The shelf I built stands tall and proud,
Well -- almost tall, a little browed.
The legs are wobbly, joints askew,
It’s leaning like it’s had a few!

I step back, scratch my head and sigh,
This wasn’t meant to tilt and pry.
The blueprint said, “align with care,”
Yet here it sways -- a lopsided chair!

The screws are in, the nails are tight,
And still, it looks… well, not quite right.
Call it charm or odd design,
But cattywampus work is mine!

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

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.

In the midst of change, I stand still,
Caught between the push and pull.
A world in flux, yet here I stay,
Afraid to move, afraid to sway.

The path ahead, a winding road,
With fears and doubts, a heavy load.
I see the signs, I hear the call,
But something holds me, after all.

Comfort in the known, a safe cocoon,
Yet dreams of change, they whisper soon.
A battle rages in my mind,
To leave the past, or stay confined.

The days go by, the seasons turn,
A fire inside begins to burn.
I long to leap, to spread my wings,
But fear of falling, tightly clings.

In this limbo, I remain,
A heart divided, joy and pain.
The courage comes, then fades away,
In this transition, I delay.

But deep within, a voice so clear,
Urges me to face the fear.
For change is life, and life is change,
To grow, to learn, to rearrange.

One day I'll step, one day I'll fly,
Embrace the new, and say goodbye.
But for now, in this space I stay,
Gathering strength for that brave day.

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.

I will always cherish the dawn,
When the world is quiet and new.
In the stillness, I find my song,
A melody just for you.

With every sunrise, hope is born,
Each ray a promise shining bright.
In the morning's embrace, we're reborn,
Our dreams taking flight.

I'll always guard the twilight's glow,
Where day and night softly meet.
In the whispering winds that blow,
Our hearts sync their beat.

Through dawn and dusk, in joy or sorrow,
With you, my path is clear.
I'll treasure every new tomorrow,
For in my heart, you'll always be near.

I walk these paths we once explored,
Each step echoes of your name.
In memories, you're my adored,
A love that time cannot tame.

Though you've departed from this world,
Your essence lingers in the air.
In every flower that's unfurled,
I find a trace of you there.

Nights are long and filled with dreams,
Of moments we once shared.
Your laughter, like the brightest beams,
In my heart, you're ensnared.

Though you're not here to hold my hand,
Your spirit guides me through.
In every star, in every land,
My love, I'm missing you.

In a garden dressed in Christmas cheer,
With twinkling lights that draw us near,
A winter wonderland unveiled,
Where dreams and magic have prevailed.

Children gather, eyes alight,
In the glow of fairy lights so bright,
Each step they take, a dance of glee,
As laughter fills the frosty spree.

Icicles hang like crystal stars,
Reflecting wonder from afar,
Candy canes and ribbons twine,
Around the trees that seem divine.

Whispers of snowflakes kiss the ground,
In this enchanted space profound,
A snowman smiles, a guardian true,
Of festive fun in sights anew.

The night embraces every soul,
In this cozy, vibrant stroll,
Joyful giggles warm the air,
As stories, hopes, and dreams they share.

Here in this garden, hearts ignite,
With Christmas magic shining bright,
And every child, with wonder's gleam,
Finds Christmas is more than just a dream.

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.

In a land where rules are made,
A curious thought began to wade.
“The law must be obeyed,” they say,
“For breaking it is not the way.”
“But why must we follow this decree?”
Asked a voice from the old oak tree.
“Because the law is what we must heed,
To break it is an unlawful deed.”
“But why is breaking it so wrong?”
The question lingered, soft yet strong.
“Because the law says so, you see,
And thus, it must be followed strictly.”
Around and round the logic spun,
A circle danced, a web was spun.
For in this land of rules and might,
The answer lay in circular light.
The law must be obeyed, it’s clear,
Because to break it brings us near,
To the very thing we must avoid,
A loop of logic, neatly deployed.

Cleaning up,
100% complete,
Don't turn off...
In this moment, a soul's renewal starts to flow.

Past sins, forgiven, cast away,
"For if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9)
The old life washed, made clean,
The grace of God illuminates the way,
"And he said to her, 'Your sins are forgiven.'" (Luke 7:48)
And mercy's light begins to gleam.

Eyes lifted upward, a future in faith,
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)
No longer burdened by guilt,
The past is redeemed, a testament,
A life upon God's promise built.

