Colourful tapestries of memories!

“Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.”
― William Martin

I absolutely love this poem!! We live in this crazy whirlwind concrete jungle, where it's a dog eat dog world, it's so rare to find people who can find pleasure and joy in the little things in life, the seemingly ordinary things that often go overlooked. My favourite people in the world, are the one's who in some way resonate and believe in finding and celebrating the little moments in life. I believe it is these small moments, that weave themselves into colourful tapestries of memories that last a lifetime!

Here's to making the ordinary of come alive!

Wild hearts and laugh lines

We'd like to bounce off moonbeams right now.

Transcend into ethereal worlds,
Throw caution to the wind and go with  natures flow,
Spinning tales of the wonderful adventures to come,
Dip our feet in the pool of wonder,
Sit on the steps of possibility,
Love, live and laugh till our stomachs hurt,
With a glint in our eyes, the world is our wonderland,
We are the dreamers and the doers,
Wild hearts and free spirits,
Treading lightly and living fully.

This one's dedicated to all my fellow creative souls, who add a beautiful dash of crazy to my life!!

The timekeepers rainbow web

Ostrich feather-duster in hand, she delicately dusted the cobwebs in her mind.
Rainbows caught in webs woven over the years.
Some taut some giving way to to the erosion of time,
Each colour reflecting a shade of the past.
Memories delicately woven,

Some so fragile a whisper in the wind could destroy,
Waiting for a gust of wind or thunder storm to blow them into oblivion.

Star gazers and Rainbow catchers

This ones for all the fierce, free spirits who walk this Earth with a fire in their belly, untamed, wild and full of wonder. These are some of my favourite quotes by the brilliant R.M Drake

Gypsy heart women and windswept souls

A sketch to celebrate all the wild and wonderful women I know, the gypsy hearts, the free spirits, the fierce and inspiring women who have forever left their footprints on my soul!

Ode -Arthur O' Shaughnessy

We are the music makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;—

World-losers and world-forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems.

Inner child

A beautiful poem I chanced upon today. it's worth the read.

 I feel bad for those who lost their inner child. 

The world needs more adults with young heart, a brave heart, one that's excited and enthusiastic about the wonders of our magnificent world. 

People who believe in miracles, who believe they can make them happen too. 
People who can stomach the horrors they witness everyday and give love even when they are never the recipients. 
People who are kind enough to forgive everyone around them and forgive themselves too when it's the hardest to do so. People who are crazy enough to want to make a difference, even crazier to work for it.


-- Dana Hindi

A seasons change away

via GIPHY

I would watch you endlessly,
Let hours wilt away,
I long for you relentlessly,
You are but a lifetimes wait,
Like a flower in bloom on a warm summers day,
You come and go as the seasons change.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....

Chanced upon this today! Love it!!

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....

Enough money within her control to move out...
And rent a place of her own
even if she never wants to
or needs to...
Something perfect to wear if the employer
or date of her dreams wants to See Her in an hour...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
A youth she's content to leave behind....
A past juicy enough that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her Old Age....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .
A set of screwdrivers,
a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...
One friend who always makes her laugh...
And one Who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
A good piece of furniture not previously owned
by anyone else in her Family...
Eight matching plates,
wine glasses with stems,
And a recipe for a meal that will make
her guests feel Honored...
A feeling of control over her destiny...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
How to fall in love without losing herself..
HOW TO QUIT A JOB,
BREAK UP WITH A LOVER,
AND CONFRONT A FRIEND WITHOUT
RUINING THE FRIENDSHIP...
When to try harder...
And WHEN TO WALK AWAY...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
That she can't change the length of her calves,
The width of her hips,
or the nature of her parents..
That her childhood may not have been perfect...
But it's over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
What she would and wouldn't do for love or more...
How to live alone...
Even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
Whom she can trust,
Whom she can't,
And why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
Where to go...
Be it to her best friend's kitchen table...
Or a charming inn in the woods...
When her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
What she can and can't accomplish in a day...
A month...
And a year... ॐ

Written By: Maya Angelou ....

The cacophony

She was the hurricane that hit the shore,
A whirlwind of energy about to implode,
Lighting bolts and whirring winds,
Caught in a cacophony of what could have been.

Moonbeams and dancing feet

The moonlight lit up the dark alleys in her mind,

As she danced alone under it's watchful eye,
To songs she'd never heard,
The rustling wind and the babbling brook,
Clutching closely to her heart a new beat,
She finally found her feet.


Her body swayed as she came undone,
In her raven hair,
A thousand stars caught flashing by,
Glistening sweat trickling down her neck,
She finally found her feet,
It's only here she could really be free.

Sodium lights and street flowers

Darkness fell silently, a curtain call on the day done by, 

She walked down sodium lit streets with a wish on her lips, 

Lips that wouldn't move, thoughts that moved too quickly,

A dirty street, studded with little white flower stars.

Every once in a while you read something you've read years ago and it takes on a whole new meaning.This ones an excerpt from the book. "The Invitation" by Oriah Mountain Dreamer!Happy reading!

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesnt interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if have been opened
by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn't interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."


It doesn't interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.


It doesn't interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.


It doesn't interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.


I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

Across the seven seas

He docked his ship on my shores,
A passer by with hours to kill,
He told me of tales from lands far far away,
A knock on the door and I invited him in,
I watched as he washed his wounds in my home,
Shed his skin and sipped his drink,
Nursed my thoughts and rubbed my skin raw,
He left at daybreak,breaking more than he knew,
He broke down the walls for only himself to see,
Peeped inside and felt the space,
Held my hand and kissed my face,
With his leaving he took a part of my soul,
I stood there with broken bits in my palm,
Awaiting his return.

Another brilliant piece by Mia Hollow

Mid-summer butterflies

There's a crick in my neck,
From all the time spent craning over to see you,
A mid-summers night fire burns violently between you and me,
Blind spots make their way into the stuffy air,
You're too close and I'm too far away for you to see,
There are feisty butterflies in my stomach,
Holding back the words i'd like to say