Tuesday 30 July 2013

Cast Adrift


Cast adrift
in a tumultuous storm

of one's own making

no clouds with silver linings here
just blackened cumulonimbus
sagging from the weight
of unshed tears


it takes
one act of kindness
one shaft of light
one seed of hope


to release those tears
dissipate the clouds
and welcome back the sun.



Mandy Edwards (c) 2013


 

Sunday 28 July 2013

Blind Devotion




Blind Devotion

Along the river bank one day
I met a man and dog at play

the dog  carried in his mouth
a rubber ring
an awkward thing

but that was not the strangest sight
his faithful eyes were milky white
“How can he find the ring?” I asked
And his master softly laughed
“I make sure he knows,” he said


bent down to point his blind dog’s head
toward the way that he would throw

and with wagging tail off he sped

the ring jostled by his side
then tumbled to the ground to hide
at first the dog walked round and round
sniffed and sniffed ‘til it was found
then headed off in joyful glee
you would not know he could not see


back eventually he came
sat back down – “more … more … the same”

every muscle was a quiver
he knew his master would deliver


And I?
I cried inside as I stood there
watching this devoted pair


For love that binds a man with dog
is surely love that comes from God.
 
Mandy Gayle Edwards 2013 ©

Thursday 25 July 2013

"Be sure the light you have is not your darkness"


A lighthouse stands alone
on a rocky promontory
flashes intermittently
a ribbon of radiance
in the inky blackness of the night


 

A ship frantic in the storm
searches for sanctuary
exposed like a hapless moth
drawn towards the light

 

Ignores the warning
"Not here ... not here ... not here"
but lured by a false God
is tossed ever nearer
 
"Be sure the light you have
is not your darkness"
Let not Neptune's fury
dash all hope upon the rocks.
 
Mandy Edwards 2013 (c)

Sunday 21 July 2013

Return to Dead Man's Ridge ...


Watch out for 'Return to Dead Man's Ridge.' The first two chapters are complete! :) This one will not take so long to write, hopefully, so be quick, and download Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge, on your child's tablet or kindle, or PC ... otherwise it will be 'old news!' You can buy it from Amazon at a mere $US3.99. Why wait any longer? :)  http://amzn.to/149v0A4



Prologue.

Dear Tom.


I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of miss the farm! I know you’re always going on (and on) about me being a ‘city girl’ and all, but I have to admit, life in town sucks after the mystery of Dead Man’s Ridge! I mean, how many city girls do you know, get caught up in sheep rustling and cannabis growing? My friends back here just don’t believe me!

Seriously, I hope you’re taking good care of Rascal and Billy for me. I so miss them but I guess our apartment would be a little crowded with a dog and a lamb! Mum’s doing much better. They think they’ve got all the cancer and so far there’s no sign of it coming back. Thank God. I was so scared. So was Mum I think, but she’s not admitting it. Anyhow, she says I can come back next summer; I can’t wait. She’s going to come too, I think. ‘Time to heal old wounds’, she says. I guess she means about Dad. He’s been emailing me heaps and I’m looking forward to seeing him again.

Write back if you can be bothered, little cuz, or maybe send me an e-mail ... you know, modern technology and all that. Hope you haven’t been doing any brown eyes lately! Could be a little cold riding your bike to school in the winter!

See ya. Hugs to Aunty Liz and Uncle Ted.

Love Maggie. PS, have ya seen Luke around at all?






 
Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge
amzn.to
When city girl meets country boy, there is huge potential for trouble! Maggie Mackenzie is forced to spend her Christmas holidays on a farm, in the ‘middle of nowhere’, with some relatives she has 

 

Sunday 14 July 2013

A poem that cuts to the heart of things.

The Invitation 

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living 
I want to know what you ache for 
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. 

It doesn't interest me how old you are 
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool 
for love 
for your dreams 
for the adventure of being alive. 

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon... 
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow 
if you have been opened by life's betrayals 
or have become shrivelled and closed 
from fear of further pain. 

I want to know if you can sit with pain 
mine or your own 
without moving to hide it 
or fade it 
or fix it. 

I want to know if you can be with joy 
mine or your own 
if you can dance with wildness 
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your 
fingers and toes 
without cautioning us to 
be careful 
be realistic 
to remember the limitations of being human. 

