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Sue Burley
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...... Whilst we are lingering at the start of May waiting for warm summer days, here is a poem I wrote in Croyde, North Devon.  The surfy sea, the dunes and the beautiful, bracing cliff walks - all ingrained in my memory. It transports me back to family ho...

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A Spring Garden Impatient for summer her bare toes curl, settle into soft moss; she savours sweet violets, but dreams of lilac. Catching her eye a pale brimstone lemon yellow, sails on waves of air. Snow blossom unlocks a fragrance with the promise of summe...

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My grandchildren have updated the Christmas 2016 Mural, to become the "EASTER Day Mural"  or the Murial as we call it!!

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 A
Spring Garden Impatient
for summer her
bare toes curl, settle  into
soft moss; she savours sweet
violets, but dreams of lilac. Catching
her eye a pale brimstone              lemon
yellow, sails on waves of air. Snowy
blossom unlocks a fragrance w...

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A Spring Garden Impatient for summer her bare toes curl, settle into soft moss; she savours sweet violets, but dreams of lilac. Catching her eye a pale brimstone lemon yellow, sails on waves of air. Snowy blossom unlocks a fragrance with the promise of summ...

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Before Christmas, I encouraged two of my grandchildren to paint a Nativity scene on the hall wall. This is what they came up with................       I've not regretted it, as it turned out to be a great project.  And sometime in the Spring, the hall and...

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I found this gem while reading the daily paper. . . . . . . . . At present my life is a bit upside down, and this struck a chord and made me think: It is a parable as told to a child by his grandfather. Grandfather: There are two wolves inside us who are al...

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Summer's End There
is the sun, pale but slowly lifting through
smoky shreds of tangled cloud, and
overhead the moon becalmed and fading. Such
tender days give no sign of easing, though
captive leaves sigh for the clench of frost and
fumbling bees are somnol...

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Summer's End There
is the sun, pale but slowly lifting through
smoky shreds of tangled cloud, and
overhead the moon becalmed and fading. Such
tender days give no sign of easing, though
captive leaves sigh for the clench of frost and
fumbling bees are somnol...

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  Globe thistles and Marguerites -                      the glory of our summer garden.............  
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