Archive for April, 2013

She may not smile so freely,

Though I think she’d like to do.

After all what would they think,

If they were to smile too.


They must not know her real age,

Or where she often plays,

Because she’s only eight years old,

What do you think they’d say?


When she climbs into the tree,

And searches for her dreams,

All her cares just wash away,

With everything she sees.


And when she finds some little words,

Suspended there to see,

It carries her so high inside,

The lovely Friendship Tree.


One day she will tell them all,

The secrets she finds there,

Cause one day they will realise,

One day they will care.


Until that time she will not say,

She will not speak a word,

Of the magic she has come to know,

And all that she has heard.


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As silence falls upon the land with shadows dark stretching far,
How can we comprehend all that this is and what it is to be?
Do we hold on so tight that we cannot breathe, suffocating,
Or do you give life to all you do, holding the candle burning bright?
Tis the burden that is questioned where friendship true abounds,
Yet we do not ask what is the reason or why we have been chosen?
By our own choice we will stand beside, not behind, nor in front,
Ready to fight the fight as one with our true friend standing strong.
Our hearts are true and our minds are clear so may the battle begin,
Darkness do your best but know this one thing for all of time to come.
When all is said and all is done we will remain, we will be the three,
Whilst all else lays shattered around, remnants of what was never to be.

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The lines that formed upon the ocean as the waves rolled in, with the white foam caps that move effortlessly forward, tell of the strength that lies hidden beneath the surface. A single soul paddles out, and then returns once more carried by the ripples as if carried by time itself. Today the sky was covered in clouds, heavy and foreboding, casting deep dark colors upon the ocean he loved, which, had he not known its true beauty, would have instilled a deep fear within himself.

The white haired boy reached, deep into the pockets of his long blue coat. His tiny hands fumbled as they searched frantically for the smallest remnants of magic that they once contained, yet all that now remained was emptiness. He looked out to sea once more, then as he prepared to launch the latest paper boat, he wondered how it may ever sail beyond those waves that are now like a barrier for all he had come to know. For the last days he had worked ever so hard to find the words that he needed, the gifts of life that he so longed to share, but now he risked watching them dashed upon the rocky shores before himself.

He bowed his head in contemplation and sadness, and then he looked to the sky and without uttering a word he spoke. Within his mind the questions spun like tiny ponies on a merry go round, almost so fast that the tiny candles each carried would be blown by the breeze, forever extinguishing all he had come to understand. He had to believe, there was no other choice, and without magic, belief was all he had. As he stood on the sandy shore, the waves gently lapped at his feet like the gentle flick of a puppies tongue upon his face. He waited for the right moment and he released the tightly folded paper shape with each fold playing a part in its being. It floated precariously at first, but then steadied and rocked back to him briefly, before being carried on the next outgoing current as if being pulled by an unseen hand.

He ran after it, at first in anticipation that it may topple and need his rescue otherwise it may sink, then as if encouraging it, willing it on, blowing gentle breezes from his lips followed by excited smiles. He had been so overcome by all that was happening that it was not until the last moment that he realized he was waste deep in the water, and as he stopped and watched the boat now safely sail, he stared into the crystal clear waters and smiled as two large winged creatures, like angels of the sea, swam past him as if guiding his gift of words and protecting them so they may complete their journey. He walked slowly backwards so as not to lose sight of the small white craft, then as it reached where the ripples broke upon the rocky surface hidden from view, he gave a little jump as though he was helping it climb over and beyond. Before long it had completed the most dangerous part of its journey and was just a speck upon the tiny ocean.

He turned his back now to the ocean, and as he did, the sun broke through the clouds with the warmth of its rays sending the tiniest shiver throughout his body. He turned for one last look at the now soft blue ocean, just in time to see a flash of white in the distance. He whispered some words of hope, then turned once more and walked slowly along the path that lay before him, with its tall sea grass swaying, dancing rhythmically to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Before long, those sounds had disappeared, only to be replaced by the sounds of the forest, with small birds readying their winter nests, in full glorious song, flitting here and there, twisting, turning as if dancing. It was autumn and the leaves had begun to turn, with their warm colors reminding him of his dearest friends. They littered the forest floor and crackled beneath his feet like the sound of crumpled paper, and then once more he thought about his boat and the fragility of the travel it now had taken. Around him the buzz of the dragonflies as they darted here and there with thier delicate wings glistening in the sunlight that filtered through the trees, and the gentle flutter of the ladybugs as they went from flower to flower with thier polished shells, was only broken by the vision of the beautifully colored butterflies as they drifted effortlessly on the wind, landing every now and then, to fan their wings like small hands clapping to the music of the forest.

In a short while he came upon a swing, suspended from the branch of a tall, wide tree. It was hanging from the branch by two ropes that were intertwined with a beautiful red climbing rose. Its wide timber plank with room for three was knotted worn as if telling the story of the life it once lived, like the wrinkles he had seen upon his own face when he was not a boy at all. He brushed his hand upon the surface feeling every line in the wood and as the leaves flipped and fluttered to the ground, he thought of his friendwhom he hoped to see soon, and her carefully folded butterflies which she would suspend from the branch above where she sat in the tree. He sat upon the swing and pushed himself to rock with his tiny feet, which he kicked before swaying his body so that he may climb higher and further with ever increasing gusto. He smiled widely as the wind blew through his long white hair, trailing like the flames of the candles he so protected as they flickered in the breeze. As he held tightly to the rope, he could feel the rose wrap around his fingers, holding him so he could not fall, and this made him think of the girl in the red dress that was looking after him with all she could, with all she knew how. Gradually the swing slowed to a stop, and he climbed down carefully contemplating all around him once more, ever so deep in thought. The Friendship Tree was his next stop and he now ran, arms flaying in excitement as if chasing the wind, kicking the leaves as he went sending them spinning and spiraling through the air like large confetti in a hurricane as he followed the winding path.

