Bird School

Remembering a time when our dad watched us gazing up at the sky as a flock of birds swooped by and told us they were coming home from school.......

                                                          BIRD SCHOOL

It's absolutely true

That, just like you,

As a general rule

Birds go to school.

At half past three

When it's time for tea

Look to the sky

Where the clouds float by.

See the birds on the wing

As they soar and sing

For all in a flock

They looked at the clock

And twittered about

When school was out!

Now they're off to their nest

For a feathery rest

And a goodnight cheep

Before they sleep.

Need a bit of sunshine......

Everyday is a blessing whatever the weather, and as I look out on a rainsoaked garden this Monday lunchtime I think the trees have never looked more beautiful - here in Speen we are surrounded by them, being in an area of dense woodland. The branches covered in the deepest green leaves bow nearly to the ground, and form dark leafy  tunnels on the lanes around us which purify and freshen the air. It feels almost like a rain forest here....
However, I am ready for some sun, and the garden fairies....

                             When the night is drawing closer
                              And the moon is in the sky
                             The stars above are shining,
                              Here the garden fairies fly.

                              With dresses made of rose petals
                              And gossamer for their wings,
                              They land upon the dewy grass
                              And dance in fairy rings.

                             Sprinkling magin fairy dust
                             They dart amidst the flowers,
                              Tending all the garden plants,
                              Through the night time hours.

                             And in the morning, all is well
                             The fairies' work is done,
                              Sweet peas and daisies, all in rows,
                             Turn their faces to the sun.

The Same Old Sun up in the Sky

On my journey home from Southend last night I looked at the sun, hanging in the sky like a huge red ball. I remembered telling my grandson Jude in America to look up at the sky whenever he was missing us, and know that we would be looking at the same sun even though we were far apart. It's a comforting thought knowing we share the same sky. 'A thousand miles can't separate, Or loosen binds that tie, And I can summon up your face In the blinking of an eye'.