I’ve been feeling a little frazzled today; working, preparing for house guests who arrive tomorrow and getting ready to go on a tai chi workshop next Wednesday in the US. All good things, just they have given me a rather long to-do list!
So, I spent some time reading old blog posts instead, turning to some relaxing poems to calm me down.
And then I decided to quickly turn them into a little ebook, for you to download.
Poems to bring a little calm and relaxation to your day.
And now I’m off to do some tai chi in the garden.
a pile of petals.
I love these pink rock rose flowers. In the morning they are closed and covered in dewdrops. As the day warms up they open and face the sun. By evening the petals are starting to fall and by the following morning petals lie like crumpled pink tissue paper on the soil. Luckily there are plenty more flowers waiting to open.
I plant seeds and tidy the greenhouse
as three slow worms bask peacefully
in the sun.
I love slow worms, and it makes me so happy to know that I share my garden with them. They look like little copper coloured snakes, but are actually legless lizards. One lives in the raspberry bed, one in a hole in the patio and one in the wall near the woodshed. There are probably more, I just haven’t spotted them yet.
like much of my life,
a little scruffy,
a little rough around the edges,
beautiful to my eyes
but perhaps not everyone’s
cup of tea.
Today I watched
a queen red-tailed bumblebee
dusted in golden pollen
feasting on a dandelion,
mother of next summer’s bees
sustained by my laziness,
my dislike of weeding.
Perfection may ensnare us
but it is a sterile thing,
there is treasure
to be found
in the wild,
in the untamed,
at the rough edges of life.
The sun streams onto my desk
distracting me with an open invitation.
I wander outside into the crisp
freshness of September
(I really should be working)
air cool, sun warm,
what a delicious combination.
I stroll, and admire the flowers.
This year’s robins practice their trills
and chase each other around the garden
(I should be working, really)
Dewy cobwebs sparkle.
The Chinese lanterns glow
like orange setting suns.
(Should I really be working?)
I have all the time in the world
long years of it left,
but this one moment of early autumn,
this particular combination of weather
and flowers and birdsong
will never happen again in
exactly the same way.
So I savour it.