Keep Throwing

Kindness never makes a plea,
no thanks, no praise, no guarantee.

You may not see where it will fall,
or if it’s noticed much at all.
But in the earth or heart or sky,
it blooms where hope and love can lie.
So cast it freely, let it fly,
like seeds the wind will scatter high.
No need to know how far they’ll go -
just keep throwing, let it grow.

My Favourite Things

Campari on ice and sketching my friends,
Bright, sunny mornings that never quite end.

Laughter that lifts me, the colours of spring —
These are a few of my favourite things.
Bright blooming flowers, books filled with wonder,
Soft rolling clouds and faraway thunder.
Cleaning while dancing, my phone softly rings —
These are a few of my favourite things.
Scattering kindness like stars in the night,
Help where it's needed — it always feels right.
Salt on my skin and the sea’s healing wings —
These are a few of my favourite things.
When those I love feel joyful, not blue,
Sunbeams that sneak through the curtains at noon.
A brush in my hand to see what it brings —
These are a few of my favourite things.
When shadows fall
And sorrow clings,
I turn to these joys,
And my spirit sings.

The Purpose of Life

What is the purpose of this life?
A question that follows us

through trouble and strife.
Some people seek fortune.
Some people seek fame.
Some spend their lifetime
just chasing a name.
I don’t measure
my life by success.
Not by possessions,
or being the best.
I think life is deeper.
More tender than pride.
It lives in small moments,
with hearts open wide.

In kindness still given
when days have been hard.
In staying soft-hearted
when life leaves us scarred.
In offering comfort.
In helping. In care.
In truly listening
and fully being there.
And time is the greatest
gift we can give.
Because time is the life.
It’s how we live.
A call.
A warm message.
A hand held awhile.
A person beside us.
A laugh.
Or a smile.
Perhaps that’s the purpose.
At least, that’s for me:
To leave more warmth
wherever life lets me be.
To walk through this world
with love in my heart,
and leave, when I go,
small lights in the dark.

Heavier Than I Can Take

Today feels too heavy, I’m sinking so low,
The weight of the sorrow is starting to show.

You say I am strong, but I don’t feel brave,
I’m lost in the shadows I cannot escape.
Even the strongest will stumble and break,
Even the strongest have limits to take.
Dreams that once soared now fall from the sky,
Hopes turn to whispers, too quiet to try.
Even the strongest run out of light,
Even the strongest lose strength in the fight.
Tears that I hide now silently stream,
Drowning the flicker of one last dream.
Love? Love... just an echo, a name,
A fire that burns, a one-sided game.
Lifting, then breaking, it cuts like a blade,
Too many wounds, too much left unsaid,
Too many ghosts that live in my head,
Haunted by words that were never said.
I want to give up, let go of it all,
No strength to rise, no will to stand tall.
The weight is too much, it pulls me below,
Darker than darkness, heavier than stone.
Buried in silence, no breath left to take,
A heart that is tired, a soul set to break.
I’ll let myself fall, I’ll let myself weep,
I’ll rest in the dark where shadows run deep.
Even the strongest will falter and bend,
Even the strongest may long for the end.
But if there’s no dawn, if nothing feels true,
Then let the night take what’s left of me too.
Even the strongest will stumble and break,
Even the strongest have limits to take.
Even the strongest run out of light,
Even the strongest lose strength in the fight.
Even the strongest will falter and bend,
Even the strongest may long for the end.

The Flight That Stopped My Heart

It was cold spring of ’94,
A week before April we'd see,

I had to fly with friends to Kai Tak,
Hong Kong, flight Five Nine Three.

Bags were packed, the taxi on its way,
Not long was left to wait.
Oh, my eyes can’t see…
I couldn’t help but faint.
My heart just stopped without pain.

Six doctors and nurses then arrived,
I missed the flight and so survived.
Flight Five Nine Three went into the floor,
Seventy-five hearts would beat no more.
Three hundred limbs lay scattered
As all those lives were shattered.

I knew, I saw a black streak on snow,
Heard the loud, mournful howls
When my heart just stopped,
Protecting me from the flow.

