My Poem ‘Fresh Start’

It’s a brand new morning,
on a brand new day,
at a brand new time,
for a brand new me;
it’s a brand new dawning,
on a brand new path,
to a brand new way,
at a brand new place,
with a brand new state of mind,
for a brand new poem,
about a brand new us,
and a brand new life for us
to live breathe and see.

I feel like I am going back to school.
I feel like I am having to learn things over again.
I feel like I am discovering
and tapping into a new source of inspiration fuel.
I feel like I am learning more about myself
every time I sit down with a piece of paper and a pen.
I feel like I am crossing a border
to an unfamiliar territory.
I feel like I am ripping out the last page of my story
from my book, and throwing it into the wind
for someone else to find and one day return to me,
and then we can both know what my last word
and what my last line of poetry will be.

It’s a fresh air that I feel,
and a fresh perspective that I now have.
It’s a fresh surge of blood, energy, and love
that I feel pumping and beating from my heart.
It’s a fresh and gleaming new coat of paint on the world
that I can see my face in,
because the shine is so clear when I look at it
I am instantly reflecting.
It’s a fresh cup that I am drinking from,
as I make the best of every second
of my fresh start.

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My Poem ‘British Summer Time’

You can’t believe how much the sun makes people smile
when it is glowing high in the sky,
until you see the genuine expression of joy
on a thousand faces in close proximity.
You can’t believe how good and great the sun can make you feel,
until you are standing under a cloudless sky,
in a park, in a vast green field in the countryside,
or in your own freshly-mown and glorious-looking garden,
on a sunny day at the peak of British Summer Time,
looking up at the vapor-trails of a passenger jet passing above-
whose passengers within minutes will go beyond having land below them,
and instead will have the gift of seeing the sight
of a sparkling beautiful blue sea.

I follow a path of fallen white feathers on the ground.
I trace the flight of two white butterflies dancing through the air.
I walk for miles, I walk for hours-
soaking up the sunlight that touches me,
and taking in every detail of everything that I see.
Everyone wants to be out there.
Everyone wants to make the most of the wonderful warmth,
the terrific light, the chance to do what they have been planning to do
for a long time.
I wanted to spread my wings;
I wanted to be a catalyst;
I wanted to be a silent bell
that only those who were able to listen properly
could hear my chime.
I wanted to think;
I wanted to feel;
I wanted to forge a brand new link;
I wanted to do something I have never done-
like take a ride on a Ferris wheel.

I love this time of the year.
I love the scent of blossoming flowers.
I love the smell of a barbecue.
I love looking out at the ocean while standing at the end of a pier.
I love standing by a river near a waterfall, or a bubbling brook-
hearing it, and feeling enchanted by it,
as if it had some special rejuvenating powers.
I love the overload of all my senses that I feel
when something is brand new.

The instant that the sun touched the crown of my head this morning,
I immediately felt a jolt of electricity surge down my spine.
As soon as I took my first step into the bustling
and exciting world that was awaiting me,
I knew that this would be a phase in my life that I would always remember-
the height of British Summer Time.