Owl in the Night

Owl in Flight

For years now I haven’t done sketches, convinced that I could not draw sufficiently well I stuck to only drawing what I knew. Houses were the thing which came more easily to me, but recently along with stepping outside my comfort zone I felt compelled to draw an owl just after I wrote this poem. 

The owl flew past in full stealth mode,
As we walked along the road.
And just as I had time to say,
He’d landed there and spied his prey.
His wingspan wide, his body white,
He glided off into the night,
And once again since it was dark,
Upon the woods, he made his mark.
Touched by his magic then he was gone,
He never stays around too long.
A reminder that the woods are not mine,
Whilst sharing with me a moment in time,
I looked there again but he’d flown away,
Wishing that for longer he’d stay.
Oh beautiful owl with feathers so white,
No need to worry and take flight.
Perhaps returning to the farm.
Where you’re again safe from harm.
I’m glad that you felt safe to just be,
While he was walking along with me.
I hope that you found a plentiful store,
And we will see you again once more.
Followed your flight across the ridge,
Across the fields towards the bridge.

 

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Advice to the Free Spirit.

I wrote this poem in August but published in September on my other blog it is another that I recently read out at a Poetry Night which is a monthly event in my hometown. I was conscious when travelling out to deal with my Brother’s passing that so many of his colleagues may, like him not have even thought about such things and it is written for them. I had originally intended to print it and leave it somewhere for them to read.

Advice to the Free Spirit.

While you are being a free spirit,

Take a moment to think of the ones that are left behind.

The ones who will take care of things in an emergency,

The ones who will bring you home if it ends suddenly.

Make some arrangements so that they know

What you would have wanted,

If they are doing the right thing,

Or where to find the important things.

Save a little to provide some security,

To cover the cost of a bad decision, or an accident.

Share with them more than just your fun,

Let them know when you are fulfilling your dreams,

Or chasing new ones.

For it will help them in their grief

To know that you were happy,

Loved and cared for,

Had friends in your heart and at your side,

Who will share your last moments.

That you did not die sad or lonely.

Whilst you are being a free spirit,

Remember them and tell them they are loved too.

That you aren’t running away,

But that you are just chasing your dreams,

Living the best life that you can.

Adventure Awaits

In Memory of Joseph Lawrence Brown 14-02-70 to 03-08-18

Welcomed for Christmas – A Poem by Esther Brown

“Merry Christmas!”

I know that now Christmas is technically over, but it is the Holiday Season still. I wanted to share with you this poem which I wrote a couple of years ago.  It is one which I chose to read at a local spoken word poetry night recently and was also read out by Santa Claus at a local children’s hospice and was also well received. I was reminiscing about the preparations in our house, both growing up and since then for Christmas. I thought that I would also include this recent sketch I’ve done, which may turn into Christmas cards at a later date. In the meantime, I wish for you all a Happy New Year for 2019.

Welcomed for Christmas a Poem by Esther Brown…

Excitement abounds it’s Christmas Night,

As you imagine their delight,

Presents and gifts piled on the floor

As you stumble through the door,

Cinnamon and spice waft round the house,

Peace and quiet as a mouse.

They hope you found the largest tree,

So all around your friends will see

Trim the tree and decorate

All done by midnight, don’t be late!

So many baubles shiny and bright,

Don’t forget the twinkling light,

Topped with an Angel or even a star,

Shining its welcome from afar.

Around and about the swathes and swags

You are surrounded by paper and tags

There’s decorations all over the hall,

As you feel you’ve done it all.

Go to rest your weary head,

As you clamber up to bed.

Mince pie and carrot placed at the ready,

For Santa’s arrival, keep watching Teddy!

If you wake you might see him eat,

I wonder if he’ll wipe his feet.

Or if there’ll be soot all over the floor,

Where he tumbled down the chimney once more.

Will there be something for you to enjoy?

When the last child opens their toy.

More roast potatoes if you are able,

Unable to move from this table.

Roast with everyone’s favourite trimming,

There’s no chance here for Christmas slimming.

Time to enjoy a moment or treat,

As you rest those tired, sore feet.

Some wonderful smelly for the bath,

A comment or joke to make you laugh.

Time with the family here at last,

Such preparation and yet, over so fast.

It’s Christmas time, be of good cheer,

As you look to welcome another year.

Politics – A Poem

It’s hard to believe that I wrote this poem back in January 2017.  It is not my usual style of poetry at all as I tend to normally steer clear of politics in my writing. However, in the current political climate, it still seems to resonate with me so I wanted to share it.

Politics 161017

Out there dressed in twin set and pearls.

Shaking hands as the country unfurls.

So much hatred we’ve gone to war,

Who knows what horrors there are in store.

Down the line what we will find.

Now that democracy changed our mind.

 

Off on junkets they will often race,

Attempts at how to just save face.

We married at leisure now repent in haste,

Try as they can to trim the waste.

Skirting the issue, they start to hedge,

On the precipice out on a ledge.

 

Will others decide to sever all ties,

Or see the truth behind the lies.

So busy whilst they cover their tracks.

They fail to reach, such an anticlimax.

They thought that they were such cutting edge,

But the base of the barrel they will dredge.

We worry about it and rue the day,

That our parliament voted Theresa May.

Becoming Butterflies

This is a poem I’ve written for my sister and I. A reminder of all that we are and yet to become.