Oh so free

Small parrots, loud parrots, flocking declare-

“we are the owners of all that is air!”

If life could be measured only by sound,

then surely their claim

would be their’s all year round!

 

Small lizards, fast lizards sitting in sun.

lying in pleasure  except when they run!

If life’s delight could tolerate heat,

then all of my memories

could be sampled still sweet!

 

Small child, bright child, swings unaware,

Singing so blissful without any care.

If all of my focus can dance oh so free,

then sparkles aplenty

will caress those like me!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Fulfilled

Fallen son-

mercy shines!

Nothing’s lost-

grace abounds.

Women’s desire

caught between.

Hope’s wrestling

for beauty’s dream.

Child’s eyes,

Bright and clear,

questions sparkle-

she’s alive!

Journey lives

with Spirit’s fire.

Life’s fulfilled –

glorious riffs!

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

Open windows

eyes, those of a child full of life, those of the poor so enduring.

those who sorrow pouring streams, those who’re merry, leak so cheery!

eyes that speak of what’s inside, tell us clearly we must not hide.

 

eyes that sparkle speak of life,

eyes that sing while glistening.

eyes that give and then caress,

leap igniting hope so sweet.

eyes that kiss are ohh most rare!

 

eyes so vacant seem so blind

eyes that need and then connive.

Always desperate so intent

shift to rob and then to hide

eyes that die while still alive.

 

eyes, they reap from what’s within.

eyes, they rouse up dreams galore.

I live life and really give

living laughter through my gaze.

eyes, they share what I will dare!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Feeling hopeful

Children racing, small ones learning, it all becomes a merry whirl.

Life is lived at pace unheard of, in the great big adult world.

When you focus on the brilliance, wonder slides on like a glove,

you can find the hours fleeing as you fill your day in love.

 

When we think of things that drain us, when we ponder on how life whirls,

we so quickly sense the horror, lurking, drawing us down in swirls.

When I tire, and feel unfocused; when I yearn for life that glows,

that is when I need awaking- “Save me from this icy floe!”

 

When the day ends, children mellow, when the energy’s all been spent.

They will look at you with wonder, snuggle up to know they’re loved.

They are hopeful, they are resting, knowing certain that you will tend,

all their treasures ’til the morrow,when this night comes to an end.

 

So again, I’m feeling hopeful, that each day will greet the sun.

I will greet the joy of living, in the dance with youth who hum.

I can spend without despairing,  that my heart will turn to dust.

You’re the one who holds me dearly as  I settle into trust.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Colour’s reminder

Yellow,

the brilliance

trapped within the source

of light with life and radiance.

 

Blue,

the grace

that lights the heavens

when all is clear and life is light.

 

Purple,

a colour

that kids who play

paint for the dragon fierce who cries!

 

Red,

the pain,

the sacrifice that’s given

to bring to life the love that’s joy.

 

Golden orange,

the blessing

of day’s grand end

when darkness comes to dance with dreams.

Author – Bill Tidsbury