Tag Archives: Poetry

a real bouquet


A Real Bouquet
Author Unknown

Everybody has two eyes
Bright as stars they shine
But their color may not be
Just the same as mine.

Brown or blue, gray or green
What difference does it make?
As long as you can see the sun
Shining when you wake

Some folks’ hair is very black
Some have blonde or brown
Whatever color it may be
It’s a pretty crown

Flowers have so many shades
And I’m sure you know
Many lovely gardens
Where such flowers grow

Children in this great big world
Are flowers in a way
Some are light, some are dark
Like a real bouquet

Did you ever stop to think
How awful it would be
If everybody looked the same
Who would know you from me?


my youngest with her friend at the farm yesterday

they are of the same age and get along really well; children focus on their similarities, not their differences

they love being outdoors, enjoying the Spring sunshine


my pretty wildflowers, they are the real bouquet of this world!

Enjoy this beautiful Spring song, it’s so lovely now that this magical season is finally here! 


mon lapin


It is always advisable to enjoy  a few lighthearted moments in life.

Coco Nuit, 2 years old now

Coco Nuit, 2 years old now

My little rabbit, as black as night,

So black you can’t see him in twilight

My little rabbit, as soft as snow,

So soft to the touch, he is aglow

My little rabbit’s eyes, so brown and gentle,

He makes me happy, he is my petal

Mon lapin Coco Nuit, you are my bright light

You are my joy, you are my delight!

(poem by my young daughter)

raking leaves


I found this poem which brought a small smile to my face, it reminded me of my son’s activity last weekend! Do enjoy it!

The Aching Joy of Raking Leaves

by Steven West

From dusk to dawn,
Falling leaves coat my lawn.
Trees at my home and trees next door.
Cover my green, grassy floor.
With rake in hand, I stand alone.
Bending down with an aching moan.
Pile after pile I rake in place.
A warm, sweat covers my face.
Bags after bags there must be twenty two.
Finally, I say that I am all through.
Then just as I am ready to go inside
And lay on my couch with pillow aside.
Wouldn’t you know a gusty wind crosses my place.
To empty thousands of leaves on my space.
I take my rake and break it in two.
I’ve had enough raking; What more can I do?
A young boy taps me on my hand.
“For ten bucks I’ll rake your leaves off your land.”
I accept the offer then go inside.
Then collapse on my couch as if I had died.
It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
But I start counting leaves instead of sheep.

my son raked the autumn leaves for us this year

goodbye autumn leaves (the ever-green leaves on though)

my hubby raked the leaves last autumn

fallen leaves


I am truly inspired by glorious autumn at the moment, natural beauty all around every corner I turn! I go crazy on poems as a result of this, one of the best tools to release all the emotions I feel inside. I hope you will like one of my favourites below. The autumn days are now shorter (sunset around 4ish) and the gusty winds howl angrily each time which tends to scare me a little. The days are definitely getting drearier and colder (9-10c), I wrap up warm with copious cups of tea to keep me going. Nevertheless, I would like to wish everyone a happy November and to all Muslims, a blessed 1435 Hijrah (new year in our lunar Islamic calendar). I’m taking a wee break from blogging (just to catch up on other matters), do read my previous autumn posts, including those between Sept-Nov 2012. Better still, read all my posts whilst I’m away! 🙂


Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

Emily Jane Brontë

autumn leaves by our local park

autumn leaves by our local park

come little leaves


Come Little Leaves

“Come, little leaves,” said the wind one day,
“Come o’er the meadows with me and play;
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold.”

Soon as the leaves heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
singing the glad little songs they knew.

George Cooper (1838-1927)

red leaves on my neighbour’s wall

the leaves have gone!