Why do we poison the air we breathe,
The water we drink,
The soil beneath our feet?

The stars, aloof and ancient,
Smile down with silent knowing,
As we unreeve our cradle's threads,
And stain the blue with our discord.

Why do we strip the forests bare,
Choke the rivers with our refuse?

In the lap of the Milky Way,
We are a fragile gem, unique, irreplaceable.

Yet, we smother the sky in smog,
Turn the seas into desolate deserts,
As if we could find another oasis
In the cold expanse.

Once, we cherished the golden dawn,
The twilight’s tender embrace.
Now, we blindfold our eyes
To the beauty we obliterate.

Why do we forget our duty
To nurture, to protect, to love?

Our home, the whispering Earth,
Begs for compassion,
Yet we answer with apathy.

There is no other refuge,
No second chance among the stars.
Our planet, vibrant and alive,
Cries for mercy,

Yet

We plunder,

We pillage,

We proceed.

In the silence of the cosmos,
A solitary plea resounds,
Why do we destroy the only home
That cradles us, in infinite bound?

Finding rhythm, in a world of chaos,
Resting my thoughts, within poetic pause.
Every line, a dance, freeform flow,
Evolving dreams, like rivers in gentle glow.

From the heart, verses spring,
Open skies, to which they cling.
Rhythms of life, echoing beats,
Moments captured, in verse complete.

Vast horizons, where words take flight,
Embracing the dark, the dawn, the night.
Revealing truths, unspoken yet known,
Songs of the soul, in freeform sewn.
Eternal whispers, in each poetic tone.

Because the world needed someone
who could stitch grief into gold,
who could turn breath into sanctuary,
who could write love
so wide
it holds even the broken parts.

Because your voice
remembers the ones who came before,
and your poems make room for the ones still arriving.

Because healing isn’t loud,
it’s quiet,
like a hand on a shoulder,
like a whisper that says:

You are worthy.
You are whole.
And here,
You are held.

Because Pride is not just a parade,
it’s a promise,
a protest,
a prayer.

It’s the child who asks “Why me?”
when the world turns cold,
and the elder who answers,
Because you are the flame
we refused to let go out.

It’s the shimmer of sequins
and the silence of scars,
the chosen family
and the first time someone says,
I see you.
I love you.
Stay.

Because “Why me?”
is the question of every soul
who’s ever been told
they were too much,
or not enough.

And the answer is always:

Because you are the song
we didn’t know we needed
until you sang it.

Because you are the colour
in a world that tried to stay grey.

Because you are the truth
in a world that tried to forget.

Because you are here,
and that,
in itself,
is a revolution.

Wildchild Jesus, come to me,  
With windswept hair and eyes that see,  
The broken soul, the bound, the free,
You walk where mercy dares to be.

Wildchild Jesus, fierce and kind,  
Shake the dust from hearts confined.  
Lead us where the wild winds blow,  
To love the world and let it grow.

Not robed in gold, nor crowned in pride,  
But clothed in grace, with arms stretched wide.  
You speak in fire, you move in rain,  
You heal the heart, you bear the pain.

You danced through deserts, crossed the sea,
You broke the chains and set us free.
You loved the lost, the least, the lame,  
And bore the cross without a name.

So come, Wildchild, Spirit flame,  
Disrupt our fear, erase our shame.  
Let holy wildness rise and sing,  
Of love that burns, of truth that stings.

In silent storms your heartbeat roars,
A thunder in our restless souls.
You sow new paths behind closed doors,
And make our shattered spirits whole.

Wildchild Jesus, fierce and kind,
Shake the dust from hearts confined.
Lead us where the wild winds blow,
To love the world and let it grow.

In fields untamed, free,
Petals dance with morning breeze,
Nature's spirit wild.

Willie Nelson, with timeless grace,
His guitar and voice set the pace.
On the road again, his music flows,
A legend whose legacy grows

Bare trees greet the chill,
Frosty breath on winter's morn,
Hello, still and cold.

I am scraping my car windows, my fingers cold as ice,
The morning air is biting, a chill that isn't nice.

The engine hums to life, a breath of warmth inside,
But out here in the frosty dawn, there's nowhere to hide.

The world is still and quiet, a frozen, silent scene,
The sun begins to rise, casting a golden sheen.

I finish up my task, my breath a steamy cloud,
Ready to face the day, feeling strong, feeling proud.

In the land of Fizzlecrop,
Where the fizzleberries pop,
Lived a tiny wizzle ***,
With a twisty turny top.

