My home town is often criticised for being dreary and dull. Nobody else is allowed to say that; only me. It’s my prerogative for being born there.
Queen Victoria allegedly insisted on closing the curtains of the train as she travelled through the district.
Yet, so often we ignore the brilliance and beauty of what is right in front of our eyes. Too often we dream of more pleasant surroundings, and there is nothing wrong in doing so. But we should also take time to see what we have before we rush off in hope of something more stunning.
My home town is not beautiful, but it’s mine.
Search and you shall see.
Maybe Queen Vic should have opened her eyes a little more generously, or at the very least drawn the curtains on the off-chance of seeing something unexpected.
The withering leaves
Gather time in their colour.
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” ~Albert Camus
Fallen ambers glide
Onto the timeless pebbles.
Wherever they go.
Mesmerising colours seemed to fall from the sky along each individual leaf, that remembers softly as it calls for the end.
It arched its body in a defiant flap but would never let me catch it.
Silently and gracefully it returned to its flotation in the water – ready for me to study its beady eye.
I’ve wandered this path
For a thousand moments.
Never seeing it.
There’s beauty anywhere, if you look hard enough. How many feet, of man and beast, has trodden this way? The uneven steps are evident of movement. History creeps along its lines and time seems to be reflected in its watery partner.
Loving old priceless things,
I’ve scorned those seeking
Truth outside themselves:
Here, in the tip of the nose.
Gather leaves and grasses,
For the Autumn passes
Chilling winds are blowing.
It will soon be snowing.
John Henry Bonner
This used to be one of my favourite places as a child: a little contrived but I always liked its form.
“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it”
Posts on the pathway
Do they guide or enable?
Free to be myself.
There’s nothing there. Nothing to see but reflections of former glories.
If we look we can see, without searching.
When will we learn to appreciate the places and the people who are nearest to us?
When will we accept their imperfections and their brilliance?
Ignoring neither, living with either – within ourselves.
Hidden in tarmac
It shields its majesty well
Alight in the rays.
“Life is a thing to be lived, not spent; to be faced, not ordered. Life is not a game of chess, the victory to the most knowing; it is a game of cards, one’s hand by skill to be made the best of.”
― Jerome K. Jerome
(An author from my home town)