The candle burns down
to the stub, flickers and dies.
Her bright life snuffed out.



In memory of my wonderful, fun-loving sister-in-law who died at the weekend.


Life and Death

A few weeks back I wrote a short poem about the pigeons nesting in my cherry tree (Late Brood). They are still there. The leaves have not yet turned autumnal although some have fallen and the tree is thinning out.

A few days ago I found a dead chick, just beginning to show signs of fledging, on the ground underneath the nest site. The mother pigeon was still sitting so I assumed there was at least one and possible more up there though I heard no sign and saw no sight of them. Still she sat, a good mother if not a good nest builder!

Over the last few days we have noticed some movement in the nest, which I can see from my kitchen window. I got out the binoculars to have a better look but the view was blocked by the parent bird. Today, however, I saw her feeding a quite substantially sized chick, looking reasonably well fledged and almost ready to go, big enough that Mum was confined to the edge of the nest.

Now the question is did the dead chick on the ground simply fall to its death? The nest is flimsy and not very protective after all. Alternatively did it die in the nest of ‘natural’ causes and was ejected, or was it pushed out by its bigger sibling?

I guess I’ll never know and I’m still left wondering if the surviving chick will grow on well enough to make it through the winter. Nature can be so cruel.

On Hold

Life on hold;
time to take stock,
consider priorities,
find inner resources.


Daughter home at last,
taking each day as it comes.
Life for now unsettled,
just like the weather!


Slow, so slow the snow retreats,
melting away, and underneath,
from icy death once more released
spring flowers, emerging unsuppressed,
exultant, burst to life.


Waiting for news
that doesn’t come.
Around me life goes on.

Earth Mother

and death
are her domain,
the great Earth Mother

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This Elfje was inspired by a TV programme last night: ‘Divine Women: When God Was a Girl.’
It also appears today at Simply Elfje.

The Unknown Sharing

Undrawn curtain, blaze of light,
A stolen glimpse of a private life.
A friendly glow from a cosy room
Smiled on a stranger in the gloom.

Jack Williamson

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Another gem from my late uncle taken from “Collecting Cobwebs, Gathering Brambles”. I bet he didn’t know he was writing “Small Stones”!

Sailing Quote 5

“The sail, the play of its pulse so like our own lives: so thin and yet so full of life, so noiseless when it labours hardest, so noisy and impatient when least effective.”

Henry David Thoreau, author and philosopher

Peacock Butterfly

Such a shame to see
a creature of such beauty
lying lifeless on my patio.
A brief life snuffed out
like a candle flame.

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What is the matter with Blogspot? – for two days now I have been unable to leave comments and I have seen some wonderful stones that I would love to comment on.

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