“The greatest invention in the world is the mind of a child.”
– Thomas Edison
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Sharing a delightful nature post combining original poetry and artwork from friends. This enchanting post originally appeared on my friend Sylva Fae’s blog Sylvanian Ramblings. If you love nature and children, I strongly encourage you to visit and follow her captivating blog.
The amazing “Trees” poem is courtesy of Neil Giles, and the accompanying beautiful artwork “Cyclamens at Killerton” created by Emma Childs.
I invite you to meet, connect and follow their creative works. Sylva’s delightful blog is linked above, clicking on the poem tree image will take you to Neil’s Twitter page, and clicking on the artwork will take you to Emma’s site.
Big thank you’s to Sylva, Neil and Emma for allowing me to share their magical creative works with you! I hope you enjoy as much as I did when first seeing their creations.
“Once you realize that the road is the goal and that you are always on the road, not to reach a goal, but to enjoy its beauty and its wisdom, life ceases to be a task and becomes natural and simple, in itself an ecstasy.”
~ Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj ~
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“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
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Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages and Fitness Levels!Join us for an Adventure in the beautiful Ozarks Mountain Country!
A hungry little bear sat alone on a hill.
Honey jar in paws, ever careful not to spill.
He spoke not a word while opening the jar,
gazing over the meadows and fields afar.
Sticking in his tongue, slurping and lapping up the sweet honey,
he enjoyed the beauty of the day, so warm bright and sunny.
Honey drizzled down his chin and all over his front,
“Ugh! I’m all sticky! Egads!” he exclaimed with a grunt!
“What will my Mother say,
when she sees me this way?”
“She will want me to bathe and then toss me in the river.”
And with this worrisome thought, his lip started to quiver.
Though his dire hunger was now sated,
new bath concerns went unabated.
The sweet honey nearly gone,
he then leaned back with a yawn.
And remaining honey now out of reach with his tongue,
The bear remembered a tune which his mother had sung.
“Joshua Giraffe was born in a zoo,
he lived there, too.
For two years and a half,
he hasn’t had a bath . . .” *
He sang the verse boldly as he wandered back home,
Still hoping not to be drowned in wretched soap foam.
With icky sticky honey all over his fur,
he crept beside Mother, to hide, snuggle and purr.
But a bear is not a cat,
so shouldn’t try to do that.
Bath time was on as he wriggled and squirmed,
dunked in the river, his bath fears confirmed.
But since the bears don’t use soap,
There were no reasons to mope.
With no shampoo in his eyes to cause any tears,
he had no real worries to support all his fears.
Wee bear shouldn’t have tried to conceal his icky sticky self.
Not when there’s a jar of honey noticed missing from the shelf.
Mothers always seem to know when something is amiss.
Besides, all bath times end with a motherly bear kiss.
Note *– Song lyric excerpt from “Joshua Giraffe” lyrics by Raffi Cavoukian