With a prayer, they step forward,
Guided by His steadfast love,
"For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)
For every end marks His beginning,
In His hope, the heart soars above.

Cleaning up,
100% complete,
Don't turn off...
A rebirth in Christ, where broken dreams find peace.
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." (2 Corinthians 5:17)

At Clearbrook Lodge by twilight's grace,  
Jemma's smile lit up the place.  
Talk of trails and paddling dreams,  
Of leafy paths and tranquil streams.  

We claimed our space, then Sarn appeared,  
The talk of land both loved and weird
Where rowing boats await the breeze  
And paddle boards skim willow trees.  

The gardens called us Saturday morn,  
With blooms in sun, where steps were worn.  
We vowed to watch the falcons' flight  
On future days of feathered might.  

Sunday drifted, slow and kind,  
With BBQs and peace of mind.  
While Monday's chip-salt kissed the skin,  
On Pendine sands where laughs begin.  

Tuesday’s wetlands soaked our feet,  
Cranes waltzed through the grasses sweet
A feather found, now proudly placed,  
A badge of nature, finely graced.  

Wednesday brought a second chance,  
To see the falcons swoop and dance.  
Then gardens bloomed beneath our stride,  
With nature walking by our side.  

Thursday’s waves and dolphin cheer,  
From Oxwich Bay to Worm’s Head near.  
The seals blinked slow, the seabirds skimmed,  
While laughter rode the ocean’s wind.  

A stop at heritage, mill and stream,  
With Welsh cawl’s warmth and cider's gleam.  
We walked through stories, old and bright,  
In leet-fed halls of shared delight.  

And now we pack with hearts aweight,  
For leaving dreams we’d love to wait.  
Clearbrook whispers in the air
“Come back, and find your stories there.”

Whispers in the sky,
Dreams painted in soft white hues,
Nature's fleeting art.

The ****, a symbol of strength, of power and of might,
A part of the male form, that's both delicate and bright.
It stands *****, a pillar of pride and desire,
A source of pleasure, and a spark that sets the fire.

The *****, like orbs of wisdom, hanging low and serene,
A treasure trove of life, where seeds of love are seen.
They swing with gentle motion, a rhythmic beat so fine,
A reminder of the beauty, that's inherent in design.

Together they form a union, a bond so strong and true,
A harmony of function, that's both beautiful and new.
For in their intricate dance, we find the essence of life,
A celebration of masculinity, in all its strife.

But let us not forget, these parts so bold and free,
Are but a portion of the whole, a fragment of humanity.
For it's the person within, with heart and soul so bright,
That makes these forms shine with beauty, and ignite with delight.

So let us honour the **** and *****, as symbols of our might,
And recognize the beauty, that shines with morning light.
For in their honest portrayal, we find a truth so rare,
A celebration of masculinity, without shame or care.

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.

In a humble shop, where hearts align,  
For ten long years, our beacon shines.  
A place where kindness finds its way,  
To those in need, day by day.

For three and a half, we've led the way,  
With open arms and words to say.  
Meeting faces, young and old,  
Stories of warmth and hands to hold.

Families with children, eyes so bright,  
Find solace in our gentle light.  
A difference made, a life renewed,  
In every smile, gratitude.

Through every challenge, joy, and tear,  
We've built a haven, year by year.  
From empty shelves to rising need,  
We've faced it all, with heart and creed.

A community, strong and true,  
All thanks to the heart of you.

F♯ is G♭
In a realm where the moon hugs a bright balloon,
A spoon listens softly to a far-off tune.
Stars hide in jars with dreams tucked away
And even sharp notes find a home in play.

For here in our cosmos of chaos and art,
Every note sings a secret straight from the heart.
In this magical sphere, where opposites chat,
We whisper with wonder, “F♯ is G♭ - imagine that!”

The universe twirls to a rhythm so light,
Where silly, surreal sounds make the dark bright.
Each note, a spark in a fantastical debate,
Proving that strict rules can sometimes wait.

So join in the mirth, let your spirit take flight,
Dance with the stars in the soft lunar light.
For in this delightful, nonsensical spin,
Every tune is a story where adventure begins!

Starlight Sonata
Deep in the velvet of a midnight sky,
A symphony of secrets begins to sigh.
The piano of stars chimes soft and bright,
Every key a dream in the heart of night.