He reached the Tree, and as always his ears were pricked waiting for the distinctive sounds of his two friends. He looked deep into its branches so green, and before he could spy them, a smile formed from the soft giggling that came from within. “I know you are in there,” he yelled, and with that the giggling became more distinct. Yes, it was the two friends, and just then the bright blue eyes of the girl with her hair tied in pink bows peered through a gap in the leaves. “Shhhh, we’re hunting wabbits,” she whispered. He laughed and then the voice of his friend with the shiny red shoes and gleaming smile called out. “So you gonna climb up here and tell us a story?” He smiled then replied. “Only if you both promise to keep quiet whilst I tell it, and if you also promise not to fall asleep at the important parts.” They both giggled, and together they responded, “yes, we will.”

He climbed the Tree, and he sat next to the Book of Dreams. He looked at his two friends sitting side by side before him, and smiled as the light from the mobiles, which spun overhead, danced merrily on their faces. His friend with the pink bows in her hair was not well, but he knew that he must be strong. He hoped with all hope that the paper boat he had sent out earlier in the day would return from its journey soon and that the words he had written will have been read and understood. “So what story you going to tell today?” she asked as she tucked the hem of her red dress under her legs. He thought for a moment, then remembering that he had no magic to share, he suggested that he would give them a poem, there and then. Wide smiles filled their faces and they hugged closely, intent not to miss a word, because every single one was spoken with the deepest of meaning.


In my short life so full of wonder,

Full of all the gifts with eyes we see,

The many things we take for granted,

In everyday of the lives we lead.


I could never be so thankful,

For the chance to know who you both are,

A friendship like a dream come true,

A wish once made upon a star.


Within this tree we sit and share,

The joys and trials that come to pass,

The strength of three will carry one,

Without the need to ever ask.


Like true friends are in all they do,

We’ll lift up one when she is down,

Hold her high so she may grow,

Bring a smile and vanquish frowns.


The only tear you’ll see my friends,

Is happiness that shines on through,

For sadness hides its weary head,

And plays no part in what we do.


One day when we all look back,

At all the things that came to be,

We’ll do it three friends side by side,

Forever in the Friendship Tree.


His friends smiled and clapped, and he turned his head away so they could not see as he wiped away the last tear of sadness that he would cry, making way for the happiness that filled all their hearts. He would wait for many weeks to come and he knew eventually his paper boat would return, and he knew that day would be a time of celebration. Until then he would remain strong for them both.

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Once friendship formed within a tree,
And there I met another true,
When finally the mist did clear,
No longer one, there now sat two.

This tree with branches strong and wide,
Has pulled us here together now.
Is it just fate that made this be,
The reason will reveal somehow.

Where once the journey started long,
And two would walk the path with glee,
The path has widened ever more,
Now it carries these friends three.

So as the circle grows and grows,
The purpose will be very clear,
Forever more you’ll look to find,
That we will always be so near.

To lift you up and help you soar,
Where only eagles dare to fly,
Where even angels fear to tread,
Amongst the stars up in the sky.

And when we bring you down again,
The wonders that we know you’ll see,
Together as the three friends sit,
We’ll tell the tales in the Friendship Tree.

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I am very strong – you may draw strength from me.
You are very strong – I will draw strength from you.
This Tree is very strong – its branches we shall climb
When we need to find strength – which is most of the time.

When I feel very weak, I know where I should go.
When you feel very weak, my strength I will show.
When we need to find strength, what we have, we will share.
For we planted a Friendship Tree and I shall meet you there.

We are born into this world and we are blessed with just one life
So we live inside our dreams until the moment comes to die.
With its roots planted far into the core of the Earth
This Tree will bless us with a new kind of birth.

So when you feel weak, my friend, just begin to climb.
When you reach the highest branches, my strength you shall find.
There is courage and strength and such light in this world
When True Friendship exists between a boy and a girl.

And as we sit upon this branch, we’ll look up towards the sun.
For its bright beams will strengthen the bond that’s begun.
A beautiful red climbing rose adorns each branch of tree
And her love gives the two of us the strength that we need.

To my dearest friends, Langley and Rose – when I think of all the strength the two of you to impart into my life on a daily basis, words utterly fail me. Thank you for being there when times are good. Thank you for being there when they are not so good. I am completely overwhelmed with gratitude – Angelica xx

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Life makes people cross your path –
Some to cry with, some to laugh.
Some might teach you what it means
To be yourself, to live your dreams.

Slowly, strangers start to grow
Into dear friends you love to know,
Each learning how the other sees
The magic that blows in the breeze.

And when they share more than they hide,
They start to journey side by side.
When hard and easy truths are told
They might stay friends till they grow old.

A good friend knows the worst of you
But makes the choice to see the best.
They’ll always climb a tree with you,
But when you’re tired, help you to rest.

They’ll send a kite into the clouds
Or sweet bull dogs to lick your face.
They’ll send their paper boats downstream,
Inviting you to play and race.

For in the end, it’s clear to me,
Three children we will always be
And I’ll thank God eternally
That He gave such good friends to me.


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Today a friend wrote a poem for two of her dear friends. Not tree worthy I hear her say. But then sometimes we all need the encouragement to believe and I guess today I am that encouragement.

At some point in time Angelica will post what I am about to post under her own name. She is kind of heart and cares deeply for her two friends, just as they care for her, so I post this now so she may then post it herself.

Thankyou friend.

What It Means To Be A Friend.

The poem may now be found elsewhere on this blog.

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