Monday, 23 December 2013
Sacrifice
He loves me, he loves me not
a tear begins to form
He loves me, he loves me not
a seed of fear is born
He loves me, he loves me not
my heart will not settle
He loves me, he loves me not!
I crush the fragile petal.
What if he never loves me?
My brokenness won't mend
I pick another daisy
and start the count again.
He loves me. He loves me!
Joy becomes a sigh
For just a tiny spark of hope
a flower had to die.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
Saturday, 21 December 2013
Summer rains
Bless-ed rain falls
on this sun baked earth,
soaks
the pores of my skin,
seeks
the desert places of my soul,
fills
the well-spring of my heart,
quenches
my desperate thirst.
Droplet upon droplet
form wild rivulets
down my dusty cheeks
cleansing
the detritus of yesteryears.
I hold my arms aloft,
press my face
against God's chest
And smile through His tears.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
on this sun baked earth,
soaks
the pores of my skin,
seeks
the desert places of my soul,
fills
the well-spring of my heart,
quenches
my desperate thirst.
Droplet upon droplet
form wild rivulets
down my dusty cheeks
cleansing
the detritus of yesteryears.
I hold my arms aloft,
press my face
against God's chest
And smile through His tears.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
Wednesday, 11 December 2013
Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge, by Mandy Edwards .... is now in PRINT.
Visit facebook.com/MysteryatDeadMansRidge for more information and let me know if you would like to purchase a copy. You won't regret it! It is gorgeous. 138 pages, 5 full colour illustrations, a coloured map, and a black and white sketch for each chapter. Come and see what farmlife is like in Otago, New Zealand ... and help two young cousins solve the mystery ... at Dead Man's Ridge.
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
Panic in the supermarket
tendrils of fear
unfurl around me
amongst the shelves
crackers play dice
with my heart
crackers play dice
with my heart
there's too little air
in the Spanish Olives
unarmed
in the Spanish Olives
unarmed
a purple aubergine
mocks me - "mala insana"
what madness is this?
mocks me - "mala insana"
what madness is this?
my soul bared
there is nowhere to hide
there is nowhere to hide
layer upon layer of skin
unpeeled
stinging insidious tears
unpeeled
stinging insidious tears
pretzels hold out their arms
like children in prayer
I stare at my upturned palms
stained by the vine
stained by the vine
and can't remember
why I am here.
why I am here.
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
Thursday, 28 November 2013
A Poem a Day ...
Just a little poem I wrote to remind myself how important it is to write everyday ... even the simplest of words can create a little magic.
A poem a day
shakes the cobwebs away
For dust cannot settle
if your mind's in fine fettle.
So hum a few words
as you put on the kettle
sprinkle magic into the fray.
If your head's in a muddle
go jump in a puddle
let the child in you out to play.
Soon you will find
that your words start to shine
And a poem is writ for the day!
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
A poem a day
shakes the cobwebs away
For dust cannot settle
if your mind's in fine fettle.
So hum a few words
as you put on the kettle
sprinkle magic into the fray.
If your head's in a muddle
go jump in a puddle
let the child in you out to play.
Soon you will find
that your words start to shine
And a poem is writ for the day!
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
Saturday, 23 November 2013
I see you, Zacchaeus
I see you,
Zacchaeus
up high in the sycamore tree
Shall I join you?
We could dream of days gone by
when smallness was a simple joy
the seed of greatness
tucked inside your heart
waiting for a ray of light.
what happened?
to that young, shy boy
who used to climb trees
hide from the world and dream
Come down from there a while
– take my hand
Let’s talk a little, share some food
refresh our souls
to face another day.
I have always known
what’s in your heart
knew that one day,
You would come to me.
trying to fill that vast vault inside
with worldly treasures …
Happy to believe.
Amanda Edwards © 2013
up high in the sycamore tree
Shall I join you?
We could dream of days gone by
when smallness was a simple joy
the seed of greatness
tucked inside your heart
waiting for a ray of light.
It’s hard isn’t it, Zacchaeus?
when desperate eyes
accuse you, detest you
hate you for being who you are
and who you are not
when desperate eyes
accuse you, detest you
hate you for being who you are
and who you are not
Yes, I see you, Zacchaeus
There presides the king of tax collectors
A cut above the others , you think
yet so despised
In your heart you wonderThere presides the king of tax collectors
A cut above the others , you think
yet so despised
what happened?
to that young, shy boy
who used to climb trees
hide from the world and dream
A child
stretching his imagination, up, up, up
well beyond
his small, imprisoned self …
watching, waiting ... for me.
