Other: beauty_and_tears_of_Tibet Group on Care2

Other: beauty_and_tears_of_Tibet Group on Care2

Garden Poems

Garden Poems


Simple Pleasures

Clothes drying on the rope.
What simple fools are we
to be so happy to smell the freshness from sun and breeze?
Contentment is easily come by if such as these
can lighten our short lease
in this tragic world.

Sue Hemmings 21st May 2008.

Spring Haikus

what a multitude
of green I see from below
a roof of clear blue.

cat scratching her head
against the wooden clothes pole
content she slinks off

Try this one

The Hypocrite

He was a dour man
tenacious in his hard way
his beliefs alone should hold sway
all others he would ban,
one day he fell from grace,
no one saw a trace
nobody noticed a thing
but he,
he pursued his own soul
to the depths of hell
felt the chill of death take hold
hated the soul that he had sold
could not look at his own face
crucified himself upon a bitter tree
could not bear to see
a shadow of himself
shattered glass
did not care what came to pass
he ran and ran
round and round;
not moving,
he screamed and wailed
no sound;
sailed through troughs rode crests
on stormy seas
but still he could not rest:

he hid all this well
from prying eyes
continuing to patronise
to sleek his hair and charm
to brush his clothes and smarm
to wag a warning finger at those who slipped and fell
into his own everlasting, unremitting hell.

Sue Hemmings March 2006

A Stranger Passing Through

A Stranger Passing Through

I am the stranger passing through
I see into your dreams, your hopes and fears,
those innermost wishes and the schemes,
I see them, every last
from the present, future, past.
There is no escape, sometimes it seems
the world’s secrets are inside me
swirling around for no one else to see,
but I will tell no other soul.
For then I will lose my power over all
so have no fear, you will not fall
into shame,
only I will know your name.
I will keep your mysteries,
your life’s history.
Each little thing that is shown to me
just remember, I will recall eternally.
© Sue Hemmings November 2007

Culross Old School Yard

Culross Old Schoolyard

I sit in the silence; broken only
by the trickle of water from the fountain,
sound of bird song,
there is no true stillness.
Kissed by sunlight and warmth
azure sky above.
Peace after the funeral:
serenity in my spirit;
for what seems the first time
for so long.
I smell the sea;
the fragrance of freshly cut grass,
taste of salt on my lips.
This is surely paradise.


This is a poem I wrote last year after a visit to Culross in Fife, Scotland
I live in Balloch Loch Lomond