When you reach your limit Hold on Breathe deep Can youListen to the stillnessWhen all around is loudStand firmThough your heart wantsTo runDiscern when in strife You see no reason?Breathe deepFocus And move on.
Author Archives: ruthpartridge
‘Each of us carries the map of our lives on our skin in the way that we walk even in the way that we grow.’ Kiran Millwood Hargrave author of the Girl of Ink and Stars Great book read to year 6 every year.
In the garden today
It was fantastic to see this on moth today. Commonly, it is found only in the South of the country on sand dunes and heathland. Vipers buglos is a British native plant of coastal sand dunes. We collected seed down at Slapton Sands some years ago and it thrives on gravel and light sandy soilContinue reading “In the garden today”
Sunday Morning
When the mist languishes down the pane in rivulets of tears, speckling the glass in glistening bubble chains; and the pendulous trees nod and bow in random motion against roar of the wind ;the spume of cloud moves across the sky in an unfurled carpet Of grey; and the moorland ridge is seemingly pellucid andContinue reading “Sunday Morning”
No such thing as bad weather
‘There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes’. A local saying and so true. Just back from a lovely walk across fields along a flat ridge. No view as such but the sun not far from view despite the rain intensifying by the minute. Shrouded whiteLike ships in full sailGalleons adriftTrees movingContinue reading “No such thing as bad weather”
Haiku – Scandi-style
Memories to keepBeautiful script from the heartSimplicity shines
The Keepers
Think of these as keepers,Closed ranksOn hidden secretsForm connotations of mystic meaningThreaded through time. The world withoutDark mystery withinWaiting;Questions surround;Clear purpose inside.What covert unionMaintains the recumbent secretUnscripted in ancient rocksFrom Welsh Pressili hills?Behemothic bluestoneHewn a hundred miles awayWith Neolithic tools-Rome wasn’t built in a day Or Pyramids by the Nile;Which age considered primitive?The stones won’tContinue reading “The Keepers”
Cairn
Sculptural artOr pile of rocksThe view aloft on mountain tops;To one just a ragged moundAnother a safety line is found;When lost in mist the drop is sparedBy the site of stones ahead impaired.One time with friendWe’d set off clearIntentions sharp, maps set No fear;We reached the ridge in record time And onward to the peakContinue reading “Cairn”
THEY ONLY KNOW MY NAME
THEY ONLY KNOW MY NAME My face is seen through eyes that do not see, Opinions or judgment, anger, or jealousy. They form their own truth, they make … THEY ONLY KNOW MY NAME This is by Keith Garrett poetry – so insightful
Anchors
An anchor holdsFast In a storm With strength imbued Taught and firm In calm Released The boat will drift What anchors us when things get hard?Or do we come adrift?
Ruth Partridge 