I built a home

in honour of those who have…

I achieved where many others failed –
I’m satisfied though many others aren’t.

My path told me to walk the path I could
And led me away from the path I can’t.

And sacrifice instructed me to stay
As loss, oh loss, would lead me to succeed.

Certainty would meet me along the way –
My flower’s blooming from my garden’s seed.

From the camping ground to caravan,
From the beach-head to the sea, I’ve been
Taken on a path; my very own.

From the safety of a nucleus
To a nucleus of mine – come walk
With me on my path – I’ve built a home.

(a snippet from an as yet unpublished poem, ‘I built a home’.

Home alive

Passion breeds poetry – what follows is a section of a piece written recently about an experience of mine a few years back and the people that gave me my second chance…

 

Hospitals have lost their welcome mat, and

Are quick to change the patient in their bed.

When I have stayed I’ve tried so hard to walk

Back out the door. But they’ve told me; “wait, you’ll

Be needing surgery, instead.”

 

But what must it have been like for those I left at home?

Parental sacrifice means you put your loved ones first.

A sense of loving others before you love yourself

Is the essence of belief in what I call

‘The family stone’.

 

My scar is a reminder of my second chance to thrive.

Thank goodness it’s been given by those who

Love me as I am. They’re the ones that hold me,

That mould me into me. They’re the ones

That got me home, alive.