Here I am at last, Zacchaeus stretching his imagination, up, up, up
well beyond
his small, imprisoned self …
watching, waiting ... for me.
Come down from there a while
– take my hand
Let’s talk a little, share some food
refresh our souls
to face another day.
I have always known
what’s in your heart
knew that one day,
You would come to me.
Today is a new beginning
to get to know each other better
Soon you will see your true self.
Not the little self, accumulating richesto get to know each other better
Soon you will see your true self.
trying to fill that vast vault inside
with worldly treasures …
But you … the you I made you to be
a small boy dreaming big
content to swing his legs up in the trees
and feel the sap quickening in his veins
Longing for love; longing to truly livea small boy dreaming big
content to swing his legs up in the trees
and feel the sap quickening in his veins
Happy to believe.
Amanda Edwards © 2013
Thursday, 21 November 2013
Love Songs
Song of Songs
Love flashes like fire
the brightest kind of flame
Hearts melt to molten gold
transforming, reshaping
re-gilding the world.
Nature takes on its brightest hue
the song of songs plays just for you
Love is as strong as death
cannot be quenched
or drowned
by mighty rivers
A gift divine
for mutual pleasure
all fear dissolved
a glimpse
of heaven's treasure.
"O promise me not to awaken love
... before the time is right"
Lest my love, doth flee into the night!
Love Song
As you play
upon my heartstrings
my soul aches for thee
You close your eyes
and gently strum
while I sing the harmony.
Every time you take a breath
I take a breath with thee
My heart swells with the music
And it sets my spirit free.
Together we compose our song
A bright new symphony
until it reaches a crescendo
and then - you part from me.
Each heart beat pulses sadness
I feel, oh, so bereft!
As I strain to hear the echo
of the music that you left.
You are the creator
And I - an instrument for thee
Please pick me up, hold me close
And pluck me tenderly.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
O speckled thrush!
O speckled thrush
so cold, so stiff, so dead!
so cold, so stiff, so dead!
Your flame extinguished
a faded silhouette
a fly-blown curiosity
a faded silhouette
a fly-blown curiosity
No glimmer of light
from your half- moon eye.
from your half- moon eye.
to that sparkling beaded lace
an ethereal throw
on nature’s bed
A sticky, intricate snare
where Death awaits
upon his secret tight rope
where Death awaits
upon his secret tight rope
Wraps his victims tenderly in silk
then sucks out all life
leaves just an empty husk.
then sucks out all life
leaves just an empty husk.
Is this your fate
O, speckled thrush
as you “push up the daisies?”
Heavens no!
O, speckled thrush
as you “push up the daisies?”
Heavens no!
You are surrounded by
innocent ‘Christ-children’ *
damp with early morning tears
mourning your death
yet rejoicing in the dawning
of a new day …
A tulip cup
ablaze with glory
ablaze with glory
Herald of spring and all
dappled, variegated things
toasts the heavens
feasts upon the rising sun
shouts out its certainty -
dappled, variegated things
toasts the heavens
feasts upon the rising sun
shouts out its certainty -
Your death, speckled thrush
Is Nature’s celebration
A new beginning ….
You have fulfilled your role
your purpose on earth
Is Nature’s celebration
A new beginning ….
You have fulfilled your role
your purpose on earth
In God’s eternal, circle of life.
Mandy Edwards © 2013
is Old English for “day’s eye” – referring to the beginning of each day, illustrated by the daisy closing its petals in the evening, and the first to open at dawn to greet the day. It also has its debut in the spring.
Many thanks to my dear friend, Niki Palmer, who produced the gorgeous photos for this poem ... :)
Thursday, 24 October 2013
Do you believe in faeries?
It begins with faeries.
I watch you shut your book
with a satisfying thud
and shout:
"I believe in faeries"
And I see God's smile
shimmer through the stardust
As the morning stars
sing together
and all the angels shout
for joy
You hug to yourself
a child-like certainty
that now, this very minute
another faery has been saved
Never lose
that sense of wonder
For you
everything is a miracle
there is nothing seen
or unseen
that you cannot believe
Faeries are like angels
invisible friends who
sparkle in the sunlight
dance and twirl like leaves
Little puffs of wind
playing in your hair
whispering
"Here I am, isn't life grand?"
