Summoning Love

vapour trail to motion slow

strained synapses fire sporadically

consumed strength from inner structure

muscular wasteland waits on the tick

process impeded on sun’s descent

digits fail to depress

closer to calm’s entrance

prompting summation of time

craggy surface seeks reprieve

lashes meet and mesh

screaming silence into lobes

utter not mindless words

invasive

persuasive

enticing

demanding

the beckoning arms of stillness.

Fish Love Wish

I’d love to be a goldfish

and swim around all day.

My humble home for one

here is where I’ll stay.

I could do just what I like

which is nothing much at all.

Except for when you’re watching

that’s when I have a ball.

But you’re not here that often

you’ve got better things to do.

Would you possibly consider

turning this one into a two?

I think I’d like a buddy,

to frolic with and play.

To dash and dive and dance with

and chase my cares away.

I’ve thought about this often

when I’m on the dash.

One more lap around the bowl

I’ll be back in just a flash.

I’d love to be a goldfish

and swim around all day.

My humble home for one

here is where I’ll stay.

A goldfish has entered the house of love after being bestowed upon Now 6 for his birthday. She has been given the title of Goldy (thank you creators of Peppa Pig for your ingeniousness). My son’s seemingly total lack of creative flair in naming our pets has landed us with Bluey (the blue budgie) in 2012 and now Goldy the goldfish. To confuse matters more we have a Golden Retriever whose name is not Goldy but is lovingly referred to as Golden Girl now that she is in her twilight years.

If/when we decide to get a cat it must be multi-coloured so that it doesn’t get called Blacky or some such other nonsense. I’d rather be outside calling ‘Rainbow’ and sounding like a total nut job.

Whether Goldy gets a mate is up for debate. We picked the first one so that the bowl wouldn’t be an empty gift. ‘Yay! I got a bowl with nothing in it!’ A second trip to the pet store might be in order. What’s the bet he’ll come home with a Blacky?

Who knows? Maybe the fish will have a renaming ceremony sometime soon. I just hope this happens before we have to flush the poor mite. Never mind. At least I don’t have to call it to come back to its bowl.

Something’s fishy with love.

© Kelly Hibbert 2013

Image from: here.

Love Leaves and Then Comes Again

I fought to the death
With courage and strength from birth
I am not forgotten
But returned to the earth.

Scattered, withered, lifeless
Until picked up on a breeze
Thrown heavenward by little hands
Do with me what you please.

No need to show remorse
Please don’t shed a single tear
Just remember me as I was
Until I’m back next year.

The Autumn leaves have fallen.

During Autumn the foliage turns the most amazing hues. Crimson, amber, copper, lime and blush. Watching the kids bundle them up, throw them into the air and then start all over makes me laugh.

The crunch of leaves underfoot as you walk along reminds me of rustling paper. Some are just that; paper thin and fragile.

The only part about Autumn I don’t care for much is the fact that it signals the imminent onset of another Winter. We’re not friends-to say the least.

We watch as that last leaf zigzags it’s way to the floor below; it has re-joined all those that fell before it. The promise of Spring and new life, just around the corner.

What is it that you love about Autumn?

Falling in love.

Image from: here.

Eyes of Love

Eyes without desire

Hungry for fuel to fill the soul

Embers of a fire

Once burned with passion

Just alive inside.

Looking without seeing

Wishing for a clear view

Blinds drawn across

Unveil the sight

For all to witness.

Visions of a future

Daring all who cross

Bear the burden

See what I feel

Come and love with me.

In writing this poem I wasn’t thinking in a specific direction. I had no deep message to convey. Allowing the words to create the journey for my thoughts was the purpose. I would sincerely appreciate if you don’t click the like button and go today. What would give me great satisfaction is knowing what you liked about it, if the words resonated with you or how you interpreted my expression.

Kelly ♥

© 2013 Kelly Hibbert, all rights reserved.

Images from: here and here.

The Last Post of Love

Lest We Forget About Love

I won’t hear The Last Post today trumpeted from a bugle in person. I will see it on TV and the hairs on the back of my neck will stand just as straight as the servicemen and women will at each ceremony held around the country.

I won’t see the veterans march through the city streets. I will slow to match their pace today and pause for a minute to remember the lives lost in all conflicts in which Australians have fought and continue to serve.

I won’t be laying a floral wreath at the base of a memorial. I will place fresh flowers in a vase atop the bench to honour the casualties of war.

I won’t have the words to console the relatives of the fallen. I will help my children to understand the sacrifice made by our armed forces.

I won’t be camping overnight on the shores of Gallipoli. I will go to bed tonight grateful for freedom and peace in our Lucky Country.

I won’t be waving a flag or bear medals on my left breast. I will watch the ANZAC match and bake Anzac biscuits for us to share commemorating this historic day.

I won’t be at a Dawn Service today. At least not in person. I will be there in spirit and my heart will fill with the love and pride I feel to be able to call Australia home just the same as every person who attends a service.

They went with songs to the battle,

They were young, straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,

They fell with their faces to the foe.

♥

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

Lest We Forget.

I love a sunburnt country as the sun rises.

Image from: here.

I Love You Like Crazy

Crazy little thing called love.

Is it possible to love your child too much? How much love is too much? How would you measure it?

 

By the amount of kisses given on cheeks of a slumbering child?