I still often cry in quivers,
My body shakes, my heart shivers.
But grateful for the chance to be here,
With people who are so dear!
And I’m grateful, beyond measure,
For the gift of life, my greatest treasure.

The Window of the Mind

Two people stood by a window’s pane,
One saw dirt washed down by rain,

One saw dirt washed down by rain,
Clouds that wept, skies dim and grey,
Dreams fading, swept away.
The other saw green leaves so bright,
Washed anew in the softened light,
Sky clearing beyond the haze,
Whispers of blue through the misty maze.
Two people, side by side so near,
One saw gloom, the other cheer,
Both looked through the same glass frame,
Yet no two views are quite the same.
For the heart decides the sight we find,
Through the window of the mind,
And what we see, dark or bright,
Is coloured by our inner light.

A Thousand Cuts

People are brave with all they say,
How to survive, how to find your way.

But they don’t feel the thousand cuts,
The silent ache that never shuts.
There’s no clear path, no easy guide,
To heal the hurt you hold inside.
All I ask, with all my heart -
Please, just survive, hold on tight.
If I could, I’d take your pain,
Hold you close through every strain.
Cry with you, through all the storm,
Until you find a place that’s warm.

Between Memory and Dream

Between the past and what’s to come,
The present breathes, where we become

Shaped by what was, fuelled by what’s near,
Both dreams and memories guide us here.
Memories fade and shift with time,
Dreams push us forward, make us climb.
Here, in the now, we have the chance
To live, to change, to take a stance.
Dreams give us hope, memories soothe,
But it’s the present where we move.

Silence Is Louder Than Words

Silence…
it drips like water

on a stone heart.
Not sharp,
but relentless.
It says nothing…
yet speaks
of distance,
of absence,
of not being missed.
I listen for echoes
that never come,
holding my breath
between moments
that stay empty.
Even a whisper
would feel like touch.
Even one word
could mend the crack.
But silence?
Silence screams.
And the longer it stays,
the more I disappear
inside it.

I Like Mirrors

I like mirrors, let me say,
they show more than time and grey.

You watch young women passing by,
their laughter bright, their spirits high.
They look at you and what they see -
not only age, but mystery.
A thousand roads, a deeper grace,
a life still written on your face.
Perhaps they wonder where you’ve been,
what love you lost, what storms you’ve seen.
What kept your hopeful heart alive,
what gave you strength still to survive.
I like mirrors, I confess,
for what they show is often best.
I see a fire in your eyes
still strong beneath the changing skies.
A spark still reaching toward light,
still warm beneath the fall of night.
And something in that living flame
calls to my heart the very same.
For youth is not the skin we wear,
nor all those days untouched by care.
It lives inside the souls who still
can love with warmth, with hope, with will.
I like mirrors most of all,
though time may bend us, shadows fall,
they still reveal beneath the years
the heart that neither fades nor fears.

When the Storm Shows the Truth

Cyclone Alfred tears the sky,
a beast unleashed, a ruthless king.

He twists the clouds, he drags them high,
destroys, devours, makes hearts sting.
The world is drowning, bruised and torn,
I brace myself for what is born.
The wind howls like a demon caged,
it screams my name, it calls me prey.
The sea is wild, the heavens raged,
the ground beneath me slips away.
Will I still stand? Or will I drown?
Will silence fall when winds die down?
The rain strikes hard, the day turns black,
the walls around me start to sway.
The roof above me shudders, cracks,
will all I love be swept away?
Will I still see the morning light,
or fade into the endless night?
My mother’s voice, a phantom near,
comes through the thunder’s brutal song.
She held me close, erased my fear,
and said, “My girl, you still belong.
No storm can steal the light in you.
The dawn will rise and pull you through.”
And where are they, those friends I knew?
No hand to hold, no voice, no sound.
Not one to ask, “Are you safe too?”
Their silence drags me further down.
If they don’t care, if they won’t stay,
why should I keep them in my way?
I loved them all with all my soul,
through every storm, through every fight.
I gave them warmth, I made them whole,
yet they have vanished in the night.
Alfred has torn the veil away.
False friends were leaves that could not stay.
When Alfred dies and sun returns,
I will still breathe, I will still stand.
And where the last false bridge still burns,
I’ll cut the final, fragile strand.
Erase their names, delete them fast,
their time in my life gone at last.