They watch you play hopscotch
on the pavement
soothe ointment on your knees
Slowly release their breath
when you climb the tallest trees
nestle there
reach out to the clouds
And dream ...
A host of feathered angels
trill their secret messages
hop from branch to branch
watch over you
as you place one foot
carefully after another
and descend
Some angels
pile up freshly made scones
smothered in jam and cream
on your favourite plate
and watch you eat
so much in love with you
They read you endless stories
over and over
for they know you love to
feed your imagination
and can never get enough
Sometimes
when you least expect it
a furry angel jumps on to your lap
kneads you up and down
dribbles and purrs!
And did you know ...
A guardian angel
listens to your prayers at night
sends them heavenward
with a sprinkling of faery dust
Where God catches them
and smiles
While His angels shout for joy
and the night sky, shivers with delight.
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
I watch you shut your book
with a satisfying thud
and shout:
"I believe in faeries"
And I see God's smile
shimmer through the stardust
As the morning stars
sing together
and all the angels shout
for joy
You hug to yourself
a child-like certainty
that now, this very minute
another faery has been saved
Never lose
that sense of wonder
For you
everything is a miracle
there is nothing seen
or unseen
that you cannot believe
Faeries are like angels
invisible friends who
sparkle in the sunlight
dance and twirl like leaves
Little puffs of wind
playing in your hair
whispering
"Here I am, isn't life grand?"
They watch you play hopscotch
on the pavement
soothe ointment on your knees
Slowly release their breath
when you climb the tallest trees
nestle there
reach out to the clouds
And dream ...
A host of feathered angels
trill their secret messages
hop from branch to branch
watch over you
as you place one foot
carefully after another
and descend
Some angels
pile up freshly made scones
smothered in jam and cream
on your favourite plate
and watch you eat
so much in love with you
They read you endless stories
over and over
for they know you love to
feed your imagination
and can never get enough
Sometimes
when you least expect it
a furry angel jumps on to your lap
kneads you up and down
dribbles and purrs!
And did you know ...
A guardian angel
listens to your prayers at night
sends them heavenward
with a sprinkling of faery dust
Where God catches them
and smiles
While His angels shout for joy
and the night sky, shivers with delight.
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
Sunday, 6 October 2013
Search-light to my Soul
My words are a search-light
to my Soul
speaking my truth.
Sometimes they glow and shine
shaped by thoughts from others
long ago
yet deeply mine.
Some days my words glisten softly
like pale moonlight or distant stars
A silvery fish, darting out of shadows
dapples of half-light, reflecting
off its scales
flashes of truth from memory's past.
Some days my words burn bright
I cover my eyes in pain;
there is nowhere to hide.
I take another peek - aha!
Nothing to fear
Just light.
Some days the words won't come.
I shake my torch, bang it on the ground
So frustrated,
so disappointed.
Useless, empty thoughts
expose old wounds
that I'm not good enough
A lonely void haunts me
deep within
So then I seek Your Word
Your truth, your wisdom.
Love fills my heart
Rekindles that radiant spark
that threatens to glow cold.
And then I remember.
You have given me all I need
Gifted me
my salvation
All I must do, is believe.
"Faith need be only the size
of a mustard seed."
For you Father, are always here
holding my trembling hand.
As we switch on the light together
And reveal such beauty there.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
Monday, 23 September 2013
Forever Together
If we were together
could I lay my head upon your chest
and listen to your heart beat
Forever?
Would you brush away my tears
piece together
the fragments of my dreams
and chase away my fears?
If we were together
forever
would you keep me filled
to overflowing with your love
so my life was never wasted on despair?
If we cannot be together
ever
on this earth of ours
could you teach me
how to keep you in my heart
so I can feel you there
Forever?
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
could I lay my head upon your chest
and listen to your heart beat
Forever?
Would you brush away my tears
piece together
the fragments of my dreams
and chase away my fears?
If we were together
forever
would you keep me filled
to overflowing with your love
so my life was never wasted on despair?
If we cannot be together
ever
on this earth of ours
could you teach me
how to keep you in my heart
so I can feel you there
Forever?
