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A Winters Walk.


Memories come back to me

With the passing of the time,

Walking now this winters day,

I hear the churchbells chime.

The winters sun shines down on me,

'Though the air is still and cool,

Peeking out behind the clouds..

Like some ostentatious jewel.

Soon the spring is on us,

My thoughts I cant convey -

But it's time for new beginnings,

It is time to seize the day.

And as I walk, my memories,

Accompany my soul,

Of when I passed this way before

On many a summers' stroll.

Of once, when I felt happy...

To view the summers rose,

the tended lawns so stunning

And the garden where it grows..

The gentle winds are blowing,

On a quiet winters morn,

All that's left of the summer rose..

Is a fast decaying thorn.

And now it has departed,

No more to give a thrill,

Killed off by winters climate

And an ever growing chill.

Life is like a winters walk,

A fact I cant deny -

The beauty of the summer, gone-

In the twinkling of an eye.


Copyright 2008 Sally Y Hemingway

Sally currently sends out beautiful
emails full of interesting thoughts, links,
photographs, articles and lovely animated
tags, among many other items she
comes across to introduce to her editions.
Her membership grew rapidly, and I
believe her mailing list is now full,
however, some editions of her "Wonderful Things"
newsletter can be found on her website,
the link for which is above.



A road winds through the valley,
Between hills of purple haze,
My heart is filled with yearning,
As I remember far off days.
Memories drift to greet me
As I travel the winding road,
Voices calling me from the past,
With tales of those times of old.
In Wales, the land of my birth,
I hear voices raised in song,
Bringing echoes down the ages
From the place where I belong.
A road winds through the valley,
It shines 'neath the soft moonlight.
The glow of the scene brings longing
To be home once more tonight.
Marian Jones 9/03
(thank you so much Marian)

Click here to visit Marian's beautiful site.




Stunned by her beauteous golden vein

Her open brazen face

I gaze across her great expanse

The wonders of His grace

This country steeped in desert heat

Where folk of every race may share

Her fragrant gums of ghostly hue

To shelter every blossom rare


As earth meets earth, great chasms leap

From mountain peak to driest creek

And parrots screech to call us home

As heart to heart we long to meet

To rest at night and gaze the skies

Where haze yet blinds to stars ablaze

Of God’s own hand that flung His light

The southern cross His sign to raise


Thus bold, her dawn-rich colour leaps

From ‘neath her dust we cry to clear

In prayer for rain to break her drought

To soak the earth and life appear

Through waves of wheat my heart will fly

With wild abandon it will come

The harvest ripe of blessing yet

Where God would have His praises rung.


For long I pray my country’s soul

Shall rise up from her sandy skirts

To lift their hearts in desperate need

For God to quench the raging thirst

Hold back this fearsome greedy gale

Where sounds the pound of hammering nail

As ocean tides draw wider yet

For God’s true Word to never fail.


Soft Aussie Whispers from

Derry’s Heart Poems 2006




~ Another beautiful poem from Marian ~


The Power of Thought



Send out caring thoughts,

On gentle, healing wings:

To reach around the world,

For thoughts are living things.


Send thoughts to those in sorrow;

Those in sickness and despair;

Like the ripples in a pond,

Thoughts spread everywhere.


Send thoughts of love and healing,

To each far distant shore,

And pray for all the nations

To be at peace once more.


From loving thoughts you send

Many miracles are wrought,

So never underestimate

The power of your thought.


Marian Jones – August 2004



 * SUMMER  *


The window of summer opens

The sun comes peeping in,

It works its magic on the land,

A new season to begin.


Beside a babbling brook

And a field of meadowsweet,

The gentle song of summer

Plays its rhythmic beat.


When the door of summer opens

All around are green clad trees,

While the perfume of the flowers

Is borne on a cooling breeze.


It is the season of delight,

The scent of new mown hay,

The glory of golden sunset

At the end of a perfect day.


Marian Jones

Click here to visit Marian's site.

"The Power of Thought"  Image done in Paint Shop Pro by Anne
"Summer" -  Colouring by Anne on Dover b&w sampler.