Thou Art Mine!

Thou Art Mine!

I had just watched a wonderful television programme about the Bronte siblings, famous for their literary works and poetry. This inspired me to call in a channel with Spirit to write a poem using old-fashioned language. It tries to convey the majesty and awe of the mountains in words which are not of my making.

O mountainous glory thou art mine!
Whose velvet carpeting affords
Soft repose to weary limbs.
Whose lithesome wind
Caresses each pore,
Gladly surrendering.
Where an outstretched hand
May touch Infinity
And embrace it within.


O mountainous wonder thou art mine!
Whose poets and artists
Have long pondered life
And sought to imbue it with light.
Whose skylines are traced
With creative imaginings
Preserving God’s masterpiece in time.

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A Sunny Day in the North.

The view from my window is constantly changing but always entrancing.  We have all the seasons in Scotland (sometimes in the one day!) and each brings with it a transformative beauty.  I’d like to share with you the view from my home on a sunny day.

The tree in the centre of the picture houses a pair of woodpeckers who come to the feeder in our garden to collect peanuts.  The blue skies above are peppered with swallows, starlings, and bats in the evening.  I know I am so blessed to live in such a natural, healing environment.  Many a day has been spent watching the clouds go by, seeing the birds soaring and wishing I could fly with them!  Nature heals our heart and nurtures our soul.  It gives and gives, not expecting anything in return.  I want to be like that!  Nature lifts any low moods I have and reminds me to focus on the positives and how wonderful this world is.  Here’s the poem.  I hope you enjoy it!  Much love x

A Sunny Day in the North!

What a beautiful, sunny day!
A cosmic blessing on the rainy north.
The air seems to sigh and the spaces
Between branches shimmer.
And so the contraction in my body eases and melts
With the warming caress of the sun’s rays.
The daffodils nod and bounce
An outward show of their inner dance of joy.
They peer round to observe this object of beauty in the sky
Which beams its benevolent smile on us all.
This growing joy within me awakens the Inner Child
That wants to run and skip, make daisy chains
Lying in a field of tall grass, watching shapes in the clouds
As they meander, unhurried, like my past.
“Have patience,” I tell myself, “for the sun’s time is limited
And the chill yet prevails.”
But summer is knocking on the creaking wood
Around the door,
Whispering promises of lazy days and warm bones ahead.

Time to give back: Ban the Microbeads

tree of lifeThe Earth is amazing, isn’t it?  Mother Nature gives of herself – climate to provide protection and rebirth, trees to cleanse the atmosphere, rivers to provide sustenance and growth, and so on.    Why don’t we decide today (and every day!) to give a little back.  First thing you can do is actually quite major and that is to BAN MICROBEADS from your home.  You probably don’t know you have them!!  These are nasty tiny plastic beads used as exfoliators in personal care products.  They cannot biodegrade and are flushed into the seas, ingested by fish, and then ultimately by us.   To check if a product has microbeads, download the app from Google Play or App Store.  This scans the barcode of a product to check if it contains microbeads.  Learn more at and throw away any products which contain microbeads.  This is an easy, but very powerful way to show kindness to the Earth!

Winding Roads

We’re back from our Summer holiday, and I was reminded of a short break earlier this year.  This poem was written as we drove to Argyll in the west of Scotland on holiday. The scenery was spectacular. It was a Spring afternoon in April. Our journey had been prolonged by road diversions and we were weary to arrive at our destination. I know we all complain about the weather in the UK, but I do welcome the abundance of rain which is bestowed upon us in Scotland as it transforms our landscape into a vibrant painting of lush colours bursting with life and energy.  I think there’s a Scandinavian saying which goes along the lines of: “There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing!”  Enjoy the poem.

Winding Roads

Winding roads and lumpy hills
Lined by crowds of daffodils
Cheering on the weary traveller
“Not long now!” they cry.
Snow-crested mountains
Stand strong and serene
A majestic backdrop to this wonderful scene:
Ochre heather and grey-coloured scree
Trees clinging on at odd degrees
Ancient rocks clad in moss against the cold
Respite for travellers in days of old
We are intruders in this landscape
Yet it seems a part of me –
Our shared heritage and history.
But this land belongs to all, not some.
Softly winding roads leading us home.

Thunderous Land

Thunderous Land

Like a snarling, seething wolf it comes
Enraged and belligerent
With one aim and one aim only:
To clear the decks; its talons of fury
Shredding the decaying body of inertia
Licking at the wounds of torpor.
What a display of creation is this!
The elements in divine re-orchestration
Then, finally sated, to rest
Leaving freshness and newness
Unimaginable brightness.
Our world is refreshed
And the she-wolf can rest.

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