I wish

I wish that I had been born in the days of King Arthur. I think that I would have fitted in a lot better if that had been the case. But, as we cannot choose when we are born, I can only dream of such things.

If I had been born in those good years, I hope I would have been a princess or a Lady. I would have had a handsome knight for whom I cared more than anything and he would ride away on quests, brave and dashing, and I would wish him Godspeed. But he would always return home to me.

Maybe I would have learned to weave and to use a loom if I had lived then. It would have been so wonderful.

But now, I may only dream.

Beauty

Remembering the time of our youths,

once lost, now golden forever. Soft

like the rain that strokes the gentle land

in streams of love and gratitude.

Watching the wisps of powdererd age

grow weary and slow with wondering.

Searching eyes of mystery flow through

the memories of years to come, and wash the

stained horizon of our youths.

I think this is a beautiful poem. It was written by my sister, she is beautiful and very talented. I hope that one day I may live to be like her. Although, sometimes we have disagreements; there is nobody, other than God, that I would turn to before I turned to her.

We have shared so much together and we share the same memories, making us smile, laugh and cry.

Then

It has snowed a foot. Father says that it is just like when he was a boy and it was winter. And now, at last, the deep snow and happy laughter of children has returned to Leeds. Just like then, just like now.
It makes me feel like I am sharing a childhood memory that belongs to Father and he is re-living those times except for now I am in them. He looks very happy. Every time he looks outside a smile plays around his lips. "How deep is it there?" he asks me, naming all his old haunts, now mine. He loves to talk of his childhood to me and to see my interest and delight at the things he used to do.
I love my Father and I love sharing his memories re-lived.

Snowy

Snow is such an amazing thing. It is so beautiful, white and stainlessley pure. It always looks so soft, settled there on the cold, hard ground.
Snow always looks so soft and gentle that it takes great amounts of self control to prevent yourself from scooping it up into your hands. And when you do hold some of the oh-so-soft snow in your hands it is always a suprise when it bites you with it's chill. Somehow, we manage to convince ourselves that this particular snow is much prettier than the snow we held in the past and this snow won't bite us, it is far too pretty for that...

Alone

It is snowing very heavily and all the schools in leeds are closed. Except for my school. The buses are not running and we are all alone, in school. The curtains are closed on the pure, blinding whiteness outside. It is a different world to how it is in here. In school.
I shall have my lessons alone today for nobody else is here that i am in lessons with. It shall be very lonely.

Tiredness

It is odd, when you are tired your senses are dulled but your imagination goes wild! When I am tired I can write amazing stories and see things how I have never seen them before. I can go wherever I wish when I am tired and it becomes so very vivid and real that I cannot see or hear anything or anyone else even if they are standing directly beside me!
Last night I went to Camalot and I met King Arthur; we became very good friends. I witnessed one of the adventures of his knight Sir Gawain, the adventure of the Green Giant. It is a fascinating legend and I do love to hear it.
I love all my adventures and the places I go to when I am tired. But most of all I love all the friends I make on my adventures, they are always loyal and true.

Stars

Last night I slept in the loft on the old double mattress. I love it up there. I can just lie on the mattress, gazing out of the skylight at the stars and the moon, so mysterious, so far away. If I squint a little I can almost imagine that I am up there, with the heavenly bodies.
But last night I could see only clouds out of the skylight, blanketing the sky, and I felt lonely.
Then I realised that I could still see the light from the moon and stars and I knew that they were still up there, flinging out their beautiful, white light; and I didn't feel so alone anymore because I knew that they were waiting for me to fall asleep and join them in their winter ball in the sky...

Snow

It is, once again, snowing outside. I love to watch the snow and try to make out the seperate and tiny, yet perfectly formed, snowflakes. If you gaze at them long enough you can almost imagine them to be thousands of white fairies, flying across the sky together.

I wonder to myself where they might be going, perhaps to visit relations or maybe they are all flying home after christmas with their families.

But I prefer to think that they are all just so unbelievably happy that they all have to go outside and dance together joyfully. Sometimes, when you are unbelievably happy, it is impossible to hide the fact or yourself at all.

I expect this is how the fairies feel when they look outside and see God's beautiful creation, and that is why they dance.

Welcome

Welcome to my blog and Happy New Year!
I am going to use this blog to write down my feelings and deep thoughts and questions that I need someone to tell them to. Thank you for reading them...