Winsome

Winsome is a sense most rare.

It reaches out and grasps the air.

Sparkles seem to form like dew

and suddenly things just feel renewed!

The gift flows out with such sweet peace.

Unconscious really, its full of ease.

The one who’s brushed by its caress

can feel the shift , it’s like a kiss!

The harsh can never live in this.

Their fingers always shifting blame.

The haughty rule with fiercest stare

while children innocently eat its fare.

This broken world it longs for grace,

that comes in soft with joy’s embrace.

The one who lives as winsome’s twin

will always have what work can’t win.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Entering 2019

To be safe I must comprehend.

To comprehend , I must have order.

To have order I must control.

or

I leap out of my bed to face the new with hope and splendid rage.

Not rage that kills but force that leaps me over fear and dread to see from up above.

 

The floating pieces must settle down

and fit together as if each part of a jigsaw find their place.

Yet when confusion reigns, order flees.

Disconnected pieces lie scattered all around.

Pieces just don’t fit.

In fact the horror is -they are the wrong pieces!

Pieces from another place and time.

They can not fit and yet it seems a tragic loss

to simply throw them all away.

or

I claim the spark of creativity that ignites, that fills the sky with eloquence so bright. The surge that sings of dreams unseen and hearts that search within the glorious sunrise colours, for limitless opportunities in the new that springs – as if from frozen ground.

 

Confusion reigns and so my fear sweeps in to dominate.

Then haunting truth comes to light,

I‘ve misunderstood and so I need what now is gone.

The future tears the frame of my yesterdays!

or

I know I can not know, and yet I leap in spirit bright because there’s one who holds my heart and sings with confidence and life.

 

Still for each of us the new flows through.

It comes each day – both swift and sure.

The heart can quail, the mind can fray, as new things hint of change so different from yesterday.

The urge to freeze, to best ignore,

the flux that seems unsettled –

with dreadful tones of dire bells that warn.

So the clutter of our minds grows old.

I shrink from knowing, to settle into dull.

I’d best be bored and never look the future in the eye.

Until I die, bypassed forlorn.

Or

I rise with Life, my spirit knows while mind is left behind, still placing pieces in the stream that will ignite creativity’s delight and kiss my hope with colours bright and order formed from sprit’s woven tapestry and live.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Mingled lives

I do believe, I’m called to live

so much beyond myself.

It matters not just where I walk.

I give myself and bless the life

that grants me some new spice.

So as I leave, I feel some grief

as hearts with life connect.

I give away and then receive,

more than I could’ve known.

Our mingled lives are better off.

We’ve touched; the other’s sown.

I live with more,

cause I’ve opened doors

and look how I have grown!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Journey into Love: Vitality

Love is vital, it’s full of jazz!

It paints the flowers bright as sky.

Its pulsing song lifts feet on heights

and makes a weary day turn light.

The jazzy beat sweeps me to dance,

and moonlit beams create eternity.

I breathe you in!

My heart bursts forth-

I cannot live without love’s light!

I’ve tasted springs of vibrant joy,

I know that sparkle’s electricity

scribes my life with love’s vivacious zing.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Words unformed

Spirit spins a hazy vision

as it calls out in the night.

Words unformed must take on substance

when a soul can not take flight.

In the churning mess of chaos

as new sounds coalesce in form,

then the beauty of orchestration

fills a score with Life’s delight.

Spirit settles into secrets

almost haunting with their flair

as the ego seeks to banish

all of generosity’s varied fare.

When I rise, identity’s sparkle

leaps in joy out to the earth.

Then the drab does kiss the reason

for the song that breathes new birth.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Belizean roller coaster

Flying down a Belizean road,

jungle flies by green and bold.

It seems as if the driver knows

that greenery keeps us safe as gold!

 

I on the other hand, see the edge.

It’s blurred, yet fills my heart with dread!

This bus is not an Indy car,

so I might soon be flying loose!

 

I’m hanging on with hands gripped fast,

my knees they brace, yet still I shift.

The gal beside is sitting calm,

she has this knack to keep her ground.

I find I’m pressed into her arm

which I sure hope does not alarm.

I would have stopped, I really would,

if this old bus just hadn’t slewed!

 

And now the bus slows to a crawl.

The city’s flow is kind of slow!

Roller coasters will now be tame

cause this old bus was really game!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Journey into Love: Laughter

Love comes in with laughter bright.

Companions sing in whimsy’s light.

Walking through this bubbling brook

that’s love’s caress in easy peace,

while slowing floating as she wades.

Lives entwined, I breathe and move

with comfort born from a tickley kiss.

This makes me chuckle once again,

my face just shines with smile’s light.

I know I’m full, replete and still,

because I’ve felt love’s cheery bliss.

Laughter’s music’s become my song!

Author – Bill Tidsbury