Life is good! Life is inspirational!


A friend just posted about the perils of long legs and insufficient room on buses using the phrase “long prongs”.  That got me thinking about how many ways we have developed for saying the same thing especially as our family do “long legs” big time!  

Long prongs
Ham and eggs
Sexy gams
Mystic megs
Great stems
Scotch pegs
Nice pins
Leggy legs!

Apologies but the draft of this was uploaded and not the final thing!

He hides in binary bushes
Lingers in highway hedge
He stalks his prey with full intent
To push her off the edge
And thinks not of consequences
Fails to appreciate
That if he’s caught he’ll pounce no more
And will be far too late
To catch his steal; for he can’t win
However much he tries
For in the end the truth will out
And reveal how he lies
Leaving his cyber footprint
So desperate and empty
Tom cat beholden to his web
As mouse escapes quite free


Just Because

Is life but a transaction
A tit for tat
A deal shaken in blood, sweat, toil and tears
Is it a mere economy
Trading one deed for another
A business arrangement
Limited to a series of management decisions
Or is there more?
The unconditional?
The altruistic
Dressed in love
Wrapped in kindness
Laced in compassion
Without bill; invoice; receipt
Where simple humanity
Reaches out
Just because ….

Mr Redbreast

Little Robin Red Breast
Sitting in a tree
With black diamonds for his eyes
Peeking out at you and me
Thinking soon it will be Christmas
The season he gets fame
Yet no-one ever stops to think
And ask of his real name

For in fact he’s not called Robin
But to be honest prefers best
The name of Jim or Tom or Rob
Or just Mr Redbreast
Anything bar Robin
He flutters and he tweets
For Lord or Earl, Sir or Count
Would really be quite neat

And so as yuletide happens
And bright red chested bird
Frequents your cards and trinkets please
Doff cap as is preferred
And nod to Mr Redbreast
Be him called Rob or Jim
Or Tom or Ray or Bill or Ben
And raise your glass to him



© Francis C. Franklin / CC-BY-SA-3.0 [CC BY-SA 3.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons

Bleeding World

There aren’t enough tears to be cried
Nor near enough droplets of rain
Not enough lakes, oceans and seas
To wash away all of this pain

For the world has a gash to her heart
A chasm of untold deep grief
A bleed that cannot be stopped
Where mere words won’t bring any relief

For as long as disunion exists
Persecution and terror abides
As long as guns blast away peace
The split will open wider; divide

And there won’t be concord til the day
Humanity joins together as one
Where judgement is counselled by truth
And love in each other runs strong

Where the light of freedom shines so bright
And filters deep into the core
Where unity will triumph and bring
Harmony in place of all war

Cordon of Humanity

When all that is left
Are small candles flickering
Holding out against the storm
And battling the tides of destruction
Then let a cordon of humanity
Bound in grief
Conjoined in compassion
United in empathy
Bring hope where there is despair
And love where there is hatred
So that the flames will reignite
Shattering the darkness
With life-giving light

solution focussed

Look what you’ve done….


I don’t often reblog stories but maybe I should start. This is a truly inspiring story and no more so than it demonstrates people power – the capacity of another human to instil worth and belief in another who has been knocked. So many will recognise this in one form or another.

As for me I can verify just how amazing supportive folk are after over five years now of dealing with PoTS, autonomic dysfunction and latterly episodes of AF plus the recent onset of arthritis. To those reading this who know someone who battle with their health and well being or disabilities daily, please take note. We can all make a positive difference in other people’s lives. The question is will you chose to do so? Thanks Sue for this wonderful post.

Originally posted on Daily Echo:

I walked in, having finished the morning’s work before I would normally have left the house. It is almost like having a day off. The dog looked at me reproachfully from under the sofa cushions… at least until I picked up the leash. She hadn’t been happy about my early morning sortie without her, long before the hour when she would normally have been up and about. Ever hopeful, she had still managed to dump the tennis ball at my feet. I had looked reproachfully too… at the alarm clock. Three in the morning is no time for the damned thing to start shrieking that I needed to be up for work. I wasn’t alone though and it wasn’t all that long before the half-expected text came through, checking I was up and would be there on time.

The roads were clear. Few are out at that time of day…

View original 507 more words


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