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
Friday, 13 September 2013
Let's magic the pain away
A wild eyed pony snuffles at the fence;
seks the half bitten carrot, held out
on a brave yet hesitant palm,
fingers curled around the offering....
A thud, a squeal of pain.
The child has fallen,
picks himself up with all the courage
of a little warrior,
huge accusing eyes examine the spot.
Tears glint on sunlit cheeks,
droplets of blood ooze from a graze
that reddens upon a once perfect canvas.
He holds up his arm for his mother to see.
She kisses the top of his curly head,
breathes her love into the soft peach of his skin,
‘tut tuts’ her sorrow, makes a great show
of examining the wound, declares her verdict.
"It needs a little magic,
shall we kiss the pain away?"
A little nod, a half smile.
She wipes away his tears with gentle fingers,
bends over the wound, kisses it tenderly,
one last embrace.
The sparkle returns to his dancing eyes;
all pain forgotten.
He picks up a stick, bashes it gleefully
upon the fence.
The pony throws up his head,
snorts in fear,
skitters to the end of the paddock.
The boy is cautioned
and a fleeting cloud threatens the sunshine
of his face.
A moment's indignant thought.
He places the stick beneath his gumboot;
stomps it into smaller and smaller pieces,
then smiles with joyous satisfaction.
Amanda Edwards © 2013
on a brave yet hesitant palm,
fingers curled around the offering....
A thud, a squeal of pain.
The child has fallen,
picks himself up with all the courage
of a little warrior,
huge accusing eyes examine the spot.
Tears glint on sunlit cheeks,
droplets of blood ooze from a graze
that reddens upon a once perfect canvas.
He holds up his arm for his mother to see.
She kisses the top of his curly head,
breathes her love into the soft peach of his skin,
‘tut tuts’ her sorrow, makes a great show
of examining the wound, declares her verdict.
"It needs a little magic,
shall we kiss the pain away?"
A little nod, a half smile.
She wipes away his tears with gentle fingers,
bends over the wound, kisses it tenderly,
one last embrace.
The sparkle returns to his dancing eyes;
all pain forgotten.
He picks up a stick, bashes it gleefully
upon the fence.
The pony throws up his head,
snorts in fear,
skitters to the end of the paddock.
The boy is cautioned
and a fleeting cloud threatens the sunshine
of his face.
A moment's indignant thought.
He places the stick beneath his gumboot;
stomps it into smaller and smaller pieces,
then smiles with joyous satisfaction.
Amanda Edwards © 2013
Memoirs of a reluctant shepherdess
“Go Back!”
A sheep sits huddled in a cornerof the paddock as the rain pelts down;
sinks low in the sodden grass
desperate to escape the all-seeing eye
of the working dog.
I yell in vain as Biddy rounds up the flock
turning them round and around,
this way, then that way - no closer to the gate
confused by my conflicting commands:
‘Go back. Go behind, No, No … Back,
Good dog, No, Let it go, Stay, Go round
No! For goodness sake, Go back!’
race like miniature ponies on the track;
but they “must be moved” and my heart
takes on a wild beat
as the sheep whirl faster and faster;
In despair, I scream at Biddy
with all my pent up frustration.
with all my pent up frustration.
You sorry shepherdess you … have you no clue?
Just let me get on with it.
Stop shouting, pointing, cursing, running ….
You are no dog … let me be – I’ll do my job.
shrug in hopeful resignation, decide to trust;
trudge in squelching footsteps through the mud,
to coax the Stubborn One to her feet.
but I discover she is nearly cast,
one leg half gone to sleep.
I roll her over, support her
as she sways from side to side;
relieves herself in one grateful stream
then staggers off towards the flock.
the main mob forgotten, for here is One alone,
An easy prey, a chance to tease and torment,
In fear, I shout, “Leave it, leave it …go back.”
With some reluctance, Biddy returns
her flock now calm
pouring like cumulous clouds,
through the open gate.
I follow slowly
jogging this way and that,
to guide the prodigal one back to the fold;
then pat my collie’s head for a job complete.
her flock now calm
pouring like cumulous clouds,
through the open gate.
I follow slowly
jogging this way and that,
to guide the prodigal one back to the fold;
then pat my collie’s head for a job complete.
