Something to smile at
Our Shower Loving Tortoise
Gwin is a Herman tortoise who we have had since he fitted into the palm of my hand.
He has an obsession with biting feet and will chase you all over the garden to bite your toes, shoes or the dog’s paws. Don’t ever let it be said that Tortoises’ are slow, Gwin is truly speedy for a creature with little legs.
Gwin loves showers. During the summer months he will stand for hours if he gets a chance underneath the spray from the hose, spreading out his legs and stretching his head up and out as far as it can reach!. In the winter he has showers inside. He has a heat lamp in his enclosure for the winter as we were advised not to hibernate him by the vet. The only affection he likes is a quick tickle under his chin.
Yes our shower loving tortoise, plays an important part in our family life.
Childhood Memories
A poem about childhood.
Childhood memories stir emotions in me
All senses wakened, I remember how
The imaginary games I used to play,
My bed the base, for new ideas each day.
Memories of childhood come and go
Imaginary scenes fill my head;
My bedroom, a football match full of teds
Noises through the window as I lie in bed.
The sun streams in, I feel clammy and hot,
Drifting clouds float silently by;
Through the open window smells drift in
Of flowers, grass and is that the bin?
Blue and yellow walls mimic the weather,
Hard blankets tucked in with flowery sheet;
The weight so heavy my legs feel stuck
My mouth feels chalky, no drink to suck!
My teddies smell musty, but filled with love
Cuddles and games have stuffed their fluff;
Dragons, battles and happy family scenes
Imaginary stories of days that have been.
On the bookcase near me are much read books,
Slightly faded, dog-eared, yet so very loved;
The smell and feel make me want to read more
Of excitement, fear and adventures galore!
The Trio
Friends in fact family,
Before they part. Orla who is mum and Paisley and Libby- half sisters!
We have had such fun with these three!
The cord will be broken next week!
Libby (our German Shepherd puppy and her ears) (fin)
I wish I understood those bits
That are stuck upon my head;
They move around every day
And usually in my bed.
Sometimes they’re down
They should be up,
“Strange looking” they say,
“She’s a funny pup!”
They wibble and wobble
My mum holds hers straight,
They bibble and bobble
What will be their fate?
My mum firmly licks them
And makes them all clean
I hide under chairs
So they can’t be seen;
They make people giggle
Perhaps they’re quite fun,
If I give them a wiggle
Or go for a run;
One day they’ll stay up
Though I may be quite old
Needed for listening
When to do as I’m told!
Till then they will wobble
And do what they want,
Up, down or flopping
Control them I can’t.
Heat Exhaustion (Fin)
The icebergs are melting,
“World catastrophe resounds;”
Sore, burnt people
Heat exhaustion’s all around.
Animals are struggling
With no place to go and hide
But still the people sun bathe
Until completely fried.
But in a desperate country
Filthy water makes you ill
No choice but to drink it
Why is it dirty still?
People starving, filthy water
World struggles are found;
Let’s see if we can help
Heat exhaustion’s all around.
ORLA -a German Shepherd (fin)
Orla the Shepherd with eyes sparkling bright
A coat so dark, as black as the night;
Ears pointed, the biggest I’ve seen
The way she looks- she thinks she’s a queen!
A very long nose, to seek and to find
Whatever it is she doesn’t mind;
Persistence she has she just keeps looking,
Black nose everywhere- look out for your cooking!
She barks when she shouldn’t and also jumps up,
It’s hard to stop her she believes she’s a pup;
Her excitement levels are always sky high
Orla can’t stop bouncing, even if she tries.
When Orla runs fast she bounds along
Checking on me in case something’s wrong;
I love to see her bounding graceful and free
A Shepherd so beautiful for all to see.
Orla looks sad, when requested to calm down,
She hates to upset you, to receive a “No” or frown;
She really wants to please, but manners are forgot,
Orla thinks she’s a puppy… but she’s almost not!
But Orla is sensitive, and senses when your sad
She leans her body into you, and tries to make you glad;
She licks you if she gets a chance, and cuddles up so tight,
Whatever Orla does in life, it’s done with all her might!
So if ever you are visiting, don’t be surprised when met
By an Orla special welcome, it’s one you can’t forget;
She’ll make you feel so special, you’ll believe she is the best,
And after her excitement you’ll be glad to have a rest!
Orla will never be forgotten, she makes quite sure of that,
She”ll nudge you, bring you presents, expect a treat when sat;
She is a special Brood Bitch now that is plain to see
Larger than life is Orla; I hope she stays with me!
On the death of a mum
My Mum Has Died
My mum has died I’m all alone
And Dad is hardly ever home,
Yet all he does when he is there
Is watch TV and sit and stare!
Missing her is all I do
It hurts so much, I want her too,
Usually she would be the one
To comfort me when life’s not fun.
My tears at night bring no relief
My body aches, I’m full of grief.
Hugs are gone and laughter left
She’s died too early, leaving us bereft;
And Dad says nothing, but I hear him sigh;
At night in his bed I hear him cry,
So the hospice called; Dad said we can’t cope,
We’re seeing people, we now have hope.
Dad’s making an effort, he tries to be fun
Sadness is easing; new life has begun,
Inside we still hurt, yet it’s not quite as bad
As now I know I’m not going mad!
Each hour is a challenge, some easier some not,
I’m looking out for my dad, as he’s all I’ve got.
Dad tells me we’re a family, even though we’re only two
The future’s opening up; but we miss her, we do!
An Acrostic poem about how one child felt that she and her dad were dealing with the death of their mum!
The Robin
Little Robin brown and red
Looks at me as he tips his head,
If what people say is true
Perhaps he brings a message too.
Again he sits upon a hedge
Another time a window ledge,
Another time I hear him sing
Peace to my hurting heart he brings.
For people say he is a sign
Sent by my husband to say he’s fine,
But whether it’s true or an empty hope
His frequent appearances help me cope.
So little Robin brown and red
Come once more and tip your head,
You’ve helped me live now off you fly
It’s time for us to say good-bye.
My pain is less you’ve helped me see
Though griefs still there I’m breaking free,
The future beckons me to come
Thank you Robin your work is done.
****** ***** ****** ***** *****
The Robin is one of the signs that many bereaved people find comfort in, and believe their loved one may have sent it to say they are ok.
Moments, Words, Pictures and Sounds 