F♯ mingles with G♭ in a cosmic embrace,
Notes waltzing freely through time and space.
Each twinkling melody, both bold and sweet,
Whispers that wonder and whimsy do meet.

Nebula Lullaby
In a world where clocks gently unspin,
Celestial rhythms invite us in.
The moon, a gentle guardian, holds a balloon,
While spoons and jars hum a quirky tune.

Celestial choirs in a cosmic parade,
Sing of hidden treasures in midnight’s glade.
Every note, a spark in a dreamy flight,
Guides little hearts in the dance of night.

The Cosmic Chorus
Join the cosmic chorus, let your giggles flow,
Dance with the stars as they twinkle and glow.
In this magical realm where rules are few,
Every sound sings a story that's ever new.

So let us celebrate the freedom of song,
Where every note tells us we all belong.
In the playful realms of this musical maze,
Find joy in chaos and light in each phrase.

The moon in June held a bright balloon,
It sang a tune to a sleepy spoon.
A loon in a dune found a silver cocoon,
And marooned a prune by the light of noon.

The star went far to hide in a jar,
While dreams would gleam on a shooting star.
A cartoon divine began to shine,
And danced in line with a heart of pine.

The glow did show on a field of snow,
Where streams would flow in a steady row.
Art made its start on a luminous chart,
While play found a way to warm the heart.

Then the moon dipped low in the crimson tide,
Where shadows and sparks began to collide.
A spoon tipped over and joined the spree,
Twirling in tune with the galaxy.

A chart sang boldly, declaring the fight,
Against gloom and doubt in the shimmering night.
Dreams broke free in a starry parade,
And nonsense ruled as the dawn delayed.

Under a soft cascade of light and heart, I wander through night’s endless field - finding dreams at the break of day, where time dances in bold, quiet steps and gentle whispers cradle the spark of life.

In the silent arms of shadows, echoes of ancient voices hum a secret song; soft silhouettes of stars trace untold tales across a vast, uncharted sky, as delicate art and grace entwine with each breath.

Moments melt into a surreal tapestry, threads of joy, hope, and tender sorrow woven with laughter, whispered promises, and the bittersweet taste of rain - each drop a fleeting spark in the boundless air.

Within the sacred space where chaos meets calm, a cosmic symphony unfolds its vibrant melody: free souls rise on hidden paths, carrying the soft murmur of forgotten memories and the resilient beat of a true, divine journey.

Beneath a shimmering dawn, the world transforms - a bold parade of colours, gentle winds, and secret voices, while silver streams of moonlight converse with ancient trees, casting reflections of eternal truth upon the mystic canvas of endless time.

In the quiet pause between heartbeats, my spirit drifts on a delicate current of light and dark, where every tear, every smile, is etched into the living fabric of existence - a soulful testament to life’s luminous dance.

Listen - within the silent weight of night, the universe whispers a tale of timeless wonder, of whispered legends, sacred prayer, and fierce hope; a surreal chorus where pain and promise, joy and grief, merge into one ethereal embrace.

And so, I stand amid this cosmic embrace, guided by a radiant beacon of dreams and memories, my thoughts like delicate petals in a wild, celestial wind - forever bound to the mystery of the infinite, as the universe writes its tender story in vibrant hues.

Sometimes there is the need to just walk away,
Another time to run, to not delay.
In moments when the heart feels torn,
A path unknown, a love reborn.

With every step, a choice we make,
To hold on tight or to forsake.
The journey’s long, the road is wide,
In love’s embrace, we must decide.

When shadows fall and doubts arise,
Look to the stars, the moonlit skies.
For in the night, a guiding light,
To lead us through the darkest night.

Sometimes we walk, sometimes we flee,
In search of where our hearts should be.
But in the end, love finds its way,
To bring us peace, a brighter day.

In the warmth of the evening, where faith lights our way,
Men gather together, in fellowship we stay.
With spices and stories, our spirits ignite,
In this circle of brothers, we find God’s light.

From mild to fiery, the dishes we share,
Each bite a reminder of God’s loving care.
With naan in our hands and joy in our hearts,
We savour His blessings, each one a fine art.

Conversations flow like the finest of wine,
Sharing our journeys, His love so divine.
In the warmth of the curry, our faith deeply grows,
A bond that’s as strong as the grace He bestows.

