Expressions

On the evening of 7th October 2016 as I was sat in the garden, thinking of my husband I was distracted when I  heard our gate, click.  This became the trigger that set in motion my emotions and thoughts of our marriage.  This poem is dedicated to my wonderful husband Roland Alan Coleman and the years we have shared together to date. The Quickening The click of the gate alerts me you’re  home   Your travels of late from where you did roam.  Thoughts of our love begin to  soar   A leap of my heart, as you walk through the door.  Your eyes reignite the passion once  felt   My heart now feeling, as if it could melt.  The quickening of love embodied as  one   Returns me to you in a moment, undone.  © Cheryl Mary Coleman, 2016  –  Expression #49  7.10.16  If you like this poem please feel free to share, as it may just be what someone needs to brighten their day. If you feel so inclined to leave a comment or feedback, know this I will be extremely grateful, and

I have always had the perspective of viewing life with a  ‘glass half full’  perspective.  I try to retain a sense of positivity in all situations however challenging. But sometimes, just sometimes, I slip and then that veil dissolves and I see the world so differently. Very recently as I lent an ear to a dear friend who was needing to share life from her perspective, (which sadly was from a place of sorrow)  I couldn’t help but identify with things that came up.  This poem highlights my thoughts and feelings that rose as a result of our shared conversations. Yearning I’m feeling so unsettled, my head is in a whirl My heart feels old and tired, I cannot find it’s pearl The body aches from shaking, as the Earth erupts again I do not wish to be here, for my life is such a strain The light within my eyes, is tainted by the horrors  Of man’s attempts to covert, whilst inflicting pain and terrors I cannot find the answer, and it’s driving me insane Of how we’re mea

This poem was written at a time when my strength and faith were needed the most.  My family and I were waiting for news of my son, Matthew, who at that time was missing. As my mind was screaming, my heart was hoping. Strong Like a mountain standing  strong   Love and faith can do no  wrong   What once was, now is  gone   As life begins, a different  song   Stripping bare, to see what’s  there   The naked truth behind the  glare   Revealing what is in us  all   A need to rise and then to  fall   In the stillness from the  sounds   A peace untold is what is  found   Where strings on hearts become  unbound   And love forever, does  surround   © Cheryl Mary Coleman, 2016  –  Expression #72   20.12.16 –  cherylmarycoleman.com If you like this poem please feel free to share, as it may just be what someone needs to brighten their day. If you feel so inclined to leave a comment or feedback, know this I will be extremely grateful, and look forward to conn

I am fortunate enough to live in Perth where we have over 80 kms of glorious sandy beaches and a further 10,000 kms around the coastline of Western Australia. I love to see the patterns that the waves can make upon the sand.  However I have always felt there is something mystical about footprints and so writing to express this came easy one day in November of 2017. Footprints in the Sand Leave your footprints in the sand From life’s long journey on this land The depth of passions, you have felt Are born from experience, you are dealt Love and joy, and, faith and hope Shield you from, that slippery slope But when at times, if you might trip Do not despair, it’s just a blip For cycles like waves, do come and go Your footsteps will meld, with life’s rich flow Whilst taking a breath, you stop to stare Then glance behind, to see what is there They’ve already left, claimed by soft lapping waves Recorded with time, as are notes from a clave © Cheryl Mary

Growing older is a fact of life, for those of us who are fortunate enough to experience later years.  I remember hearing many moons ago  ‘that youth is wasted on the young’   and although I see where some may think that to be true, I recognise that my life is just like a book. So far it has had many chapters, filled with all of the emotional ingredients, with plots that thicken and those that fizzle to nothing.  Mysteries that have been explored with villainous characters and loves that have curled my toes.  Experiences that have caused my growth whether I thought I needed them or not.  But my own unique story is just that – my story. When I find myself reflecting backwards as a means of checking in to my past chapters, for what I’ve learned and, for what I am grateful for I also like to look forward and dream of what may yet be. This poem speaks of those thoughts and those moments. Ascend As youth and beauty begin to fade I contemplate, life in the shade  As Autumn is

I very rarely watch the news, as it is never seems to contain anything good.  As I passed through the lounge one evening to chat to my husband something caught my eye that made me sit and listen, and guess what, what I was witnessing was not good! Feeling very saddened after watching the news report I promptly went outside to sit in my favourite place for creative writing and wrote ‘Human Race.’ Human Race Most are very lucky, to have homes that keep them safe And use of modern  gadgets, some can even fly to space  Stores filled to the brim, that would feed a growing army And roads jam packed with cars, which is nothing less than barmy  All is in excess, compared to those, who came before us  Our daily news is blazoned, by who makes, the biggest fuss Strutting like a peacock, boasting all about ones riches  When still the needy starve and sleep, curled up, in dank dark ditches  Nothing really changes, no matter what the century  Many spend their lives, held w

On the evening of 25th April 2017, I was sitting outside on the patio when my solitude was suddenly interrupted by my neighbours dog who started barking. Very soon, another joined in, then another, quickly followed by my own furry hounds. Their chorus was rather deafening.  However a question sparked a stirring in my mind and the following poem came to be.  Not only that the experience became the focus for one of my short stories, introducing a couple of new characters, all because of the cacophony that the neighbourhood dogs created. Dog’s Love Best In the distance a dog barks proud Igniting a chorus from others, all around  A canine story, perhaps is being told Telling tales of the mighty, the brave and the bold  Whatever they are sharing, in the language of the bark  I’m certain what is called for, is a moment to take heart  Their capacity to love, from which they never tire Waiting patiently for us, to return beside the fire  Man’s best friend it’s said, of