An hour of toil in the garden,
Is always time well-spent
Tugging out those stubborn old weeds,
Which year upon year won't relent.
An hour spent tending the garden,
Is never wasted time,
Lungs full of wonderful sweet, Spring air,
Hands caked in dirt and grime.
It's hard to feel glum in the garden,
With birds chirping high in the trees,
Potting up Pansies, so cheery and bright,
Hair tugged about by the breeze.
Cutting the deadwood, turning the earth,
Allowing the sun to shine through,
Seems to clear my cluttered mind,
And lifts my spirits too.
Thank you dear Lord for my garden,
Humble and small though it be,
It's a place where so often I've felt You are near,
And Your joy surrounding me.
Once You knelt down in a garden,
And in terrible anguish You cried,
"Thy will, not Mine, be done O Lord!"
Abandoned. Betrayed. Denied.
One Sunday morn, in a garden,
You rose up again from the grave,
Bringing salvation and mercy and grace,
To the ones You came to save!
Dear Weather Depot I’m writing to say, It seems you’ve forgotten, It's just two weeks 'til May. I’m not one for complaining, But I’m wondering why All this rain keeps on raining, And grey clouds fill the sky? I’m still wearing a hat, And my gloves and my coat, This is not satisfactory, (Hence my slightly brusque note!) Did Spring lose its zing? Has it really begun? Is it lost in the post? Has its spring-thing not sprung? And I do beg your pardon, But I haven’t yet sat, On the bench in my garden, (I’ve looked forward to that) So please could you check, In your weather-book thingy, And please make this spring Just a little more ‘springy!’
A few days ago, my family and I visited Dove Cottage, the home of William Wordsworth, one of England’s best-loved Romantic Poets.
Dove Cottage, Grasmere.
Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy, moved into the cottage, situated just outside the lovely village of Grasmere when he was 29 years old. This was a dream fulfilled for the poet, after losing both of his parents by the age of 13, and being separated from his beloved sister during a period of his youth. At last, he and Dorothy were home again.
Plain Living & High Thinking
The Wordsworth’s lived a relatively simple life, cultivated a garden and drank in the detail of the flower and fauna all around them. Their motto was ‘plain living and high thinking.’
The Hillside Garden behind the Cottage
William and Dorothy immersed themselves in the beauty of their surroundings and William devoted his time and energy to writing poems, many of which capture vivid descriptions of childhood moments or the natural beauty he observed around him.
Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher
W.W
Spots of Time
Ice-Skating!
One of our favourite discoveries at the museum was a poem about an exhilarating childhood memory of William’s, where a few days before Christmas, he went ice-skating on Esthwaite Water, near the village of Hawkshead, where he went to school.
Inspired by Nature
Grasmere sits in the midst of the Lake District National Park, Cumbria, an area rich in rugged fells, deep valleys, shimmering lakes, bubbling rivers running under stone bridges, a wild coast-line and an abundance of breathtaking scenery.
Many of William’s poems are about specific places, sights and experiences in around the Lake District, including ‘Storm on Coniston Water’, which is photographed below, and ‘A Summer Day at Windermere’, (second photo below).
The incredibly serene Lake ConistonLake Windermere – England’s largest freshwater Lake, is over 10.5 miles long.It seemed somehow apt that we should spot a robin, lingering on the gate-post of the Wordsworth Cottage
Dorothy’s Journals
Dorothy, like her brother, had a deep love of nature and kept a journal which documents the happy time they spent at Dove Cottage. Many of her diary entries connect with poems written by her brother, such as this extract about a swathe of wild daffodils.
It’s easy to get a sense when walking around the cottage, the garden and the village of Grasmere of the way William and Dorothy would have walked and talked together, marveling over the beauty all around them, and eagerly comparing notes on their observations,
It was delightful to walk into Grasmere and know that William and Dorothy had trodden those very streets, gazed at the same ancient hills, and attended the old church, where we discovered their humble gravestones a short walk away! It was an incredibly moving and inspiring experience!
St Oswald’s Church, in Grasmere.The graves of William, his wife Mary & sister Dorothy, discovered in the churchyard
To Live and Do Good
It was wonderful also to note Wordsworth’s desire to write words that ‘live and do good’ – and to feel that connection with his ideals as a writer. I came away hugely moved to think that a poet who lived and wrote over 200 years ago carried the same lasting values in his heart as I do, and longed to use his words to spread joy, consolation and goodness to those around him.
If you are interested in reading more of William Wordsworth’s wonderful poetry and finding out more about the spectacular Lake District, I wholeheartedly recommend purchasing a copy of this beautiful illustrated collection, entitled: “The Golden Store.’ which I purchased at the Museum’s bookshop. It is a keepsake that I will always treasure, and enjoy dipping into again and again.
It’s been a dreadfully slow year in terms of my writing progress! Lots of reasons really. For starters, I’ve been extra busy with my day job, (which has left me a bit deplete of time and energy) plus, one of the recent projects I’ve been involved with has been put on hold, for reasons out of my control.
BUT!
POETRY!
The one thing that I’ve managed to keep doing is penning the odd poem here and there!
I find poems so refreshing to write, as they are fun and playful, sometimes wistful or meaningful – and they often just spring from spontaneous thoughts.
The Social Media platform formerly known as Twitter, has a superb poetry community – and it was here that I first learned about a wonderful new literary journal for children, called www.thetoypress.com . Do check it out – it is seriously lovely!