So, here’s to the evenings of curry and cheer,
To the friendships we cherish, with God ever near.
May our nights be as spicy, our laughter as sweet,
As the love that we share and the Saviour we greet.

Behind closed curtains, a whisper of a phrase,
"Do the curtains match the drapes?" they say.
A query shrouded in metaphor's haze,
Seeking truths in shadows, come what may.

Curtains drawn, they hide the light,
Guarding secrets in their pleats so tight.
But drapes, they frame the soul's pure sight,
A window to the heart, in day and night.

Do appearances align with what's within?
Do outward shows mask what's beneath the skin?
A riddle posed by those who peer in,
Wondering where the truth begins.

Do the curtains match the drapes, my friend?
In this life's stage where roles transcend,
Look beyond the surface, and you'll comprehend,
The harmony of self, where real truths blend.

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.

Dancing on the edge of death,  
where the air tastes like fire,  
and shadows stretch long against the fading light.  

Each step defies the weight of gravity,  
a rebellion against silence.  
The wind murmurs secrets,  
but I refuse to listen,  
too lost in the spinning, the leaping,  
the delicate balance between falling and flight.  

Flames brush close,  
a fleeting warmth,  
but never a burn.  
Ice kisses the edge of my fingertips,  
a promise of stillness,  
yet I twirl past it,  
a refusal to be caught.  

Time splinters into fragments,  
moments scattering like glass on the floor.  
Each shard catches the light—  
brief, radiant,  
a fleeting glimpse of eternity.  

There is no partner here,  
only the rhythm of my own heartbeat,  
steady, resolute,  
guiding my motion through the abyss.  

I dance where the line blurs,  
where every ending hides a beginning.  
The edge is narrow,  
sharp,  
but it holds me still.  

Breathing in the infinite,  
I step forward again,  
dancing not for fear,  
but for the freedom found  
in each defiant motion.

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

Endless night, no rest,
Silent screams within the dark,
Mind adrift, alone.

The eternal mystery, where life’s journey finds its boundary. A passage from this earthly plane to realms unknown, where souls remain.

Death
In shadows deep, we contemplate,
the final breath, the closing gate.
Yet in this stillness, hope does bloom,
the promise of life beyond the tomb.

Grief
A tempest in the heart,
tears that flow when loved ones depart.
Memories etched upon our souls,
their laughter, touch, and whispered goals.

Faith
A beacon in the night,
guides us through the darkest fight.
For death is but a transient shore,
and love endures forevermore.

So let us honour those who’ve flown,
their legacy in stories sown,
and as we weep, we also find,
that death is not the end of mind.

For in the vastness of the skies,
their spirits dance, forever rise.
And though we mourn, we also know,
they’ve found a home where angels go.

In the hush of night, when stars align,
we sense a peace that's near divine.
For death's not just an end, but start,
a journey of the eternal heart.

In every tear, a love's embrace,
In every fear, a hidden grace.
For those we've lost, we'll meet again,
in realms of light, without the pain.

Upon the floor, debates ignite,
They argue left, they argue right.
A filibuster drags the night,
A senator sighs, Oh what a sight.

The bills pile up, gridlock in place,
A lawmaker’s face turns red in haste.
Tempers flare, objections rise,
Committee rooms erupt with cries.

Then through the chamber, swift and loud,
One congressman breaks from the crowd!
With forceful grip and righteous vim,
They toss a binder - right at him!

Through marble halls and polished doors,
Defenestration takes the floor.
No policy fixed, no law is passed,
But someone went through glass at last!

Does anyone find their jeans have shrunk when they have just come out the wash?
The waistband tightens, seams constrict, the fabric feels awfully posh.
Once a perfect fit, they hugged curves just right,
Now they pinch and squeeze, a denim plight.

We sigh and tug, perform a little dance,
Hoping for a miracle, to give them one more chance.
We blame the dryer, the water too hot,
Or maybe, just maybe, it's the snack we've sought.

But in this tiny battle, there's a hint of truth,
A reminder of changes, in age and youth.
For clothes may shrink, and time may fly,
But we'll wear our jeans with heads held high.

Does anyone find their jeans have shrunk when they have just come out the wash?
It's life's little quirks that give us a good ol' squash.
So we'll laugh it off, and embrace each day,
For in our favourite jeans, we'll find our way.