By repeating ‘I love you’ when they drive you wild?

By the lengths you’d go to ensure they’re happy?

By the amount of times you’ve changed a nappy?

By the time it takes to takes to tie a shoelace?

By the distance they run to win a race?

By counting the times you hold hands and skip along?

By the ways you console when something is wrong?

By the energy needed to push kids on a swing?

By the truckload of rhymes that you’ll probably sing?

By the width of your arms just before giving a hug?

By the strings of your heart they’ll be sure to tug?

By measuring the amount of love one heart can give?

By the fullness of a life with kids that you live?

 

Crazy in love.

Image from: here.

It Hurts to Love

I love to feel
to feel no pain
no pain inside me
inside me is empty
is empty of hope
of hope for tomorrow
for tomorrow never comes
never comes for me
for me it hurts
it hurts to love.

Image from: here.

Love an Uplifting Quote

Image from: here.

A Life of Love

Loving the life I live.

I lose my temper at times but I love you.

I get frustrated when you are stubborn but I love you.

At the end of each day I am grateful that I have the chance to love you.

Your life is a gift of love to me.

The Gift of Life

Everybody Knows:
You can’t be all things to all people.
You can’t do all things at once.
You can’t do all things equally well.
You can’t do all things better than everyone else.
Your humanity is showing just like everyone else’s.

So:
You have to find out who you are, and be that.
You have to decide what comes first, and do that.
You have to discover your strengths, and use them.
You have to learn not to compete with others,
Because no one else is in the contest of *being you*.

Then:
You will have learned to accept your own uniqueness.
You will have learned to set priorities and make decisions.
You will have learned to live with your limitations.
You will have learned to give yourself the respect that is due.
And you’ll be a most vital human being.

Dare To Believe:
That you are a wonderful, unique person.
That you are a once-in-all-history event.
That it’s more than a right, it’s your duty, to be who you are.
That life is not a problem to solve, but a gift to cherish.
And you’ll be able to truly enjoy your life and find true happiness…

Author
Unknown

I was inspired to share this poem after reading Amber’s post over at “Normal is the New Boring”. I cannot claim it as my own.  Poetry is not one of my strong points. I’ll leave that up to brilliant bloggers like Kimberly at Words for JP.

I first read this poem many years ago and have since lost the paper copy I had. So I went looking for it online knowing some of the key lines that have stuck like glue in a crevice somewhere inside my grey matter. When I did locate it I found more than I’d been searching for. I love finding true treasures and this website is one of them. It has many more poems that may inspire you or someone you love to be the best ‘you’ you can be. You might find me over there again later beckoning you in. Click here to visit Teens Self Help.

Love your life.

Kelly.

Image from: here.

Just a Minute for Love

Love in a minute.

Is that all you’ve got? Is that all it takes?

It’s all that I have so that’ll have to do for now.

How many times a day do you say, ‘just a minute,’ or, ‘in a minute,’ to someone you love? I don’t think I’d want to know the answer to that question myself. My kids would probably be able to tell you though. And for them being asked to wait a minute is probably comparable to an adult being asked to wait an hour. When I asked my nearly three (year old) to wait for just a minute today he cut his own hair again and it’s his birthday tomorrow. Sigh. What else can I do? We’re off to the barbers in the morning to see if Tony can make it any less noticeable. I don’t think it’s going to make much difference though so all photos will be profile shots of his left side.

For a fair portion of today I have thought to myself I’ll do my blog in a minute. It hasn’t happened until now-6 hours later. Now I only have a minute (or two) before I am blogging tomorrow.

On a completely different tangent did anyone else out there make the correlation between there being sixty seconds in a minute and that one’s resting heartbeat is supposed to equal 60 also?

Anyhoo. I’m going to finish tonight with a challenge I’ve set for myself. Many people talk about what they might do if they knew their time was coming to end (their time was up). Normally this would mean making plans, fulfilling dreams and telling the people closest to them how much they love them. I’m going to do that right now but in only 60 seconds, starting now…………

My boys,

I love you with all of my heart

With every beat of your heart

please remember that.

I love the smell of your hair

the touch of your skin

and your smiling eyes.

You amaze me,

fill me with delight and wonder

and you are proof that I achieved greatness.

If you only had a minute what words would you choose for those in your heart?

I love you every second, with every beat.

Image from: here.

I Love You Haiku

I Love You Treasure

Evidence of you is all around our home. Toys in the lounge room, dishes in the sink, pictures you’ve drawn on the fridge and photos of you on the wall.

When you were born we had your hands and feet cast, dipped in gold paint and framed so we would never forget how little you were when you began your life with us. As I look at that frame it occurs to me that I don’t stop very often to actually take note of how small you were. I treasure that frame, and your brother’s frame, and will have more time in years to come to notice those details more frequently.

Right now I see the handprints you leave on the T.V, the wall, the door, the table and any other surface you come into contact with. Each week I try to wipe away any evidence that you’ve left on surfaces all in an attempt to have a clean home. The handprints in the photo were special ones that you made as a gift for your dad and I with the accompanying poem:

I know you wipe some away,

but these handprints were made to stay.

So keep them forever, a treasure they’ll be.

A special ‘I Love You’ for you from me.

So I’d just like you to understand that I love you, treasure, and I’ll remind you everyday even as I wipe those other handprints away.