Eyes that sing

What I seek I rarely find

it really is a curiosity!

I thirst for things I can’t define

and when I drink I don’t find wine.

It slips within and causes ache

and then I wish I hadn’t tried.

 

The promise always seems alive,

I see it clearly before my eyes.

I reach to touch, the vapour goes –

now I feel the fool once more.

I want to hide; I yearn to slide,

beneath my chair and simply die.

 

Yet still the thirst won’t go away.

It is so real, it cries for more.

There’s so much water within an ocean,

yet none of it will answer thirst!

Can there be thirst without some drink,

that satisfies and doesn’t stink?

 

And so I wander seeking rest,

to drink – to find inheritance.

To grasp and hold the things that thrive,

that flourish in a heart that’s live.

I know this thirst can still be quenched,

’cause eyes that sing are satisfied!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Solitude’s intent

Solitude

bares the soul,

and opens wide the silence

that quiets raucous noise.

 

Quiet,

unleashes

clamouring voices within

that stir up hidden fears.

 

Voices

multiply

as I lose sight of living

and only seek to please.

 

Vision

comes as  breath.

Electric pulse that frees my heart

to be the hidden me.

 

Freedom!

Scandalous

vitality of being

that only I can see.

 

Unique,

yet in love,

with my perfect counterpart.

Together we create.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Shoe story

Smooth shoes, slippery mud,

Makes fancy dancing in the street.

Cautious stretch, so you don’t get wet,

when water plays around your feet.

 

O my goodness! What’s that smell?

My foot stepped on what wasn’t mud.

Now the puddle’s my best friend,

rinsing of this shame in flood!

 

Step along, so clean above,

yet now my shoes speak of my slog.

What once shone shiny and so clean,

seem like friends of the neighbour’s hog!!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Life lived

Life lived is gritty.

I wrestle with such broken things

and find my nails have filled with crud!

It’s hard to grasp things when their slimed,

they slip away, and then you find,

they hit you on the head!

 

Life lived is bumpy.

I merrily drift along – my life intact,

until a turn slams me to the ground!

And then as potholes throw me round,

I find I’m bruised, and then with dread

I hit that spot again!

 

Life lived is precious.

I find a hand supporting me.

Your eyes reach out to ease my pain.

And suddenly I’m me again!

I find a joy. I share a laugh.

Sharing opens doors to gold!

 

Life lived is positive.

I’m free again to hold your hand.

I hold a child tight and how she sings!

Kids snuggle in and whisper things,

that open wide such happy tunes.

Then eyes alight  – we dance!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Hope’s belief

Small delights as children play,

testing roles they’ll lead in life.

Adults watching stop and grin,

awkward copies of all that’s been.

 

Small boy swings with deliberate force.

His miss is awkward – brings surprise!

He still is learning that what he sees,

is different than that for which he sighs.

 

Sweet little girl loving times of peace.

resting happy in the folds of love.

Smiles that melt with hope’s belief,

that adults strong can bring relief.

 

Children teaching as they learn.

These are gifts so often spurned.

Yet if gentle hearts will learn,

that all as children must be reborn.

Author – Bill Tidsbury