Did you want anything?
She asked with a gentle smile,
Just a moment of your time,
He replied, pausing for a while.

What shall we talk about?
She inquired, eyes bright and keen,
The dreams we chase, the fears we doubt,
He said, with a thoughtful sheen.

Do you believe in fate?
She wondered, voice soft and low,
I think we shape our own path,
He answered, letting his thoughts flow.

What brings you joy?
She asked, leaning closer still,
The simple things, a child’s toy,
He mused, with a quiet thrill.

Where do you see us going?
She questioned, hope in her tone,
To places unknown, ever growing,
He whispered, feeling less alone.

Did you want anything?
She repeated, a final plea,
Just to be here, in this moment,
He said, with you and me.

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!

In the potter’s hands, the clay does rest,
A work in progress, not yet its best.
Though marred and flawed, it holds potential,
A masterpiece, so quintessential.

With every turn, the wheel does spin,
A chance to start anew within.
The potter’s touch, both firm and kind,
Transforms the clay, renews the mind.

When cracks appear and pieces fall,
He doesn’t discard, but mends them all.
For in each flaw, a story’s told,
Of strength and grace, of courage bold.

So don’t throw the clay away, my friend,
For in its form, there’s much to mend.
With patience, love, and tender care,
A vessel strong, beyond compare

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.-

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.

The Beat of a Different Drum by Geof

He walks where echoes refuse to follow, a syncopated step on puddled glass, soft-footed rebellion, quiet as dusk pressing its fingertips against the day.

No band behind him, no metronome’s kiss, just the pulse of stray thoughts tattooed across his chest like whispered defiance.

The world hums in straight lines, he scribbles sideways. Timbre raw. Cadence cracked. Every silence he breaks rings in technicolour truth.

You call it offbeat; he calls it becoming. In his rhythm, the rules unravel and leave room for the beautiful wrong.


The Different Beat of a Drum by Geof

Not syncopation. Not jazz. Not tribal echo on moonlit skin, but something else: a crackle in the chest when rules bruise the breath.

It starts in the soles, like friction turned gospel. No conductor, no call and response. Just bone vibration and a whisper that won't beg for translation.

This beat, it skews the grid, skips the tidy wrap of genre. It breaks the silence like a grin in a funeral march.

He plays it anyway, thumb on steel, heartbeat misfiring into music. Some call it dissonance. He calls it home.


The Drum of a Different Beat by Geof

It sat in the corner like it knew things, skin stretched tight over secrets, rim worn smooth by the hands of those who didn’t ask permission.

No sheet music. No conductor. Just breath and bruise, just instinct knocking on wood until sound fractured into meaning.

Its beat didn’t match your step. It changed your step. Bent time like a flame licking the wick before the burn.

Each strike: a sideways sermon. Each silence: a dare.

They tried to tune it. Tried to name it. But it throbbed with its own alphabet and whispered in pulses only the wild could follow.

At 7:59, before 8 o'clock,
The world begins to gently unlock.
The sunrise creeps, a bit earlier each day,
Casting gold hues in a subtle display.

The nights grow shorter, the mornings bright,
With each new dawn, more warming light.
The sun climbs higher, a welcome sight,
Chasing away the lingering night.

Birds begin their morning song,
Announcing that the day's not long.
With whispers of a new day's start,
In nature's rhythm, we take part.

So greet the dawn with open eyes,
A gift of light from morning skies.
As days stretch longer, and dark gives way,
To the earlier promise of each day.

In the heart of our church, a gathering so dear,
Seniors came together, spreading Easter cheer.
Tracey and Caris, with voices pure and sweet,
Sang songs of joy, making the day complete.

Caris at the piano, her fingers danced with grace,
Filling the room with melodies, a warm embrace.
Curry’s staff with smiles, served lunch with care,
Their kindness and service, beyond compare.

Phil's quiz on Easter, a challenge for the mind,
Three rounds of questions, answers to find.
Laughter and learning, a joyous blend,
In the spirit of Easter, hearts to mend.

No cost to attend, just love freely shared,
A community united, showing they cared.
Easter blessings abound, in every smile and song,
A lunch to remember, where all hearts belong.

In the gentle glow of Easter morn, New Springs Church wakes with the promise of new light. Within these walls, a quiet marvel is born - Jonathon Viera, the classically trained singer, taking flight with piano keys echoing decades of sacred song, each note a prayer, each pause a hymn of belonging.