When I found out that submissions were open for their fourth edition, which was going to be all about nature – I jumped at the chance. I LOVE writing about God’s wonderful world, and the amazing things that are all around us, as long as we remember to just slow down and look!
I was thrilled to discover, one Monday afternoon, that two of my poems had been accepted for publication and it was a joy to receive my Contributor’s Copy over the weekend. I was also delighted to have one of my poems paired with a gorgeous illustration by Leila Enevoldsen. As an aspiring Picture Book writer, this is such a treat! I’ve always longed to have something I’ve written illustrated.
Anyway…here’s a little sneak peek! I really hope you enjoy it.
Thank you so much for visiting this blog and supporting me on my writing journey- I really do appreciate each and every reader!
There once was a sweet, little Kitty,
Who would sit around looking so pretty,
But this act was a lie,
He was really a Spy,
No, you should not believe cats one bitty!
There once was an unlucky baker,
Who forgot to put flour in her cake-ah!
"What a mess!" came her cries,
When that cake did not rise,
"Oh this cake is a big old mistake-a!"
There once was a dog who did run,
Through a sludgy, wet puddle for fun,
But she soon ceased to laugh,
When her dad shouted: "Bath!"
Now her fun was all over and done!
As an Early Years Practitioner, there are a few classic Picture Books that never fail to enthrall and delight the children I look after.
These stories are often about very ordinary things, (a little girl and her mummy having tea at the dinner table) coupled with an added twist, such as a tiger knocking on the door and inviting himself in…
One such story is Michael Rosen and Helen Obxenbury’s ‘We’re Going on a Bear Hunt’ – the story of a simple family stroll, on a beautiful day.
The twist is, that as the children are walking along, they pretend that they are off to find a Bear! They’re going on a Bear Hunt. They’re going to catch a BIG one!
As their walk continues, they meet LOTS of different obstacles along the way, such as:
A deep, cold river
Thick, oozy mud
and a swirling, whirling snowstorm
Because everybody knows, that every good story must contain OBSTACLES!
And anyone that has read the story will remember the repeated refrain:
We can't go over it.
We can't go under it.
Oh no! We've got to go through it!
It struck me this morning, as I was reading the story for the gazillionth time, that a writer’s journey is very much like this…
As we attempt to write our stories, to dream up vivid characters, to create a solid story arc, to nail the perfect ending, to hook our reader from the very beginning – we come against MANY obstacles along the way.
It can be so hard to keep going when we feel stuck in the thick oozy mud, lost in a whirling snowstorm and totally unable to cross the deep cold river (or face editing that manuscript!)
We journey on, through the ups and downs. We finish our stories. We do our best to query agents, to enter competitions, to send our stories out there.. only to be faced with knock-backs, closed doors and rejection letters. It can feel like an endless journey fraught with obstacle after obstacle, set-back after set-back.
But something within us keeps us going… The sense of adventure keeps calling us onward. The beauty of the journey – the high-point of connecting with one reader – helps us get back up again. The thought that the journey is leading us ‘to catch a big one’ – keeps us pressing on…
The thought that we are doing all we can to use our gift for the glory of God, makes it all worthwhile.
And we know instinctively that there are absolutely no shortcuts. There are no easy routes through. We know, along with all other writers, that:
We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it!
So, at the start of 2022, let’s keep pressing forward. Let’s seize the day. Let’s pull our coats ever tighter around us and brace the wind, the rain, the snow! Let’s say together: “We’re not scared!” and enjoy this beautiful day, this beautiful opportunity that we’ve been given! Let’s enjoy the journey! You never know, we might even discover a bear at the end of it!
This is a picture of me pulling my ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ face. I’ve been practicing this face a lot lately. Why?
Because this face gets me out of whole heaps of trouble. Yep. I might be little, but I am BIG trouble! Trouble with a capital ‘T’!
Take the other day for instance. Mum was minding her own business, doing some gardening. I really wanted to help. So I decided to dead-head a few of her favourite flowers. I snapped off a whole head of Hydrangea, and shredded up her prize Sedums.
Next I tried to help with the washing….Mum put the washing in the machine – and I dragged it out again and just sat on it.
What a good and helpful little doggie I am!
And of course, when Emily plays with the sand, I have to play too! Only I like to get right inside the sand-pit. Oooh, that sandy stuff really tickles my snozzle and makes me sneeze! Mum just loves my paw-prints all over her clean floor!
And I just can’t help it – I really love to chew things. Toys, shoes – anything I can get my teeth on. What’s so wrong with that?
It’s a good job I’m such a cutie pie, don’t you think? But just to be on the safe side, I think I’d better keep practicing that face!
Here’s a little snippet from a Picture Book series I’m currently working on. Can you tell who inspired it?
Once, there were ten tumbling, bumbling, honey-coloured puppies, who needed a forever home. None of the puppies yet had names. Instead, they each wore a different coloured collar, so that people could tell which one of them was which.
At first they were small and snuggly and cosy and dozy. But every day, they grew!
They wobbled and wiggled.
They toppled and tumbled.
They nuzzled and nibbled.
Until soon, they were big enough to chase and race around the garden.
One day, a nice family came to adopt a puppy of their very own. All of the puppies were unique and special so it was very difficult to choose.
Some were big.
Some were small.
Some were sleepy.
One was sassy!
But the pup with yellow collar was funny, licky, snuggly and sweet….
Angela Jelf 