My Poem ‘The Road Runner’

Opening and closing our eyes.
Inhaling and exhaling.
Watching and feeling our chest rise and fall.
Stretching and reaching for daylight.
Looking at the clock and blinking,
and accidentally losing track of the time.
Lying in bed, turning and stepping out,
and touching the floor of our bedroom with our feet.
Remembering that there is this thing called “gravity”
that keeps us all in-line and walking and standing fine.
Thinking and wondering what the new day has in store.
Doing what you do, as you paddle out to the sea
that is the outside world and leave the bed
that is your island of tranquility shore.

Feeling your mind racing.
Slowly building from a crawl to a run.
Feeling your senses interlacing.
Leaving your house at the velocity of the speed of sound,
like a bullet from a gun.
Chasing a dream.
Hoping for evidence of the unseen.
Seizing every moment of every second,
like riding the energy of a bolt of lightning.
Meaning every word that you say and never holding back
is something that we can’t all do sometimes-
even the sun in the sky is sometimes obscured by cloud,
which stops its rays from shining.

Being where you need to be.
Being with who you need and are meant to be with.
Seeing the things you need to see.
Seeing everything for what it is: a gift.
Remixing the old with the new in your own mind,
and in your daily life.
Fixing the broken as best that you can.
Masking you occasional reactions
with the expressions that people know you by.
Amassing connections that all fit together
to realise the picture of your well-meant and best-laid plans.

Showing yourself for who you are.
Laughing and joking at the unexpected.
Relaxing and shining effortlessly like a star.
Leading, as well as being led.
Standing exposed.
Running for cover.
Making the most of what was chose.
Enjoying every thing about being the road runner.

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My Poem ‘Home’

As the sun rose over the fields of England,
I looked down on my home from a green hilltop high above
and I felt breathless, as I took in the view
of this peaceful and tranquil wonderland.

As far as my eyes could see, all that greeted me
was infinite hues of gold, green, blue, and white-
trees, farmland- apparent, and hidden life,
going on far beyond my sight.

I am by myself, but I do not feel alone-
this place is where poetry is seen and written about,
this place, this island of diversity and beauty, in all its forms,
is the place that I am proud to call my home.

I love my home, because it is everything to everyone-
it always has been this beacon for so many people over the years,
no matter where they have come from.

I love my home, because not only is it a beautiful
and an inspiring place to live;
but it is also somewhere that you can discover and rediscover,
it is a place with a heart and a spirit of its own,
it is a place that you can grow with.

Even though I have lived here my entire life,
I have not seen, and I do not know, everything about my country-
every new village, town, and city,
has a rich and a varied identity and history;
every person that you speak to for the first time,
only adds to our country’s charm, allure, magic, and mystery.

From above, England looks green, alive, thriving-
even in the majestic cities, that light-up the country from street to sky,
there is somewhere for everyone:
whether you want excitement, enlightenment, inspiration,
or just somewhere that you can take in as you roam-
England is the best country on the planet,
England is where I will always return to,
and it will always be my home.