The stream (all workshops)
Get away
A time to remember
Family who really loves me
Learning to love them with all my heart and my soul
Vacation
“I hope I die before you”, she worries.
“I don't want to be alone.”
“But you'll have the two dogs and some family.
Besides, I'll need you to host my Celebration of Life,
and read a poem for me. Maybe this one.
And play the music I liked for everyone;
maybe tell a joke or two, so things don’t get too somber.”
“But you won't be there.”
“Yeah, more or less, that's how I see it too my love.”
Stone
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
Before I could get my license
And learn to drive a car
Before I could walk across the stage in a cap
And hold a diploma in my hands
Before I could wear the white dress
With the buttons down the back
Before I could find my direction
And purpose
And what I was meant for
My body started
Turning to stone
And soon, I couldn’t move
Couldn’t walk
Couldn’t run
Couldn’t reach
And even though I was still young
I would never again be free.
I poured them all out
Tender feelings
Calmly
Said what my heart thought about
The subject of us
Soft words echoed
In the space between us
Spoken blindly
But true
And the lamp didn't blink
The floor flatly didn't think
The walls just stood there, blank
They all had you to thank
For the expression on your face
Was just the same
And the day drizzled into a storm,
one that rolled gently over the valley
Enveloping the streets below "The Hill"
making heavy breaths, moving slow.
Water, water everywhere...
More than enough to choke me,
too little to float a boat, swim in
or cleanse the soul of the city.
The river runs ice-free this year
no break-up and flooding,
"Canal walk" striding past
Blue Crocus and Pussy-willows
Their bikes stormed past
the church lane, down
to the end of the road
where the gravel thins off
into nothingness
but dandelions, clover,
and Queen Anne's Lace.
The five boys wrestled their bikes
into a tight huddle, faces flushed from
riding so darn fast, and so darn hard,
hearts pounding inside their youthful chests -
still innocent,
still fragile.
In the green flourishing garden
a splendor of view comes in
with a radiant display
showcase a place where it builds
with a seed of love
spread with a full
spectacular of look
from its unconditional nurturing
Echo of whisper tune
carrying in a soft silent breeze
beauty unfolds in the
exquisite blooming
flowers are dancing
birds are chirping
a symphony of songs playing
accompany by humming bees chasing
greetings from the young lively spring
with the vivid imagery of vibrant colors
Although the night was cold
And the rain poured down
The crafty old fox, still felt bold.
He put up with the weather
Because he thought he was clever.
So, he conjured up a plan –
Living nearby was a horse called Gift.
The fox kept his eye, on the horse for a while
Whilst licking his lips – he was hungry, they were dry.
The horse was as fit as a fiddle
Because of the grass he ate - healthy greens.
The fox with white socks and red fur
Could also eat grass but meat he preferred
Above All Else
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
How I wish I’d never been taught
That being a selfless carer
Is what made you holy
All it did was make me
The perfect candidate
To love violent men and addicts
We must never again tell a woman
That they can’t keep anything for themselves
Knowing full well
They will give everything they have
Until there is nothing left
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