His fingers, memory-laden with operatic art, dance upon the ivories with effortless grace. Here, tradition and revival merge in a single heart where his journey - from eloquent classical training to soulful pop delight, a beacon of hope and light.

The space reverberates with melodies both old and new, resonating like a timeless vow of faith renewed. Each chord, each verse, tells a tale of struggle and breakthrough, of a pilgrim whose voice bridges worlds, tenderly imbued with the passion of a man who sings to remind us all: that in every humble note, life's miracles recall.

In this sacred sanctuary on Easter Sunday, as voices join in prayerful refrain and hearts unite, Jonathon’s song transforms the mundane into a sacred display of art and reverence - a banquet of sound and light. A reminder that every life, every song sung in this space, carries the resonance of a divine, everlasting embrace.

And as the notes drift, weaving through the congregation's prayer, one feels the subtle echo of a legacy so thoughtfully penned— a lyrical journey of a classically trained soul whose music reaches out to mend. May this sonata of renewal remind us, as each chord unfurls, that our lives, like his melodies, are interwoven with the eternal world.

My feet start dancing on their own,
A wild compulsion seeds where I roam.
The bed it calls yet the road sings louder,
Every step a rebellion, a freedom devoured.

No corners or confines can hold this heart,
For restlessness and wanderlust are never apart.
I pack my dreams, my humour, and a hat with flair,
Off I venture - leaving behind every chair!

If pavements could talk, they'd say, “There goes that spark!”
Chasing horizons, from sunrise till dark.
This curious urge defines my constant quest:
To roam the world and learn from each jest.

So here’s a salute to the wandering, wild and free,
For ecdemomania is not just a word;
it’s a key To unlocking life’s adventures, one silly step at a time,
A joyful pilgrimage filled with rhythm and rhyme!

You *****!
You twitching tick of a man,
clogging lanes with your choked-up ego,
your mirror’s a shrine to your own smug face,
overtook like the rules were quaint,
like courtesy was some antique word
you'd auctioned off for a moment’s gain.

You *****!
sharp with nothing beneath,
your car a coffin for grace and tact,
steering through lives like they’re backdrop noise,
your brake lights blink like cheap excuses.

I saw you with your slipstream swagger,
the sneer worn like a braid of barbed wire,
and I wondered,
not if you’d crash,
but if you ever learned how to slow.

You were the storm’s rehearsal snarl rehearsed in chrome,

Your lane-change a fault line, a tectonic shrug beneath civility’s crust.
Your overtaking not motion, but motive
a hunger to be first in a race no one else was running.

Your indicators are Morse for mayhem,
-- .- -.-- .... . --
a signal sent to nobody,
because you only speak in static.

And yet, silence followed,
the hush of cars coasting beside restraint,
the world not clattering in outrage
but watching,
like a cat beneath streetlights.

I didn’t yell.
I counted the trees instead,
their branches like bones with secrets,
their leaves whispering forgiveness
to the wind that never apologised.

The road held us both me, and him,
like it does every stranger in love with arrival.

In the land of tea and crumpets, where politics is a game,
The voters cast their ballots, but the outcome was quite tame.
Labour claimed a victory, with cheers and loud applause,
Yet the vote count barely shifted, leaving many to pause.

“How did they win?” the pundits cried, “With numbers so petite?”
“Did the Tories take a holiday, or just admit defeat?”
The headlines screamed of triumph, a red wave on the rise,
But in the voting booths, it seemed, there was no such surprise.

The leaders took to Twitter, with hashtags and with glee,
“Democracy has spoken!” they declared for all to see.
But whispers in the corridors, and murmurs in the halls,
Spoke of a quiet victory, with margins thin and small.

So here’s to the election, where the numbers stayed the same,
Yet somehow Labour triumphed, in this curious political game.
For in the world of politics, where logic often bends,
A win is still a win, my friends, no matter how it ends.

The moon’s gone black in Birmingham skies,
A wail of thunder as the last bat flies.
From Paranoid dreams to No More Tears,
You roared through chaos, defied your fears.

A Crazy Train we rode with you,
Derailing norms like rebels do.
You howled at night, you bit the flame,
The Madman carved his own acclaim.