Through Sorrow, Still Beautiful

I live with honesty, heart open wide,
Loved without fear, with nothing to hide.

Gave love freely, received it too,
Held many close, stayed strong and true.
Through kindness and art I found my way,
Embraced life’s colours day by day -
And gave my grateful heart its way.
I faced the sorrow, walked through the rain,
Learned from each moment, grew from pain.
Never let sadness turn me cold,
But softened instead, and gently bold.
I gave with heart, in quiet ways,
A smile, a hug, a word that stays -
Love was the light that shaped my days.
I stayed true to what felt right,
Chose my values over others’ sight.
Let go of what I couldn’t control,
Forgave, and freed my heavy soul.
I cared for myself, not perfectly so,
But tried with patience, soft and slow -
And found the peace I’d come to know.
I see the beauty in small things -
Morning light, the joy it brings.
Warm tea, a laugh, a gentle breeze,
The quiet hush beneath the trees.
I never needed something grand,
Just life unfolding, hand in hand -
Yes…I am Living a Beautiful Life.

A Curious Woman

Art lets her lose herself,
then find her way again,

a heart that burns in colour
through joy, through loss, through pain.
Her mind, a restless traveller,
returns but does not stay;
it gathers sparks from yesterday
and carries her away.
She smiles, though she cried oceans.
Her tears fed her roots.
She turns from falseness, coldness, harm,
and blooms where truth bears fruit.
Music lives inside her,
from piano keys to Swan Lake’s grace,
a pulse beneath her memories,
a refuge, and a place.
She loves the sea, the scent of rain,
the spark of something new,
real hearts, warm laughter, kindness,
and people who are true.
As women go, she is, perhaps,
not easy to define:
a curious woman, full of fire,
with a heart that still can shine.

I Can't Predict

I can't predict what tomorrow will bring,
Or promise the sun will always sing.

But today, it brightens your face,
And warms your heart with a gentle embrace.
It invites you to a joyful dance,
Where every step is a chance.
In its golden dance, you'll never be on your own,
Just follow its warmth, and you'll feel right at home.
The sun is life, and here we stay,
No worries of books or taps today.
To-do lists can wait till tomorrow’s dawn,
Let’s be here for each other, from dusk till morn.
Today, let’s live, let’s love, let’s laugh,
Embrace the joy along our path.
In each other’s warmth, we’ll find our way,
And in this moment, we’ll be happy today.

Not If, but When

It’s not if the sky will open—
it’s when the rain will kiss my face.

Not if the wind will guide me home,
but when it finds my steady pace.
The stars don’t ask if they may shine
they simply glow, by design.
And so do I, without a doubt,
My light is too strong to flicker out.
I love my life, my strength, my grace,
I don't chase ifs, nor beg for whens.
I never question storms or night—
I am a woman born of light.

Beyond the Sweet Affair

Love isn’t just a sweet affair,
It’s trust that stays when no one’s there.

It’s kindness done when no one sees,
Respect that moves with natural ease.
It’s care that listens, heart awake,
A promise kept for love’s own sake.
Not only thrills, but what endures,
the daily things that make love sure.
Love’s not a flame that fades to dark,
Not lovers wandering without spark.
It’s not a fire that burns then dies,
But warmth that rests in steady eyes.
It’s skin that knows it’s truly known,
A sense of safety deep and grown.
It’s passion felt yet calm, refined—
Desire that’s joined with heart and mind.
Love isn’t loud or built to show,
It steadies us through high and low.
It’s patience when the day feels long,
The courage found to right a wrong.
It’s giving space when hearts need room,
A presence strong enough to bloom.
It’s action more than what we say—
A steady love that lights the way.
Love isn’t flawless, smooth, or still,
It bends, it aches, yet holds by will.
It chooses truth when doubts run near,
Stays steady through another’s fear.
It learns through time, through loss, through grace,
A patient strength we learn to face.
It’s how we live, forgive, and start—
The faithful work of heart to heart.