Friday, 6 September 2013
the Power of Words
Our words define us
separate or connect us
they can trip us up
or help us flyseparate or connect us
they can trip us up
words can deceive
or make us believe that
anything is possible
or nothing isor make us believe that
anything is possible
they can fill us with love
or empty us
make us laugh or cryor empty us
we can wear our words
with pride
or disappear inside them
the perfect place to hide
who decided words
could never harm us?
I’d rather break my bones
with sticks and stones …
than feel the loneliness
of thoughtless, hurtful words
bones can be healed
but a broken heart
may never be mended
Sunday, 1 September 2013
What do you do ... when you can't find inspiration?
despair
what do you do
when your muse refuses
to cooperate
slinks into a corner and sulks
or sneers at you … “you suck”
hollows out your insides
and leaves you in despair?
what do you do
to escape the loneliness
of an empty page
staring at the same lines
over and over
until they disappear
in a mist of tears?
what do you doto escape the loneliness
of an empty page
staring at the same lines
over and over
until they disappear
in a mist of tears?
when you lose self-belief
think you are not good enough
never were … never will be
and wonder how you ever
dared to dream?
perhaps you take a walk
find a peaceful place
to simply be – and reflect
find a peaceful place
to simply be – and reflect
thank God for creating you
a brush stroke on his canvas
a composition for his song
loving you for being perfect
just the way you are …
yesterday, today and tomorrow.
perhaps then you can smile
through your tears of shame
rekindle the fire in your soul
through your tears of shame
rekindle the fire in your soul
And understand …
your muse never leaves you
He just waits patiently
your muse never leaves you
He just waits patiently
For you to believe in yourself
to Be ... Have ... Do!
to Be ... Have ... Do!
A wonderful review - Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge, by Mandy Edwards
5.0 out of 5 stars: Sheep Rustling, Dags and Burning Grass, September 1 2013
by Mr Richard Lw Bunning (Lausanne, Vaud, Switzerland)
This review is from: Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge (Kindle Edition)
This is a very exciting story that in my non-expert view is suitable for children of eight and upwards.
I'm trying to think back over 40 years to the books I was reading at that age. They were Enid Blyton's Famous Five and later, Anthony Buckeridge's Jennings and Captain W. E. John's Biggles books.
Edwards covers some adult topics in a very young person friendly and modern way; whilst in quality and plot style following very much in the footsteps of the best 1940's and 1960's children's authors.
The scene is set in rural Otago in New Zealand, with a full array of the elements that life there entails.
The landscapes and the farming life of backblock NZ feels very real, and the young townie's introduction to rural life hits the tin roof panel nail right on the head. Edwards brings into this environment many of the issues that face any growing child; shifting relatiionships, adult frailties, substance abuse, abandonment, physical abuse, the nuclear family and the common absence of one, I could go on. Issues are tackled in a realistically matter-of-fact way, through the "eyes" of the young
characters.
I very much enjoyed this, in many ways, "gritty" story, and have confidence that you and yours will as well. This book is also well balanced in terms of gender aspirations, which is something that children's books weren't always in my young days. In other words, Edwards reflects well the expectations of the now in which we live. I have little idea what the young ready today other than about teenage vampires and Hogwarts, but I would be shocked it this book got a less than favourable response from its target age group. I couldn't possible give this book less than five stars.
A review like this helps me remember why I wrote the story in the first place ... to bring the fictional world I was obsessed with as a child, into the world as it is today .... exploring real relationships and realising that there is still much joy to be had, as a child, outdoors ... be it on a farm, or exploring the natural world, gettinng a natural buzz from rearing animals, or hiking in the mountains, or kayaking in a river ... and there is still much joy to be had in reading about realistic children in recognisable environments, where quality time, love and understanding are still the most important gifts we can give each other.
http://amzn.to/149v0A4
by Mr Richard Lw Bunning (Lausanne, Vaud, Switzerland)
This review is from: Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge (Kindle Edition)
This is a very exciting story that in my non-expert view is suitable for children of eight and upwards.
I'm trying to think back over 40 years to the books I was reading at that age. They were Enid Blyton's Famous Five and later, Anthony Buckeridge's Jennings and Captain W. E. John's Biggles books.
Edwards covers some adult topics in a very young person friendly and modern way; whilst in quality and plot style following very much in the footsteps of the best 1940's and 1960's children's authors.
The scene is set in rural Otago in New Zealand, with a full array of the elements that life there entails.
