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Are you a social butterfly?

Fluttering from tree to tree?

Are you like the Red Admiral?

So bold and daring, fighting to be free?

Or are you trying to escape the chaos
That cities can bring?

Or maybe you are the social butterfly
That has to have everything

Whoever you are, the next time you are
fluttering from tree to tree

Stop to think, where it is that you would
really like to be,

Where it is that you would like to rest your wings

In the city or countryside?

Where you may still continue to be a social butterfly,

Do consider, not breaking too many hearts

Respect this as a brand new start

Sometimes you may have to pay the price,

For being so bold and free

Whenever you flutter from tree to  tree,

It is only you that can decide

Where to settle your wings

It is only you
That can change many things

By Gillian Sims

My garden is a place i love to be

It’s like an island set in a tempestuous sea

Where i can withdraw from the problems of life

From a world torn with trouble and strife

It’s a place where contentment can be found

In appreciating the beauty which is all around

Above the silence there can be heard

The buzzing of the bee or the chirping fo a bird

It’s a place where many colours catch the eye

I can behold the beauty of the butterfly

If one looks closely there can be seen

Signs of where the aphis and slugs have been

Sometimes i get the feeling that i am not on my own

And that other power seeks to make its presence known

The fragrance of the flowers provides the air

And god seems to be speaking to me there

When i contemplate the power of the one in control

Peace and serenity descend upon my soul

I ask myself how did all this come to be?

And without god it must remain a mystery.

Ron Martin

In March exact shadows on snow,

blue in the spectrum overtakes lavender;

the pillows of vapor at a slow bedroom gallop.

Up, up, the whistle pierces; the burn

of one and one, couples the rising

yearn, twin twine, dare,

and thickening flash in shoals.

Even deep-rooted conifers,

their green wax fangs open,

hustling in the languorous swells.

— Ruth Stone

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Can you catch a Leprechaun

He’s a tricky little man

You must be very clever

To catch one if you can

leprechaun’s are very greedy

They like gold and shiny things

They are very fast and speedy

So if you ever catch one

See the luck it bring’s

By Thomas Sims

A little leprechaun sat pondering

Saint Patrick’s Day was fast approaching

For he wanted to learn to sing

But his voice needed coaching

So he went to see his friend Mick

Who’s voice was so sweet and true

I want to sing like an angel

Would you tell me what to do?

Let me hear you sing said Mick

His voice brought Mick to tears

The sound of his voice was so terrible

Mick stood with his hands over his ears

Mick was not put off by his voice

Placing the leprechaun inside a fairy ring

Did a jig of magical mystery

To enable the leprechaun to sing

Then the leprechaun was happy

Thanking Mick, he went on his way

For now, he had a beautiful voice

For him to sing on Saint Patrick’s Day

LET YOUR POEM MINGLE WITH OTHERS

LET YOUR POEM:

DANCE ON OUR STAGE

ANY LENGTH, ANY SUBJECT, ANY TIME

SEND YOUR WRITTEN WORK TO:[email protected]

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My Two Mothers
A Burmese beauty
A northern rock
A life of travel
A life of the street

A sensitive mind
A bevy of friends
A love of nature
A love of food

A wartime refugee
A staircase to protect
A love of classics
A love of bingo

One loved her daughters
One loved her sons
Such different women
Such cherished mothers

Chalk and cheese
My mother
My mother in law
Always remembered

Eve Thomson

A sweet enchanting smile

Warm and tender charms

The things I remember

While safe in mother’s arms

Protected from all troubles

Comforted when in pain

Kissed gently on the cheek

To make all better again

Guided through my infant life

Of things I should not do

Taught me right from wrong

And shown things old and new

I want to thank you mother

I cherished all the years

Even when I was punished

And cried so many tears

And now that I am older

My love for you is strong

Although you are no longer with me

To the Spirit world you have gone

I know you will always be near me

For your love will never die

At times when I need you

I will always feel you nigh

I should like to say thank you

For all that you have done

For I will always cherish you

SEND YOUR POEMS TO:[email protected]

The Transfiguration

1After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. 2There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light.3Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus.

4Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.”

5While he was still speaking, a bright cloud covered them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

6When the disciples heard this, they fell facedown to the ground, terrified. 7But Jesus came and touched them. “Get up,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.” 8When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus.

9As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus instructed them, “Don’t tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

10The disciples asked him, “Why then do the teachers of the law say that Elijah must come first?”

11Jesus replied, “To be sure, Elijah comes and will restore all things. 12But I tell you, Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him everything they wished. In the same way the Son of Man is going to suffer at their hands.”13Then the disciples understood that he was talking to them about John the Baptist.

anthony gomez <[email protected]>

Shall I will I ever have a chance to be freed
That’s, only when my wings I need to spread

You put me one day in a cage
Can’t you see me today that I age?
Can’t you see me that I am weeping?
Can’t you see me that I am bleeding?

That day going my way straight to my fate
That I used to be free before t’was too late
Then I was nattering in my joy and glee
With No motive for my killing spree
Spending my joy from tree to tree
Having no foe, nor a prey I was to be
Safe that my carol of joy betrayed me
I was caught In a dream-catcher net
It was a gloomy day, that’s Ô! My fate
Mother Nature comes to me, ready set to rejoice
Full of fun, laughing of plenty to hear my voice
For, You don’t know why I sing, ah! me
It was the first day of Spring, for me
It’s only now but a prayer, from the bottom of my heart I sing
but a plea wish you hear me, that upward to Heaven I fling
That one day  you may let me free, before it was too late
It’s only Poetry, a lady  she knows before me, that said:

_Kalimelo

I know why The Caged Birds sing, ah me,
when his wing is bruised and his bosom sore
when he hit the bars, and would be free;
it is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his hearth’s deep core,
but a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings
I know why the caged bird sings_Maya Angelou

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Know_Why_the_Caged_Bird_Sings

A Green Martian came to Nottingham

To made his mark upon the land,

He landed in the castle court-yard

And was surrounded by Robins merry band,

They were all dressed in green

That made the Martian scream,

They laughed and pointed at the Martian

But the Martian said I come in peace,

So please take me to your leader

Then Robin came from around the corner

With tankard in his hand,

Robin told the Martian

I’ve just come from the Trip To Jerusalem,

You must have come to join my merry band

Which the Martian did not really understand.

By Thomas Sims

I’m surviving the trials
of everyday living.

Oh why can you not be more
forgiving?

Your careless hard words, if only you knew,

how
they cut me through and through;

even though I make no judgement on
you.

I wonder if you realise,

just how much you
offend,

with your cruel words; that you sometimes send.

I would
just love to be well, like you my friend;

I really hope that I’m on the
mend.

And that my painful journey is near its end.

Love is like fairies

It is magical

Soft and angelic

Like sweeping snow,

I questioned myself  how do I know?

Then one day I discovered

True love it was like no other

Feeling ever, truly magical

Like a fairy waving a wand

Amongst the snowdrops,

With the birds singing a song

Through the woods

I followed them,

This is where I belonged

With my heart full of love

Singing in the soft breeze,

Watching the fairies dance between the trees

They would put a spell on me,

If true love feels like this

Then this is where I want to be

In a land that is magical to me

By Gillian Sims