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me 
is true. 
I want to know if you can 
disappoint another 
to be true to yourself. 
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal 
and not betray your own soul. 
If you can be faithless 
and therefore trustworthy. 
I want to know if you can see Beauty 
even when it is not pretty 
every day. 
And if you can source your own life 
from its presence. 

I want to know if you can live with failure 
yours and mine 
and still stand on the edge of the lake 
and shout to the silver of the full moon, 
"Yes." 

It doesn't interest me 
to know where you live or how much money you have. 
I want to know if you can get up 
after a night of grief and despair 
weary and bruised to the bone 
and do what needs to be done 
to feed the children. 

It doesn't interest me who you know 
or how you came to be here. 
I want to know if you will stand 
in the center of the fire 
with me 
and not shrink back. 

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom 
you have studied. 
I want to know what sustains you 
from the inside 
when all else falls away. 
I want to know if you can be alone 
with yourself 
and if you truly like the company you keep 
in the empty moments.


Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Canadian Teacher and Author

Thursday 11 July 2013

Please visit me at ... https://www.facebook.com/#!/MysteryAtDeadMansRidge

If you yearn for the simple country life
Peace and tranquillity
Then don’t visit Dead Man’s Ridge
for you simply won’t believe ….

Just what goes on in a woolshed
or what’s hidden in the bush clad hills
and if you meet a boy named Tom
there’s bound to be some thrills.

... He’ll give you a clapped out bike
drop his trousers on a barbed wire fence
teach you how to burp the alphabet
fend off a hawk in self defence …

If you like a bit of gore and guts
The country’s the place to be
There’s plenty of maggoty road kill
Just ask Maggie Mackenzie ..
 
 

An extract from ... Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge, by Mandy Edwards.

“Blast,” said Tom. “Quick, I’ll be grounded for a month if we don’t get home before Mum and Dad.”
“So what?” scoffed Maggie. “You don’t have any social life anyway!” But nevertheless she reached her bike first, swung her leg over the bar and took off, with Tom in hot pursuit. She was in the bad books already with Uncle Ted, and she didn’t want to have her name heading up yet another page!
They were two kilometres into their ride when they heard the shots.
Maggie slammed on her brakes, and Tom, who had been following close behind, crashed into her back tyre. Maggie’s wheel spun out behind her, and she somersaulted over her handle bars, and flew into the ditch. Her bike fell on top of her. And there she lay, moaning; completely unable to move!

Shots in the Night

Tom regained control of his bike, as he watched his cousin’s spectacular fall. He leapt off his seat, and almost got tangled in his own bike spokes, in his haste to reach her.
“Jeez Mags, are you okay?” Tom carefully lifted the bike off her and tossed it to one side. He let out his breath in relief as Maggie groaned and struggled to sit up. She fingered the huge rip in her jeans and winced as the blood dripped slowly down her leg. Both her elbows were grazed and she had a small bump appearing on her forehead.
“Thank god you were wearing a helmet,” said Tom. “You could have knocked all the sense out of you!”
“Shut up!” Maggie snapped. “My jeans are ruined!” Just then, another shot rang out and both children ducked. Tom scanned the darkness and could just make out the pinprick of light way in the distance.
“Hey someone’s out hunting on the McGregors’ farm. Do you think …?” But Maggie was trembling with shock, in no condition to think. Tom took one look at her white face and wondered what on earth he was going to do. The front wheel of her bike was knackered; several spokes had broken and the back tyre was punctured.
“Jeez, you sure know how to wreck a bike,” he teased. “Let’s heave it into the bushes, and you can ride on the back of mine. Are you up for it?” Maggie nodded wearily and climbed on behind Tom. It was obvious her knee hurt like hell, but she said nothing. Tom gave her an admiring look. Maggie sure had guts, even if she was a girl!


Read Mystery at Dead Man's Ridge ... and find out who fired those shots ... and why! http://amzn.to/149v0A4


Saturday 6 July 2013

Ever wished you could just 'disappear' for a while and have no demands on your time?


The Art of Disappearing
By Naomi Shihab Nye

When they say Don’t I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say we should get together.
say why?

It’s not that you don’t love them any more.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time