Reflections of a Sussex Girl in the Peak District.
A few Christmases ago I posted a poem on my blog that I had written for Arlo, my first grandchild. He loved the poem, and the book I made him that Christmas has been kept safely in his Christmas book bag and brought out each year. At the beginning of 2022 I decided to look…
A flame burns bright...
He's growing tired, and soon 'Old man Winter" will hang up his cap....
Can you hear what I hear? or see what I see? The sounds of a season changing the sights of spring emerging. A rustling deep within the earth as new growth gently begins to form, and dormant life begins to stir. A stretch, a yawn, a sleepy head shaken, a bud, a shoot a flower…
The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry’s cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I’ll put a trinket on. Poem by - Emily Dickinson Photo by -…
While looking through my book of Emily Dickinson's poetry, I came across her poem entitled 'The Robin'. I have so been enjoying the robins outside my window this year, as they have been growing and changing. I was sure that she wouldn't mind me adding a few of my photos as I share Emily's poem…
A short while ago I posted a blog with the title Hope. It included a poem by Emily Dickinson and I mentioned that I would love a book of her poems. It was my birthday shortly after and I couldn't have been more thrilled than when I opened a present from my daughter and there it…
Its time to don the wellies.
Brave and determined we hold on to what is safe, to that which is familiar.
Their beauty shone with the rising sun.
Through rose tinted glasses. 