The Journey We Live

Destinations may light the way,
But it’s the journey we live each day.

The choices we make, the paths we find
Shape our hearts, our souls, our minds.
A moment slips, like sand through hand,
Gone forever, hard to understand.
No hands can turn the ticking clock,
No waves can bring the past to dock.
So walk with care, but keep moving on,
Let your heart to guide you home.
For though the past can’t be undone,
The future is shaped by what you’ve begun.

I Bless the Tears

I bless the tears you still hide,
the grief you carry deep inside.

I bless the love you cannot show,
the tenderness you may not know.
I bless the words you never say,
the dreams that turn and drift away.
I bless the ache, the guarded part,
the locked room of your wounded heart.
I bless the past that shaped your days,
the loss that changed your inner ways.
I bless the shadows you have known,
the nights you faced and walked alone.
But love, if love is to remain,
cannot live just inside the pain.
It cannot hide behind a wall,
and still be felt as love at all.
I honour what is soft and true,
the warmth I still can feel from you.
I honour every tender hour,
each fragile seed, each living flower.
I hold the light of what is ours,
and let it breathe beneath the stars.
Not lost, not wasted, not denied,
but held with love I need not hide.
So I bless the tears you still keep,
the love you carry somewhere deep.
I bless the door not opened yet,
the words your heart cannot forget.
I do not close what still may be,
but love needs more than memory.
It needs two hearts that choose to start,
and meet with truth, from heart to heart.

I Am Brave Enough

I am brave enough to joke.
To find the light when others choke.

Brave enough to wear a smile,
And let it linger for a while.
I am brave enough to laugh,
To carve joy from my life's path.
I am brave enough to hide my grief,
To carry sorrow past belief.
Brave enough to face the day,
And let no stranger see the grey.
Brave enough to hide my pain,
In the sunshine, in the rain.
I am brave enough to hear,
Shallow men with words unclear.
Plenty of fish in the ocean, they say,
But my heart doesn't swim that way.
I am brave enough to mask my fears,
To dry my eyes, to hide my tears.
Brave enough to tell the world,
That I am strong, though storms unfurled.
I am strong, even when I'm weak,
In silence, I find strength to speak.
Brave enough to stand alone,
In the shadows, I have grown.

Loved by Life

I feel loved by life, by the lift of the day,
by the sun finding me on its way.

By warmth that arrives without reason or plea,
by joy that says simply: be.
I dance with the light, the sun close by,
steps full of ease as the hours just fly.
The ocean breeze plays through strands of my hair,
the vastness kissed by kindness and care
I feel loved by life, in ways small and wide,
in smiles that meet me and walk by my side.
Nothing to chase and nothing to prove,
just breath and rhythm and space to move.
The shadows have faded,
the weight is gone,
I walk in the gold of a brand-new dawn.
I feel loved by life.

From One Woman’s Heart to Another

Though I never walked beside your days,
I feel the love you left behind,

a grace that lives in every heart,
a light that time could never bind.
Your children carry all you gave,
your name still lives in voices dear,
and in your grandkids’ shining eyes
your spirit blossoms, bright and clear.
They speak your name with tenderness,
they hold your memory close and true,
and in the stories they still share,
your love comes softly into view.
In every kindness shaped by you,
in every smile your love has grown,
in every lesson, touch, and word,
the seeds you planted still are shown.
Though earth may keep your resting place,
your love still flows in all they do,
a warmth within their hearts remains,
forever part of them, and you.
You did not fade from those you loved,
your light still moves where hearts can see,
for all you gave still lives and blooms
within their living memory.

Shaped by Those We Meet

We are not shaped by self alone,
our lives reflect the love we’ve known.

