History seems so very clear

until the loser rises up to taunt.

The storyline once sublime,

is now comprised of twists that shock.

What was sure, overlooked some facts,

which when considered truly,

change the story!

The responsibility lies, with me who hears-

Will I treasure truth-

or take a pill that calms me?

Truth is hard, it can stick in your craw!

It’s quirky points can be quite raw!

Truth it’s said,

can seem like fiction,

nothing’s more strange,

than fact’s rendition!

Curiosity calls – “live less knowing”,

‘cause what I know may yet be punted.

It’s through permission, I release a shift.

Perspective comes, a different flowing

– I see my tale -now I’m the hunted.

Tension lives ‘cause I can’t see beyond.

Yet live I must, though now more humble.

So I will change and shift my ground,

the truth lies out there – to be found.

Confidence grows when I am sure,

that things exist to search and find.

My role’s not been to control the stars,

I live to dance as truth kills lies.

When I am still and dare to see,

I’ll find my morrow kissing sweetly,

as truth has ripened and now I’m free.

Author – Bill Tidsbury



Wrinkles are written as I touch and flow.

Furrows formed beneath the weight of grief,

strike history’s story for all to see.


Joy’s most gracious glow

leaves marks upon my glass.

As I lift life’s frothy splash to cheer vitality!

Memories mark my journey’s vibrant song.


Spirit slips within,

unseen and smooth as glass.

Life’s electricity vibrates the humming strings,

tuning orchestra’s ode

to the fullness of beauty’s hope.


Community mixes fine,

the curious blend of travellers dreams.

Hearts alive are free to dance –

intoxicated within encounter’s spice,

blending heart and spirit

marking harmony’s face around my eyes.


So now I wear my journey,

as nature’s tattoo etched on skin.

I watch with growing wonder,

– the grace that flows around.

Delicate ink scribes this moment’s time.


Moments write my story,

smoothing pain’s erosion in the balm of Life.

Forgiving opens windows,

renewing soul’s elasticity.


Silken caresses soften skin,

releasing eternity’s peace,

and may face is free!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Its true

The beauty flirts

with eyes of hope

she needs to find

her way to flee.

Her life is hard

not what was dreamed.

“What ifs” have filled

her till she screams.

Yet each new day

comes as before,

with token hints

there could be more.

So as she waits,

her heart hides deep,

her face it smiles

while spirit weeps.

But still the hope

it will not die.

Each face that comes

is seen with sighs.

Is this the one

who is to come-

who’ll break the chains

and sing I’ve won!

So each new day

there is a look,

reserved for one

who might be real-

to share the story

and bring in glory!

If only life could be so true,

and I could be alive with you!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

On a swing

Little girl on a swing, she delights me as she sings.

She is four and she adores, one who laughs and plays some more.

Little boy her friend so fine, they can fight and not be kind.

When competing for my hand they become a lot less grand.


Little girl she seems to find, so much love in all who’re kind.

Yet she’s learning life can be, something hard that makes you flee.

Little boy, he feels so proud, when He knows he is allowed,

to assist in chores for Dad, He believes he’s quite the lad.


Little girl, she’ll grow up soon, join the mess that fills each room.

She’ll forget this wondrous joy, use her body as’er employ.

Little boy may learn to hate, the gentle soul that is his trait.

He’ll reduce his life to fights, pushing hard to take his rights.


So we grow as tender shoots, ’til foul deeds crush with their boots.

What was grand is soon forgot, fantasy stills our deadly thoughts.

Still, I see in each young eye, a promised hint that God draws nigh.

I do believe in wonders born, cause treasure’s formed in what’s forlorn!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Securely me

Honesty moves a Daddy’s heart. He sees me as I am – so why shouldn’t I? Since this one who loves, first touched my being, He’s ever only called me into dreams.

Transparency is hard to value, when others seem quick to judge. Yet when I’m in the Spirit’s presence, my flesh just tingles as His fire disrobes my shame – and I am free!

Tranquility drapes expansively as I settle into love. The one who holds my gaze has eyes that flame and yet weep tears. He died to live that I might be, forever found securely me.

Author – Bill Tidsbury