The landscapes and the farming life of backblock NZ feels very real, and the young townie's introduction to rural life hits the tin roof panel nail right on the head. Edwards brings into this environment many of the issues that face any growing child; shifting relatiionships, adult frailties, substance abuse, abandonment, physical abuse, the nuclear family and the common absence of one, I could go on. Issues are tackled in a realistically matter-of-fact way, through the "eyes" of the young
characters.
I very much enjoyed this, in many ways, "gritty" story, and have confidence that you and yours will as well. This book is also well balanced in terms of gender aspirations, which is something that children's books weren't always in my young days. In other words, Edwards reflects well the expectations of the now in which we live. I have little idea what the young ready today other than about teenage vampires and Hogwarts, but I would be shocked it this book got a less than favourable response from its target age group. I couldn't possible give this book less than five stars.
A note from the Author
A review like this helps me remember why I wrote the story in the first place ... to bring the fictional world I was obsessed with as a child, into the world as it is today .... exploring real relationships and realising that there is still much joy to be had, as a child, outdoors ... be it on a farm, or exploring the natural world, gettinng a natural buzz from rearing animals, or hiking in the mountains, or kayaking in a river ... and there is still much joy to be had in reading about realistic children in recognisable environments, where quality time, love and understanding are still the most important gifts we can give each other.
http://amzn.to/149v0A4
Friday, 30 August 2013
the Monarch
You rest upon my hand
a monarch butterfly
gently flexing your wings
such fragile beauty
perfectly designed
You listen, watch, wait
for that precise moment
a gentle zephyr
a sun warmed kiss
a call from the Universe
I scarcely breathe
my eyes fixed upon you
longing to keep you forever
so delicate, so precious
love catches in my throat
but you are not mine
and never were
In this brief time together
we taught each other
love
beauty and truth
now
I must let you go
trust
that one day
you will return
yet while you still remain
the merest touch upon my skin
you have my whole attention
I dare not breathe or blink an eye
lest you disappear
and I realise with great sorrow
that I missed my chance
to say - goodbye.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
a monarch butterfly
gently flexing your wings
such fragile beauty
perfectly designed
You listen, watch, wait
for that precise moment
a gentle zephyr
a sun warmed kiss
a call from the Universe
I scarcely breathe
my eyes fixed upon you
longing to keep you forever
so delicate, so precious
love catches in my throat
but you are not mine
and never were
In this brief time together
we taught each other
love
beauty and truth
now
I must let you go
trust
that one day
you will return
yet while you still remain
the merest touch upon my skin
you have my whole attention
I dare not breathe or blink an eye
lest you disappear
and I realise with great sorrow
that I missed my chance
to say - goodbye.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
A tragic loss
Nature's Fury
A leap of faith
results in tragedy
life cruelly taken
by the mighty Waikato
a river harnessed by man
its latent power unleashed
when the flood gates open
a river harnessed by man
its latent power unleashed
when the flood gates open
nature's fury
undercurrents, whirl pools, a swift
life-giving, life-taking force
the taniwha holds its breath
golden youth
invincible yet so vulnerable
throwing dice
playinng with life
this time he lost
Let your spirit flow free
you are tangata whenua
connected to Papatuanuku
mother earth
her mountains, her lakes, her rivers
in her loving embrace once more
perhaps waiting to be reborn
know that you will
be always remembered
with great love
Aroha nui
God bless.
Amanda Edwards (c) 2013
Sunday, 25 August 2013
God doesn't play dice .... Albert Einstein
and frowned to myself
for they refused to add up
every way I looked
what if they never add up?
you choose the way
the dice will roll?
or toss them aside
say a prayer
and this time, Trust?
Mandy Edwards © 2013
Sunday, 18 August 2013
A lazy afternoon
the sun warms my back
as I sit and drowse a little
composing a poem
a symphony of sound
accompanies my thoughts
the hum of my laptop
tap tap tapping of the keys
the drone of distant aircraft
a purring refrigerator
firewood waits patiently
outside
in the trailer for me
you like your fire don’t you?
well then?
the freezer automatically makes ice
it doesn’t know it is winter
a pumpkin sits moulding away
at the kitchen sink
won’t turn into soup by itself
pity
the bananas blacken, sweeten
nicely maturing for a cake
perhaps tomorrow
today
there’s just enough time
to warm my back
drowse a little and dream.