By those who walked with us a while,
who gave their hand, who gave a smile.
They lent us strength when ours was small,
and helped us stand when we might fall.
Their kindness stays in what we do
and steady trust still leads us through.
Some saw in us a light so true,
far more than we ourselves once knew.
They did not push, they didn’t demand,
but helped us grow and slowly stand.
They gave us space to find our way,
to speak our truth, to live, to stay.
And what they gave remains inside,
a stronger self, no need to hide.
Yet not each heart that journeyed near
was guided by the same sincere.
They knew the door, they knew the key,
they knew the place of trust in me.
Then turned to silver, and betrayed
the very bond our trust had made.
A Judas echo, sharp and clear —
when faith meets loss we didn’t fear.
Some stay for years, some pass us by,
some lift our hearts, some ask us why.
Yet every soul we journey through
has shaped the self we slowly grew.
Through open hand and hidden card,
through what was kind and what was hard,
we come to see how we are formed —
by every heart that chilled or warmed.

The Click

I turned my phone off — soft, sure, quick,
a simple, shining, silver click.

A thread I couldn’t see or name
fell loose, released me from its claim.
No tiny tug upon my mind,
no pulse of ‘what did I just find?’
The day stood open, warm and wide,
and something loosened deep inside.
No more alert for every tone,
no more that glow that pulled me on.
No scanning screens for hidden clues,
no weighing silence as bad news.
The clock ticked on without demand,
the day lay open in my hand.
The quiet was not loss or lack —
it felt like taking something back.
I heard the house. I felt the floor.
Light spilled across the kitchen door.
The garden breathed in green and gold,
a story simple, bright, and bold.
A book lay waiting, thick and true,
a paintbrush dipped in fearless blue.
The world stepped forward, clear and kind —
and I stepped fully into mine.
That little click — so small, so slight,
became my doorway back to light.
No battle cry, no grand decree —
just space enough to fully be.
Not running, hiding, or alone —
just here, within my skin and bone.
I didn’t vanish. I didn’t flee.
I turned it off — and turned to me.

Words for a Restless Teen

You roll your eyes, you turn away,
You disregard the things she'll say.

She talks too much, she’s far too near—
You wish at times she’d disappear.
But mark these words I leave for you:
One day, she’ll fade from daily view.
And when her voice no longer calls,
You’ll miss her shadow on the walls.
You’ll long for just one small embrace,
To trace the lines upon her face.
You’ll cry, “Come back—I didn’t see…
How much your love meant most to me.”
The hands that now feel rough or unkind—
Once held your world with heart and mind.
You’ll find, when all the noise is gone—
She was your shelter all along.
So while she’s here, don’t look away—
You may not get another day.

Kindness of a Smile

A word can bruise, though lightly said,
and leave a shadow where it spread.

No mark appears, no scar is shown,
yet something warm may turn to stone.
A careless phrase may fade by night,
forgotten in the morning light,
but one who heard it walks away
and carries it along the way.
A smile can meet a tired face
and bring a small returning grace.
It does not promise, does not mend,
but feels, sometimes, just like a friend.
It may not heal the deeper ache,
or change the roads we had to take,
yet for a breath, the world feels real,
where human warmth begins to heal.
We never know what hearts conceal,
or how one passing glance can heal.
How much can turn on something small:
a word, a look, no sound at all.
So much is carried, much unseen,
between the words, behind the screen.
And still, through all we hide or feel,
a word can bruise, a smile can heal.

The Boomerang Law

There is a law no court can see,
no hand can hold, no voice decree.

It moves through time, through loss and gain,
through what we give, through what remains.
The boomerang law, some softly say,
returns what travels on its way.
Not always soon, not always clear,
but what we shape will reappear.
A hidden wrong may wear a crown,
may rise for years, then circle down.
What walks through life with borrowed grace
may meet itself in another place.
The earth keeps more than footprints pressed.
The heart knows where it was not blessed.
And truth, though patient, does not fade,
it finds the road that falsehood made.
But goodness circles back as well,
through lives we touch but cannot tell.
A simple kindness, freely sown,
may light a field we’ve never known.
So let the seasons turn and run,
beneath the moon, beneath the sun.
For every soul, in time, will see:
what leaves the heart returns to be.