Expressions

Walking in nature with my dog Jet, a beautiful black Labrador Retriever has a calming effect on both my mind and body.  If I am feeling stressed and disconnected, I allow us both the time to blend with our local surroundings.  We often visit  Grandfather Tree  who sits majestically in a quiet piece of the saved Australian bush at the bottom of my road. One particular day I found myself well out of sorts trying to process grief that often engulfs me, even still.  Grabbing the lead and nursing my heavy heart found myself under the arms of Grandfather tree. Sacred Place My dog is softly panting, his ears are pricked, alert Beneath the tall strong guardian, myself, I sit inert Together we watch the ants, as they soldier to and  fro Along the broken branches, that seem to be their home The birds are circling close now, they are coming in to land Upon more broken branches that fell to join the land  This space is very calming, no resi...

Although they were written three months apart this particular poem compliments  Chilling  in that once again nature is the subject.  I always seem to find  peace and comfort amongst the energy of Mother Earth. A Soul’s Salve The gravel crunches noisily, beneath my feet so  bold Along the winding path, through ancient trees of  old   Light glints through the leaves, hanging a canopy  overhead And veering from the pathway, chose another route  instead   Snapping of the twigs, scatter the creatures, large and  small From impending doom that threatens, from each, of my foot  falls ” I didn’t mean to startle, that truly, was not my  aim or  cause you any suffering, on you, I make no  claim”   “I only wish to join you, in the, peace and  solitude w hilst  meandering, amongst you, and to feel, my heart  renewed” ”I promise to be quiet, to give, and not to take t his...

For me there is nothing quite like nature to give me a lift and a recharge, especially when I lose focus or am feeling directionless. I wrote this poem one Sunday morning in Baldivis, Western Australia whilst sitting in my friend’s beautiful garden.  I could feel a calming gentleness in the air as I sat to appreciate the morning sunlight and enjoyed watching my friend as she engaged with her garden. Chilling I see the water glistening, as it sets upon the leaves And feel the gentle movement, as the wind blows through the trees The dappled shadows settle to, protect the delicate flowers Standing tall, the pastel blooms resemble leaning towers. A curious insect comes to check, if I am friend or foe As the sun surrounds my body and my skin begins to glow I love to sit with nature on these mild and sunny days Reminding me to take the time to soak up all the rays © Cheryl Mary Coleman, 2017 – Expression #172 18.10.17 – cherylmarycoleman.com If you...

Sky Cries The sky cries gentle drops of  rain That form spattering patterns upon the  ground Rivulets of water running here and  there Freely flowing to who knows  where A solitary bird up in a  tree Sings songs of gratitude to the  sky Mother Earth in all her  glory Receives these blessings to continue her  story © Cheryl Mary Coleman, 2016  –  Expression #6 31.8.16 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 look forward to connecting with you, thank you. COPYRIGHT © Cheryl Mary Coleman 2016-2018,    4theloveofrhyme.blog.spot.com. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided ...

In recent years our seasons here in Western Australia seem to have become more extreme.   It has not gone unnoticed for the likes of an immigrant from England who grew up with inclement and temperamental weather patterns that the winters are colder and wetter than ever before.  And the dry heat that we so enjoyed during our summer months have gradually become hot and steamy, and not in a nice way. It is becoming a concern not only for myself but many of the native Australian people who also recognise something is just not right! Nature’s Cycles ​ Raindrops gather, to pitter  patter As whirling winds, the plants do  batter The cooling cleansing drops of  rain Are falling from the sky  again No summer here seems, is our  plight As torrential storms, blow out  sunlight As clouds clear, and I sit and  listen The halting raindrops on the plants now  glisten Nature’s cycles are sorely  changing From peopl...

Grandfather Tree Visual Poetry This poem is about an Australian eucalyptus gum tree that I call Grandfather Tree.  I live but a stones throw away and am greeted each morning by the sun rising through the limbs of this great tree as it peeps over our garden wall. This magnificent old tree (which must be at least 200 years of age) is all that is left in our immediate area of the Gnangara Forest.   This is being slowly cleared and decimated to allow for homes like ours, which is extremely sad.  The tree is now a focal point of the local park surrounded by a small area of natural bush,  where families gather to play and walk their dogs. Whilst walking my black Labrador Jet, around the park he darted off into the bush, and so following him under the canopy of the trees arrived at the huge base of Grandfather Tree.  I decided to sit and glancing up the enormous trunk started taking a series of photos.  The longer I stayed the more I was ...

I remember from my childhood in the county of Oxfordshire in England, witnessing beautiful owls who lived nearby in the local woodlands.  Stories told at school would talk of how the owl was a wise being, a master of the woods and keeper of knowledge.   But as with all life however beautiful, there is always the darker side to consider and respect.  For now that I am older I am under no illusion that they are stealthy hunters who strive to survive. Owl Intention A family of voles scurry, beneath gnarled, and twisted roots. Whilst overhead a wizened owl knows, now’s, not the time to hoot. With swift and deadly precision, he swoops upon his prey. As one small vole is taken, one less, goes home today. With outstretched talons poised, to deliver to his nest, As nature’s cruel intention, becomes food stuff for the rest. © Cheryl Mary Coleman,  2018  –  Expression #192 20.4.18 If you like this poem please feel free to ...