Amanda Edwards 2012 (c)
Sunday, 11 August 2013
A little church in Tarras, Otago, New Zealand
Tarras Church
I drove to
Church today
and discovered it empty
and discovered it empty
alone on a hill
surrounded by
autumn trees
a few sheep grazing peacefully
a few sheep grazing peacefully
I stood on the
steps
touched the walls of stone
prayed for love and forgiveness
touched the walls of stone
prayed for love and forgiveness
longed to go in
saddened that
on a Sunday
a Church could stand empty
I felt its
loneliness
echo in my Soul
then gazed at the sky
echo in my Soul
then gazed at the sky
a brilliant cobalt
blue
and realised
God was here
all around me
deep inside me
all around me
deep inside me
a Church could
be unpeopled
on a Sunday
alone on a hill
on a Sunday
alone on a hill
surrounded by
autumn trees
shedding their leaves like tears
shedding their leaves like tears
yet never truly alone, nor lonely
for God is always near.
Saturday, 10 August 2013
Take a chance ... dare to believe ..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=p04TYk4j0zQ
Billy Joel sings ... New York State of Mind, with a young man, who dared to ask a question ... may I accompany you .... and magic happens as a result.
Friday, 2 August 2013
Let the genie free.
In my secret forest
at the bottom of my garden
I discovered a shell
It was empty
Yet when I held itat the bottom of my garden
I discovered a shell
It was empty
to my ear
It was full of life
The swirling ocean
rushing, roaring, crashing
to the shore
The shriek of a gull
soaring, gliding, searching
with watchful greedy eye
The whistling of the windrushing, roaring, crashing
to the shore
The shriek of a gull
soaring, gliding, searching
with watchful greedy eye
whipping up the sand
salty grittiness stinging my eyes
Oh no!
I quickly dropped the shell
and all was calm again
I licked the salty tearand all was calm again
dislodged by the sands
of my imagination
Rubbed my red rimmed eyes
which dared to believe
I had swam in the ocean
held my face up to the breeze
swung my arms and danced
along the beach
rejoicing in my freedom
In my secret forest
at the bottom of my garden
a shell lay silent
a gift from the sea
longing for me
to pick it up once more
and let the genie free.
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
Cast Adrift
Cast adrift
in a tumultuous storm
of one's own making
no clouds with silver linings here
just blackened cumulonimbus
sagging from the weight
of unshed tears
it takes
one act of kindness
one shaft of light
one seed of hope
to release those tears
dissipate the clouds
and welcome back the sun.
Mandy Edwards (c) 2013
Sunday, 28 July 2013
Blind Devotion
Blind Devotion
Along the river bank one day
I met a man and dog at play
the dog carried in his mouth
a rubber ring
an awkward thing
but that was not the strangest sight
his faithful eyes were milky white
“How can he find the ring?” I askedI met a man and dog at play
the dog carried in his mouth
a rubber ring
an awkward thing
but that was not the strangest sight
his faithful eyes were milky white
And his master softly laughed
“I make sure he knows,” he said
bent down to point his blind dog’s head
toward the way that he would throw
and with wagging tail off he sped
the ring jostled by his side
then tumbled to the ground to hide
at first the dog walked round and roundtoward the way that he would throw
and with wagging tail off he sped
the ring jostled by his side
then tumbled to the ground to hide
sniffed and sniffed ‘til it was found
then headed off in joyful glee
you would not know he could not see
back eventually he came
sat back down – “more … more … the same”
every muscle was a quiver
he knew his master would deliver
And I?
I cried inside as I stood there
watching this devoted pair
For love that binds a man with dog
is surely love that comes from God.
is surely love that comes from God.
Thursday, 25 July 2013
"Be sure the light you have is not your darkness"
A lighthouse stands alone
on a rocky promontory
flashes intermittently
a ribbon of radiance
in the inky blackness of the night
A ship frantic in the storm
searches for sanctuary
exposed like a hapless moth
drawn towards the light
Ignores the warning
"Not here ... not here ... not here"
but lured by a false God
is tossed ever nearer
"Be sure the light you have
is not your darkness"
Let not Neptune's fury
dash all hope upon the rocks.
is not your darkness"
Let not Neptune's fury
dash all hope upon the rocks.
Mandy Edwards 2013 (c)
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