
Programming in BASIC, their imaginations soared,
With each line of code, new worlds explored.

Acorn's creation, a jewel so fine,
With teletext and graphics, ahead of its time,
From Elite’s vast galaxies, to educational quests,
The BBC B shone among the best.

In the spirit of '80s, where dreams took flight,
The BBC B stood, a technological knight,
A bridge to the future, where data could roam,
A gateway to knowledge, from the comfort of home.

It was more than a machine, it was a spark,
Igniting passions, in the light and the dark,
A symbol of progress, a herald of change,
In the annals of history, its name will remain.

So here’s to the BBC Micro, a legend in kind,
A testament to the power of the human mind,
From the '70s dawn, to the stars above,
The BBC B, with all our love.

In a world where science would meet,
A woman with bionics so neat,
Jaime Sommers, so strong,
Fought for right, against wrong,
With a heart that never missed a beat.


Her limbs were of steel, oh so fine,
Her strength and her senses, divine,
She'd battle and fight,
With all of her might,
A hero in every design.


With Oscar and Rudy, her mates,
She'd tackle the most dangerous fates,
In justice's quest,
She stood out the best,
In the hearts of fans, she relates.

In the vast expanse of space, where stars gleam bright,
A tale unfolds of bravery, in the dead of night,
Blake and his seven, a rebel force so bold,
Against the Federation's grip, their story told.

Roj Blake, a leader with courage and might,
Fought for freedom, against the dark's fright,
With Avon, Vila, Cally, and Jenna by his side,
Their loyalty and struggles, through space they’d ride.

On the Liberator, their star ship grand,
They battled oppression, a ragtag band,
With Orac’s wisdom, and Zen’s guiding light,
They journeyed through dangers, from planet to flight.

Avon, the cynic, with a mind so keen,
Vila, the thief, with wit often seen,
Cally, the telepath, with heart and grace,
Jenna, the pilot, navigating space.

Through victories and losses, their spirits remained,
A quest for justice, though lives they strained,
Blake's 7, a legend that time won't erase,
A story of defiance, in the infinite space.

Echoes of their fight, in hearts will stay,
Blake's 7, heroes of a bygone day,
In the chronicles of sci-fi, their legacy set,
A saga remembered, we won’t forget.

Y'all still with me? Let's take a ride,
To the heart of Nashville, where dreams collide.
In *****-tonk bars, where the music’s tight,
Country tunes echo through the night.

From neon lights on Broadway's street,
To the soulful strum of a guitar’s beat,
Nashville's alive with the heart of song,
Where every voice feels like it belongs.

Storytellers paint their tales so true,
In lyrics of heartache, love, and the blues.
Cowboy boots dance on a sawdust floor,
In a place where legends are born and more.

There's a magic here, in the Southern air,
Melodies weaving dreams without a care.
So y'all still with me? Let's raise a toast,
To Nashville’s music, the sound we love most.

I hate pills and potions, they cloud my view,
In my quest for peace, they sometimes ensue.
The labels and bottles, a daily reminder,
Of battles within, growing even kinder.

I despise the reliance, the chemical bind,
Searching for solace that’s gentle and kind.
In nature and whispers, I seek my reprieve,
Finding my balance in the breaths that I breathe.

The pills and potions, they may have a place,
But I yearn for more than their cold, sterile embrace.
In mindfulness, movement, and moments of grace,
I find a serenity that no pill can replace.

I hate pills and potions, but still, I endure,
Seeking my healing in ways that feel pure.
For in this journey, both long and profound,
I uncover the peace that’s internally found.

"Did you have the rest of the chicken before you went to bed?"
I pondered this aloud, my stomach tightly wed.
“No,” you whispered, “I left it for you,
I knew you'd be hungry when the clock struck two.”

I thanked you then, with a sleepy head,
Grateful for your thoughtfulness as I stumbled to bed.
“Did you check on the stars before you went to sleep?”
You asked, as you heard me quietly creep.

“No,” I admitted, “I watched them instead,
In my dreams they twinkled, right above my head.”
“Well,” you said, your voice soft and warm,
“They shone extra bright, after the storm.”

I smiled in the dark, imagining the sky,
And your words brought comfort, as the night drifted by.
“Did you remember to wish upon one?” you asked with care,
I nodded, sleepily, “Yes, I wished you were there.”

“Goodnight,” you murmured, “Sweet dreams ahead,
Let the stars and the chicken fill your head.”
With that, the night embraced our quiet talk,
And I dreamt of a starlit midnight walk.

In the mirror’s gentle gaze,
Reflection true, a heart ablaze,
With whispers soft, I hear the call,
Of self-love’s rise, through shadows fall.

No need to seek approval’s light,
For in my soul, I shine so bright,
With every mark and every tear,
I stand strong, without a fear.

Establish routines, with care in mind,
Positive words, in mornings find,
Set healthy boundaries, guard your space,
Mindfulness, with calm embrace.

Embrace the strength within my core,
A love for self, I can’t ignore,
In every step, I find my way,
Through each new dawn, I greet the day.

Gratitude journals, heart’s delight,
Small indulgences, soul takes flight,
Forgiveness flows, for past mistakes,
In loved ones’ warmth, heart awakes.

With open arms, I welcome me,
A journey of discovery,
In self-love’s warmth, I’ll always stand,
My heart’s own keeper, hand in hand.

Learning grows, and hobbies bloom,
Reflection’s peace, within my room,
Through every act, and thought sincere,
Self-love’s embrace, forever near.

Resilience forged in trials faced,
Empowerment in every trace,
With courage bold, I rise above,
A testament to self-love’s love.

Through storms and sunshine, I will stand,
Empowered heart and steady hand,
In resilience, I find my way,
Empowered, loved, come what may

I walk my own path in colours so bright,
Through shadows and sunshine, both day and night.
With hues of courage, and shades of grace,
I paint my journey, in my own pace.

No map to follow, no line to trace,
Just vibrant dreams, in endless space.
With every step, the canvas grows,
A masterpiece in the making, flows.

Blues of the ocean, greens of the earth,
Reds of passion, and golds of worth.
In every hue, a story told,
Of adventures new, and hearts so bold.

For life is art, in a spectrum wide,
A kaleidoscope of joy and stride.
I walk my own path, in colours so bright,
A radiant journey, a beacon of light.

Have you got places to be?
Always, mate, always,
The world spins fast, no time to see,
Life's a whirlwind, in so many ways.

Do you ever stop to breathe?
Rarely, mate, rarely,
Chasing dreams, no time to grieve,
Moments pass by, barely.

Is there a place you call home?
Everywhere, mate, everywhere,
In the heart, where I roam,
In the memories we share.

Do you find peace in the rush?
Sometimes, mate, sometimes,
In the quiet moments, hush,
In the rhythm of life's rhymes.

Will you ever slow down?
Maybe, mate, maybe,
When the stars wear a crown,
And the journey feels steady.

Steel eyes,
Heart of fire.
Wars waged,
Dreams higher.
Land claimed,
Might in hand.
Echoed cries,
Sweeping land.
Crowned fate,
Legends spun.
Battlefields,
Victory won.
Hope shattered,
Glory's cost.
Conquered ground,
Never lost.