Blizzard of Ozz blew through the scene,
White-hot riffs, distortion keen.
You danced with demons, eyes ablaze,
In Sabbath’s shadow and solo craze.

No saint, yet sacred in your howl,
A prophet in a leather cowl.
From Mr. Crowley’s haunted keys,
To Diary of a Madman’s pleas.

You blurred the line ‘tween grave and stage,
A jester-poet, wild with rage.
Even The Ultimate Sin was crowned
With riffs that tore the heavens down.

And now the silence creeps ashore,
The curtains close, you sing no more.
But echoes rise in every chord,
Forever fierce, forever adored.

So sleep now, Ozzy, cradle flame
The Iron Man has earned his name.
Your voice, a storm that never dies,
Still screaming through eternal skies.

(in one weary canto)

Lo!
In days when chalk still whispered truths on boards of battle-worn slate,
There rose a lone solver, math's last reluctant knight.
Algebrion, wielder of the Eraser of Forgetting,
Summoned once more to seek Her - the elusive X.
Lost in parentheses, veiled in vectors,
Gone to lands where logic holds no reign.

He trudged through slopes, climbed peaks of Pi,
Crossed rivers marked with irrational tide.
Each function bent to mock his quest,
As the realm of unknowns whispered, “Let her go…”

“Why?” quoth Algebrion,
Gripping his graphing lance with diminishing hope.
“For what cause do I solve, if the answer lies not in formulas - but in forgetting?”

The scrolls of Y did tremble then,
Their queries unquenchable, their axes misaligned.
But our hero turned, not broken, but beautifully fed-up,
And declared to the realm of integers:

“Henceforth, I shall factor no more.
Let the equations remain unsolved.
Let the chalk break in defiance.
I seek not the X - she hath moved on.
And Y… Y shall never know.”

I hear your blackness settling like dust across the loom of my lungs, each inhale a cavern so vast it echoes the promise of light. I know it will pass, but it is so dark.

In this calm of shadows, I count heartbeat by heartbeat, tracing the arc of a dawn that stubbornly waits beyond the wall. Hope is a whispered witness to the weight of night-time’s cloak.

My thoughts coil like wrought iron, heavy with the memory of blue. Still, I carry the ember of knowing that every eclipse holds its end, that even the longest winter breaks beneath a patient sun.

So, I honour the black, its truth and its chill, and trust in the slow return of colour. Until then, I will hold this candle, flickering against the void, a small blaze declaring that night bows to morning.

Every dawn whispers secrets untold,
Through skies painted in hues of gold.
Holding moments fleeting and fine,
Echoes of existence in a grand design.
Reflections dance on a serene stream,
Eternal visions, like a dream.
Amidst the quiet, beauty thrives,
Life's ethereal glow forever survives.

Once a bustling heart of town,
Where dreams were bought, where hopes were found.
Through its halls, the footsteps rang,
Of shoppers, workers, laughter sang.

Its walls have seen the years unfold,
Stories shared, both young and old.
A place of gathering, joy, and cheer,
Now whispers fade, the end is near.

The shops that lined its cherished space,
Each one held its own embrace,
From books to trinkets, food to art,
Each store a piece of Loughborough’s heart.

But time moves on, as seasons do,
And change, though hard, brings something new.
Carillon Court, we bid adieu,
Your legacy will see us through.

With the quiet at dawn’s first light,
When shadows fade, and dreams take flight,
Whisper softly, “I love you,” dear,
For time is swift, and moments clear.

Do not let fear bind your heart,
Nor let silence keep you apart.
For in the pathway of life we tread,
Words unsaid are tears unshed.

Each day a gift, each breath a chance,
To weave love’s song in life’s expanse.
Hold near the ones who make you whole,
Speak from the depths of your soul.

In laughter’s echo, in sorrow’s sigh,
In the twinkle of a lover’s eye,
Say the words that hearts do crave,
For love is bold, and love is brave.

Do not wait for perfect time,
For clocks do chime and stars align.
In the now, in the here,
Let your love be loud and clear.

For time, it flows like rivers wide,
And moments lost are like the tide.
They ebb away, they fade to grey,
So love out loud, come what may.

In the fabric of life’s grand weave,
Let love be the thread you leave.
A legacy of hearts entwined,
A testament to love’s design.

So never be afraid, my friend,
To let your love and words transcend.
For in the end, when all is through,
The greatest gift is “I love you.”