My Poem ‘The Sun Dial’

There are always possibilities;
the future is not set in stone;
what we see and what we find
is sometimes beyond what we have dreamed about
in our fantasies;
what we build can last and endure for thousands of years,
like the Colosseum in Rome.

People and structures cast shadows
when the light of the sun is shining behind them;
thoughts and ideas are expressed instantly
when there is a phenomenal desire to share them;
music and poetry is the natural art of the soul
made tangible to ever sense of perception;
emotions and feelings always find a way
to give you some much-needed inspiration redemption.

Hope never dies;
those who fall must always try to get back up;
it’s good to smile, it’s good to cry;
you have to start at the bottom
to fully-appreciate what it takes to rise to the top.

You are always someone’s idea of perfection;
someone will always look back at you
and think of you as a dream come true;
you will always be the drug of someone’s addiction;
someone will do anything, and they will go anywhere,
just so that they can be happy-
and the reason that they are happy
is because they are with you.

We all go through things that are personal to us;
we are all at times affected and afflicted by the fever
and the cure of life;
we all remember what we have lost,
but what is important to you and to everything
is the thing that you take with you to sleep every night.

When you are out in the open,
staring out to the sea,
looking up at the clear blue sky,
or watching nature close-up maintain its never-ending cycle,
that keeps going, and keeps turning, and spinning,
like a multi-coloured, deeply-ingrained, album of vinyl;
when there is a light behind you
in place of a light and a direction to guide you,
you can always know where you are
and what time of your life it is
by looking around you and seeing the shape of the shadows
besides you and coming from you,
like telling the time by a sun dial.

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My Poem ‘Near and Far’

Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Do we live so that we can die?
Do we die so that someone can live?
Should we smile after we have cried?
Should we cry for those who will always be in our hearts,
and who we will always be with?

To forget is not in our nature;
to remember is in our blood;
to pay tribute is like creating a door;
to memorialize the fallen is to keep alive the memory
of those who once ran, walked, waited, stood;
to wear a symbol of respect and remembrance
is a hopeful token that costs nothing,
but is worth more than any money could buy;
to feel and to think about what someone must have been through
is a wonderful thing;
to glimpse even for a second that which
someone may rather try to hide
shows you in a glaring and glorious light;
to lay down a flower, a wreath, a thought,
even if you are doing so for those
who will always be a complete stranger,
is like a burst of colour in a field
on a beautiful day in spring.

Every fallen hero had a life-time of dreams;
every child fears the monsters of their nightmares;
every man and woman marching forward to a beat
knows what loyalty and duty means;
everyone who does what they can for someone in need
knows that life for all its magic and beauty
is not always fair.

Every person can make a difference;
every person we meet can be a guardian angel;
every person can be a guiding presence;
every person’s reputation precedes them,
and whether they know it or not
that sense of who they are
is always floating on the surface of a perceptual ocean,
until it rises fully and becomes visible.

There can be only one life for everybody;
there can be only one body for every life;
there can be lots of ways to remember someone,
and one of the best ways is to keep thinking about them,
to keep loving them, and whenever you look for someone
and need someone they are who you will see,
and they will be always a part of the dreams that you have at night.

When we take our final step on our life’s path,
and we step to the side, and stop and watch
the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, pass us by,
we can rest, we can be at peace, we can shine,
and be there for our loved ones,
like we have always been looked on and protected
by those who came before us who reside in the light of the stars,
that is when we realize that we never leave each other,
because we are always together-
no matter how close, or distant;
no matter how near, or far.

My Poem ‘My Dad’

Not every Father can be a Dad,
not every Dad can be a Father,
not every son can have a father,
or a dad to look up to,
not every son, no other son,
has a hero, a role-model, a giant,
a great, honest, kind-hearted, and caring,
man as their Father, like I do-
and that is why I am so lucky to have a Dad
who is as special as you.

You have always been there to hold my hand,
you have always been there to pick me up,
you have always been there to guide me home
like a plane coming in to land,
you have always been there for me,
and I have always looked at you and said to myself
‘that is and you are the man who I want to be
when I grow up’.

There is only one of each of us in this world, in this life,
and there can only be love and respect between two people
if it is proven time and again that what binds them
has been present since birth and will always be there.
I have always known that you and I were more
than just father and son;
I have always felt that you and I were like the Earth to the Sun,
and when I look at you I feel like I am looking at the best
and the most incredible man I have ever known in my entire life,
who has given me everything he could and more,
and who I sometimes look at when you are sleeping,
just like you used to look at me when I was a boy,
and I marvel in wonder at who you are,
and I remember all the places we have been to together,
and all the things we have shared.

I remember you teaching me how to ride a bike.
I remember you teaching me how to fire an arrow with a bow.
I remember you and I putting together a home-made glider
and spending an entire Saturday afternoon watching the glider
soar into the air and then return to Earth,
and then return to the air by your hand-
just as my imagination too became sky-bound and took flight.

I will never forget what you have taught me,
what you do for me every day,
and every moment with you has been the greatest gift a son,
a boy, a man, anyone and I have ever had.
I wouldn’t be the man I am, I wouldn’t have done what I have done,
nor seen what I have seen, or been where I have been, without you,
and that is why I am the luckiest son there has ever been,
because you are my Dad.

My Poem ‘The Teacher’

It all starts with our parents;
it all begins with the role-models that we choose early on;
it all grows from the first seed sewn
in the soft ground of our early years
when we are soaking in everything that we see,
and asking what it all meant;
it all falls into place when we hear something
and understand something for the first time, instantly,
and we take it to another level in our mind
until we can no longer contain what we know,
and we feel the need to pass all that we have learned
and the knowledge that we have accumulated on to someone else,
and perhaps even to a completely new and inquisitive generation.

People say that teaching is in the blood,
and I would have to agree;
but I don’t necessarily believe you have to be a teacher
in a school to educate another person-
to me, you have to have the insight and the gift
to show and to make someone, anyone, understand,
and imagine something that before they met you
they were unable or not yet ready to see.

Everyone can be taught;
however, their are some people who don’t want to learn.
The best teacher, the most inspirational
and amazing of guides of knowledge and life
can teach you something without you knowing-
they can encourage you to raise your hand
without you feeling that you have to wait your turn,
they can give you lessons to learn and live by
that you will remember always,
and to you will forever be a blessing.

We all have come to a time in our lives,
when we must take a step back again
and watch while someone who knows more about something than us
has to teach us so that we may better ourselves
for our own benefit, and that of someone we may never know,
or ever meet;
we all feel a great sense of pride in ourselves,
and in our teachers, when we then communicate that wisdom
and enlightenment and see with our own eyes
the moment when a open-minded and willing student
finally raises their head and says ‘I understand’-
for a teacher it just does not get any better than that.

I have been a student, and I have been a teacher.
I will always be the one who seeks out new knowledge,
and I will want to pass the torch of what I hold in my grasp,
even if it is just to one other person at a time,
but with the impact, the energy, the influence,
and the resonance of a public speaker.

We can all be the one who is there
to inspire the mind of someone else;
we can all be the one who is living the dream,
but who is also there to spark the imagination of a fellow dreamer;
we can all be the one who is keeping alive the fire of enthusiasm
in such a way it could never be doused;
we can all be the one who is both the pupil,
while at the same time they are the teacher.