Be The Best

My Mum loved poems and seemed to have a great memory for the lines. Much better than me! She used to encourage me with the words “if you can’t be a tree, be the best little bush” or something like that. I decided today to search for the words and found it online in no time. It must be better known than I thought. Here it is:

BE THE BEST

It you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,

Be a scrub in the valley – but be

The best little scrub by the side of the hill;

Be a bush, if you can’t be a tree.

If you can’t be a bush, be a bit of the grass,

And some highway happier make;

If you can’t be a muskie, then just be a bass-

But the liveliest bass in the lake!

We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,

There’s something for all of us here.

There’s big work to do and there’s lesser to do

And the task we must do is the near.

If you can’t be a highway, then just be a trail,

If you can’t be the sun, be a star;

It isn’t by size that you win or you fail-

Be the best of whatever you are!

Douglas Malloch

http://www.english-for-students.com/be-the-best.html

It brings back fond memories of my Mum who passed away nearly 15 years ago. I often think of her.

A SPECIAL GIFT

The pretty blue fairy wrens had nothing to do

When one of them spotted a pretty blue stone

One said “I will fly close and inspect it for you”

He soon called out for help to carry it home.

Just at that moment very close by, a little girl is born

She is very sick and might not live

Her parents are indeed quite forlorn

The fairy wrens decide they have something important to give.

They magically carry the precious blue stone to the babe

And cleverly hide it in her tiny navel

They disappear quickly into a nearby cave

And wait for news via twitter or cable.

The little girl is now better and going home to stay

Her lovely eyes are becoming a pretty shade of blue

The tiny blue stone glows within her each and every day

As she gets older the wrens decide to give her a clue.

She learns that the little blue stone

Is full of love, wisdom, truth, beauty and kindness

It is always there to help her when she feels so alone

It frequently helps her out of a mess.

Inside she becomes beautiful, wise, honest, loving and kind

But others don’t seem to know about her little blue stone

She wants to tell them, if they look carefully, they too will find

There is a special gift inside each of us waiting to lovingly bring us home.

NB. Looking back through my old writing files and came across this one I thought I would share.

Magpie

Daddy Magpie

It is a blissful day to fly

The sun shines on my wings – the shiny black feathers and the gleaming white

I am proud of who I am!

I hear movement in the house beyond -the human is out and about

I know I am safe – we have history

She feeds my youngest who squeaks all day

I trust her – she’s okay

She looks at me and I at her

I wonder why she doesn’t fly

She walks about the yard

Without any attempt – she doesn’t even try!

Day 15 Creativity Challenge

For more information about my Challenge click HERE

Task – Your Favourite Poem

I first came across this poem in the early 1980’s when I started an Art’s course. I still enjoy it today.

To His Coy Mistress

Andrew Marvell – 1621-1678

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast;
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart;
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
   But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
 Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

This poem is in the public domain.

Andrew Marvell
Andrew Marvell

On Gratitude

I am doing a short course titled “Poetry Writing for Fun” through my local U3A. This week we were asked to write something using personification and repetition. Here is my attempt:

I am Gratitude

I gave her the ocean –

She wants bigger waves.

I gave her good health –

She says she’s bored.

I gave her friends –

She asks for more.

I gave her love –

She seeks perfection.

I gave her peace and quiet –

She longs for the City lights.

If only she would know me –

She would have it all.

gratitude

The mind journey to work …

I am startled awake by the alarm
I get up and methodically eat and get ready for work
I don’t want to go – not really – don’t feel up to it.
I must go – just deal with getting to work
Then deal with getting started
Drive to my next location – notice the colours of the cars
Be in the moment
Be friendly and do what I have to do
Remember that life is about love – be loving – be friendly
Pretend to be confident – no-one will know I am pretending
Enjoy the sunshine – relax into it
Drive to the next location
Try and do a good job – be loving
It gets easier as the day progresses
Healed by the warm sunshine and warm smiles
Do what I need to do – be kind
I am grateful for a good day.

Passionfruit flower PS

Once upon a skink :-)

A skink is not a skunk
No matter what you think
Not even if you are truly drunk
A skink is a skink as sure as ink is ink!

Now a skunk is altogether different
And never to be found Down-Under
Skinks love my home, it is apparent
How many live here – I wonder?

Skinky One is drinking out the back
Another sighted in the front this morning
Reptilian friends – we have no lack
You can be sure life is never boring!

A Special Gift

fairy wren

A SPECIAL GIFT

The pretty blue fairy wrens had nothing to do
When one of them spotted a pretty blue stone
One said “I will fly close and inspect it for you”
He soon called out for help to carry it home.

Just at that moment and very close by, a little girl is born
She is very sick and might not live
Her parents are indeed quite forlorn
The fairy wrens decide they have something important to give.

They magically carry the precious blue stone to the babe
And cleverly hide it in her tiny navel
They disappear quickly into a nearby cave
And wait for news via twitter or cable.

The little girl is now better and going home to stay
Her lovely eyes are becoming a pretty shade of blue
The tiny blue stone glows within her each and every day
As she gets older the wrens decide to give her a clue.

She learns that the little blue stone
Is full of love, wisdom, truth, beauty and kindness
It is always there to help her when she feels so alone
It frequently helps her out of a mess.

Inside she becomes beautiful, wise, honest, loving and kind
But others don’t seem to know about her little blue stone
She wants to tell them, if they look carefully, they too will find
There is a special gift inside each of us waiting to lovingly bring us home.

My favourite poem for this week

When I set myself the task of finding a poem to post this week I had no idea how difficult it might be. Most of the poetry I found (and liked) was about death, grief and broken hearts and I didn’t want to go there. I am also a little nervous about posting poems that are subject to copyright. I think the one I have found overcomes these obstacles. It is called:

DREAM

Last night while I sat watching

There came a dream so fair

A television drama packed

With all its usual flair

The Thane of Fife had a carving knive

And a damned spot plagued the Queen

While the virtues of Palmolive Soap

Were lauded in between

Then Lancelot mused a little space

And Shylock rocked with glee

‘ A pound of that poor merchant’s flesh

Will fare me well for tea’.

The fate of kings and clowns and queens

Is often cruel and crude

As Joan of Ark was heard remark

When she was barbecued.

But on with the dance, here’s Hungry Jack

And a dozen females squeal and quack

The virtues of a tasty snack.

If life is dull and you are bored

See Westpac; splash out; buy a Ford!

A notation says it comes from a poem by Jim Jones called Sixty Minutes and brought up to date by an anonymous would-be poet.

little stars

 

Three poems by Edward Lear (1812-1888)

I hope you enjoy these three little poems as much as I did :-).

Ferguson Valley 034 (Copy)

There Was an Old Man with a Beard

There was an old man with a beard,

Who said, “It is just as I feared!-

Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren,

Have all built their nest in my beard!

There was an Old Man in a Tree

There was an old man in a tree,

Who was horribly bored by a Bee;

When they said, “Does it buzz? He replied, “Yes it does!”

“It’s a regular brute of a Bee!

There was an Old Man Who Supposed

There was an old man who supposed,

That the street door was partially closed;

But some very large rats, ate his coats and his hats,

While that futile old gentleman dozed.

 

From the Norton Anthology of Poetry – Third Edition (W W Norton & Company, New York & London)