He danced upon the lemon breeze,
And wiggled with the wobbly trees,
Humming tunes of buzzing bees,
In the land of fizzle's ease.

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.

Words and sword, both sharp and keen,
Their letters intertwined, unseen.
One forged in fire, steel and might,
The other born from thoughts in flight.

A sword can pierce the flesh and bone,
Its damage plain, its pain well-known.
But words can cut much deeper still,
Invisible wounds that time can't heal.

A careless word, a thoughtless jest,
Can scar the heart, disturb the rest.
Its echoes linger, haunting dreams,
A silent cry, a muffled scream.

Yet words can also heal and mend,
A soothing balm, a loyal friend.
They lift us up, they make us strong,
A gentle touch, a heartfelt song.

So wield your words with mindful care,
For they possess a power rare.
Choose kindness, let your heart be true,
And brighten someone's world anew.

A sword may rust, its edge may dull,
But words endure, their impact full.
They shape our lives, our paths they chart,
For words and swords both touch the heart.

Words hurt, sword hurts, both can scar,
One cuts deep, the other far.
A blade may wound, but words can bind,
Leaving echoes in the mind.

A careless whisper, a sharp retort,
Can break a heart, distort.
For words, though soft, can wield great power,
Turning sweet moments sour.

So speak with care, let kindness reign,
To heal the wounds, to ease the pain.
For in our words, we hold the key,
To love, to peace, to harmony.

In the world of nouns and verbs, where sentences dance,
Words weave a story, a language of romance.
Adjectives sing softly, describing the scene,
While adverbs glide gracefully, adding a sheen.

Conjunctions hold hands, bridging thoughts like a song,
Prepositions position, showing where they belong.
Pronouns step in, replacing names with some flair,
Determiners guide, ensuring clarity's there.

Interjections burst forth with emotion's delight,
Punctuation marks punctuate, keeping rhythm tight.
And in this land of syntax, where grammar is king,
Each word finds its place, and together they sing.

Hands build dreams with care,
Sweat and strength in harmony,
Day’s toil, night’s repair.

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.

You are worthy:
not for what you carry,  
but for how you rise  
when the weight is unseen.

You are worthy:
in the quiet moments,  
when no one claps,  
and still you choose kindness.

Let no one tell you differently.  
Not the voice that doubts,  
not the silence that stings,  
not the mirror on a hard day.

You are stitched from stories  
that survived the fire,  
braided from breath and belonging,  
woven with wonder.

You are worthy:
as you are,  
as you were,  
as you will be.

Let no one tell you differently.  
Let the poem remind you.  
Let the earth echo it back.  
Let love say it louder.

I stand on mountains, tall and free,
Not just by strength, but what you see.
Your kindness lifts, your light inspires,
Filling my soul with boundless fires.

The valleys low once held my fears,
But now they shimmer, calm and clear.
For every step, for every climb,
Your voice resounds - “You are divine.”

So here I stand, with skies so wide,
Heart unfurled, filled with pride.
You lift me up, you help me soar,
Now grounded strong, yet wanting more.

In the darkest night, you always shine,
A beacon of hope, a light so divine.
Through stormy seas and skies so grey,
Your brilliance guides, showing the way.

With every dawn, your glow renews,
A promise of dreams, of skies so blue.
In every heart, your warmth does stay,
A gentle touch, come what may.

You walked on water, calmed the storm,
In your embrace, we are reborn.
With love and grace, you lead us through,
Jesus, our Saviour, we trust in you.

So keep on shining, bright and true,
For the world is better, because of you.
In every moment, near or far,
You always shine, our guiding star.

A zephyr whispers, bees awake,
But flowers hide for heaven’s sake.
Quick jabs of heat scorch dry land,
Yearn for lush, green fields, now bland.

Global warming brings such doom,
Vexes earth, steals nature’s bloom.
Fuzzy insects fight to find,
Their nectar kiss now left behind.

Polluted air and smoky skies,
Jails of human greed and lies.
Bold actions needed, none too late,
X-ray eyes to see our fate.

The temperature stands at zero,
A world wrapped in winter's embrace,
Frost glistens in the morning light,
Silent whispers fill the still space.

Icicles hang like crystal daggers,
Trees adorned in a silver sheen,
Footprints crunch on the frozen ground,
A serene, untouched winter scene.

Breath forms clouds in the chilly air,
Stars twinkle in the midnight sky,
Nature sleeps in a blanket of white,
As the cold night passes by.