Magazine Posts

Butterflies and moths have been around for millions of years. They used to be a common sight in gardens, but numbers have declined since the 1940s along with our other native wildlife species such as bees and hedgehogs.

It will come as no surprise to hear this loss is due to destruction of natural habitats such as wildflower meadows, peatbogs and ancient woodlands in favour of intensive farming practices, roads and housing developments that have stripped away the majority of their nesting and foods sites. Climate change is partly responsible for butterfly decline too, producing wetter weather that alters the distribution of certain species.............Click the image below to read the complete article at DIY Garden (https://diygarden.co.uk)

My nerves are a tingle.
My hands start to shake.
I am uncertain
if I'm dreaming or awake.
A terrible thing; most unkind
as thoughts race through my mind.
What happens to us,
if this Nation of We,
becomes that beckoning light,
that flickers and dies?

The greatness of this World is seen
with every sunrise with daylight in between.
What greater view, for which to strive,
then to watch the World come alive.
The musical notes, of the song
bird, float on the pure morning air,
as Bees and branches of trees,
stirred by the wind, are heard everywhere.

I was in a dream.
On a path, I chose to follow,
until I came to a pond,
with a large log, all hollow.
The opening much taller than I .
Outside it was covered with moss,
I moved to the mouth and did try
to enter the log; I heard my name; calling
and in a few steps, I was falling,
landing on my old knees.
In front of me, a sight that could please,
was the face of a friend, no longer here.
I struggled to rise from this musty place,
trying to crawl one knee at a time.
The air became heavy as if from smoke,
then suddenly, from the dream, I awoke.

In this dark World, the light you bring
Is happiness and love; It's everything.
The way you talk to people
Strangers and friend,
Sets the stage; where you'll
be at the end.
The end of life's journey,
Shortens every day.
Be thankful to those who helped
Along the way.

I water the plants, that are in our yard.
Watering is easy; pulling the hose is hard.
With my I Pod playing and the buds in my ear,
I listen to music and then I do hear,
Willie Nelson, a wailing, like only he can do
And his song brings my thoughts, directly to you.
This is an old, sentimental song for me.
My eyes start to moisten, I hate that they do
But the words being sung, remind me of you.

When you are young
there's little more
to say about those
days of yore when
we ran free
like the wind.
It mattered not
to you or I,
for the love we knew
happened in a flash
and was more of
puppy love, not to last.
Infatuation could be
a great surprise,
as emotions ran so high.
The only thing
happening was
finding a new love,
once again, as this
life's cycle, would repeat
as love or lust
was on our minds
passing us again,
one more time.

Stay away from me.
I heard someone shout.
You know nothing, you see
Or what I am about.
Leave me alone
Please let me be.

Well before the leaves turn brown,
Colors will be all around,
Turning shades of yellows and reds,
On their daily grasp of life.
When the brown is at its best,
The Fall winds come from the West,
Shaking limbs and branches readily
And brown leaves fall to the ground,
A sea of dryness, all in brown.

Why am I back awake?
It's 10 minutes past 2.
What in the world am I going to do?
I'm tired, I'm sleepy,
But I'll tell you this;
I'm a long ways away
From eternal bliss.
I worry about the slow demise
And pray that she will see
Another Sunrise.
The mental acuity that's in her head,
I am most certain is nearly dead.
There is little rational, connected thought
And childish pleasure when something was bought.
What can I say? Not much for sure,
I do know this, I must stay and endure.

When your ego is the best
and you worry not about the rest
but lie your way to what you seek
and the future, makes not a peek,
your life will be about what you sowed
and in time that debt, will be owed.
So prepare yourself, your not my friend.
I will rejoice when you meet your end.
Not a Christian thought, you say.
Sorry but those are the rules of today.

When I look into your eyes
and see your angelic face.
I see no recognition or surprise.
Going forward, as I surely must,
Place my faith in our God's trust.
A cure is an option, Not
For no medicine can be bought.