The Roads We Travel

The Rain Beats a Lullaby


I could not sleep,
Then the storm came in.
It made me feel the most serene,
I had ever been.

The lullaby
The rain beat,
Had sung me gently
Off to sleep.

I slept soundly
As lightning lit the sky,
And thunder clouds
Rolled slowly by.

When I awoke
To birdsong
The stirring storm
Had long since gone.

The air was fresh,
The sky was clear
No memory for most,
That a storm was here;

But each night I pray
For the stormy rain,
So I can sleep peacefully
Once again.



Another Piece of Childhood Gone


There used to be an old house on the corner,
Where us young kids would go and hang around.
They demolished it, ten years ago,
Because it was falling down.
And the school where I spent my formative years –
Some bad, but mostly good –
Was closed down when the cash ran out,
And is now all boarded up.
Why is it, as we get older,
And we want to reminisce,
The things that were once major in our lives –
The things we never thought we’d miss –
Are the things we long to see again
Since our lives have now moved on,
But they’re now just passages written in time,
And another piece of childhood gone.
How I wish I could ride the dirt again,
Where the big superstore now stands.
Riding freely on my bike,
Through tough and gritty lands.
And the old man who used to live at the top of the hill,
Whom we affectionately called Uncle John,
Moved ‘upstairs’ to Our Lord, a long time ago,
Yet another piece of childhood gone.
I guess that’s why we have memories,
They’re what tie our years together,
And like our lives, nothing stays the same,
And nothing lasts forever.
Like the seasons come and go,
Things they have to move on,
But it’s always affecting to see another
Piece of childhood gone.
As I watch the young kids playing now,
I wonder if they realise
That in just thirty years or so,
This place they won’t recognise,
And I wonder if it will make them see
How quickly things move on,
And make them feel sad, like I do now,
At another piece of childhood gone.
I only wish they knew it now,
Before it’s a piece of childhood gone.



Face Value


I’d only ever ‘heard’ the phrase –
A face ‘etched with pain’ – before,
But as I look into your eyes,
I now know what it means for sure.

It tells a whole story,
In just a few sad lines.
I guess no matter what you try to hide,
The face betrays the soul sometimes.

I don’t normally take
Anything I see at face value,
But your face is testament
To all that you have been through.

Every scar and every line
Tells of how your soul was broken,
It recounts a heart-breaking tale,
Without a single word being spoken.

Every hurt and every loss,
Has left a visible trace.
A track of tears and despair,
Upon your weary face.

Sometimes we choose not to look,
Because we don’t want to see,
But how can you ignore an open book,
Displayed so tragically.



The Kitten and the Rain


The kitten sits on the window ledge,
Her nose pressed to the windowpane.
At first, fascination, then utter consternation
To catch the falling rain.
As she watches and she tries
She turns her head
From side to side
And up and down –
She’s mystified!

She’s sure she caught
That last one,
But when she looks
It has gone!
And as each new
Raindrop falls
She ties herself in knots
Trying to catch them all.

She runs the wood and spies to chase,
But all her efforts seem to fail,
And she jumps and arches her back
When the soft rain turns to hail.
In the end
She gives up;
She’s not impressed,
She’s had enough.

She’s more than vexed
With this game,
So she slinks off
With her back to the rain.
But then she’s not one
To walk away
When there’s actually ‘quite’
A fun game to play.

So she jumps on the table beside the window ledge,
Peers around and fixes her eyes.
She’s determined to catch a raindrop
With the element of surprise!
And so the game continues
And her ambition carries on.
She knows she’s sure to be the winner,
When the rain stops and is all gone.



She Walks With the Wolves


She walks with the wolves,
And her voice is the wind across the plain.
She sleeps beside the lion
And with eagles soars o’er the mountain range.
She is the clean, fresh air,
The pure water of the falls.
She is the guardian of nature,
Walking with the wolves.
She cups her hands and takes a sip of water
From the cool, crystal stream,
And it reflects her transcendent beauty
That seldom few have seen.
The lion – her protector – walks on ahead,
She is part of his pride,
And the white wolf from the northern country
Never leaves her side.
She oversees the storm
As it threatens in the sky.
She burnishes the lightning
And herds the thunder clouds as they roll by.
She walks barefoot from one landscape to the next,
And as the early morning calls
She rouses the beast;
Her soft call awakens the flowers
As she walks with the wolves.
She runs her hand thru’ the willow,
Walks kindly thru’ the reeds.
Her gentle touch nurtures the land
And gives the nourishment it needs.
Be it the lowlands, plain or snowy woodland,
She is the keeper of it all.
The tender custodian who brings the light
As she walks with the wolves.



I Just Haven’t Found One Yet


I want to fight for something,
I’m just not sure what.
People say I’m a ‘rebel without a cause’
But I’m really not.

The whole world over,
There are fights being lost and won.
Some use their voice or a pen
Whilst others use a knife, a gun.

There are heroes and cowards,
Dreamers and fools.
Some will go by the book,
Whilst others break the rules.

Some will make the headlines,
Others battle silently,
But they all have a goal in sight
And I want that for me!

So like a stranger is a friend
That you’ve just never met,
I’m not a ‘rebel without a cause’ –
I just haven’t found one yet.



No-one Else to Talk to


The girl sits on the shoreline, talking to herself,
People pass her by, knowing she’s lost and confused,
But their compassion doesn’t stretch to a girl who’s slightly crazy,
And they’ve seen her so many times, to them she is old news.
The pastor always says a prayer, at church for her on Sunday,
And they all nod their heads as they say Amen,
But the vulnerable girl he asked them
to give help and strength to,
Never runs thru’ their minds again.
If they saw somebody fall down,
They’d pick them up and take them home,
But they won’t even approach the girl
Who sits talking, on her own.
They don’t understand her reasons –
And they’d be ashamed if they knew –
That she is only talking to herself
Because there’s no-one else to talk to.
One day the girl’s not on the shoreline,
No-one knows where she has gone –
And nobody questions it –
Not a single one,
And after a few days
It’s like she didn’t exist.
They’re not concerned that she is gone
And she will not be missed.
No-one had seen her fall down,
There was no-one to pick her up.
No-one ever looked for her
Because no-one cared enough,
And when by chance somebody found her on the rocks
It was clear the darkness had won through.
But maybe things would have been different,
If she’d had someone to talk to.



Goodbye to a Friend


Taking in one last look of every room,
Memories come fast, emotions stir inside.
We’ve lived here for almost twenty years,
And it’s hard to say goodbye.

I know it’s only bricks and mortar
But I feel like I’m losing a friend.
I run my hand over the outdated wallpaper,
Remembering when the pattern was all the trend.

I try to tell myself ‘It’s just a house,’
The kids are now all grown,
But I remember so fondly
This was once our family home.

It was our shelter in the storms of life,
Our stability when life got crazy.
The ups, the downs, the in-betweens,
It was the beating heart that never ceased to amaze me.

I know I can take the memories with me,
But it will always be here they were made.
There’ll always be a little part of ‘us’ left behind,
Steeped in the foundations that our family laid.

There are memories etched in every room,
Of the good times and the bad.
This house shared our dreams and aspirations,
Witness to every precious moment that we had.

Then I hear my husband come into the room,
It’s already time for us to go.
I notice his eyes are red – he’s been crying too –
But he wouldn’t want me to know.

I pull the front door shut,
Lock it for the very last time,
Knowing this place will always hold
The story that was mine.

I whisper ‘You have a new family,
Make special memories with them.
Keep them safe from the storms like you did for us,
I’ll remember you always, my dear friend.’