Anti-Social Media

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Picture perfect,
It may well look
But the cover won’t reveal the book.

Smiling faces,
A snapshot in time
All create the illusion online.

Apply a filter,
Live video stream
Could slightly boost your self-esteem.

Sugar-coated,
Triumphs only
Prove to the world you’re not lonely.

How many likes?
How many friends?
Follow life through a warped lens.

Broadcast perfection,
Don’t look too close
Careful not to overdose.

Screen shot of
Inspirational quote
Did you see what she wrote?

Keyboard warrior,
Cyber troll
Try not to really show your soul.

Mundane chores,
Everyday reality
They’re not things you’re going to see.

Turn off the computer,
Put down the phone
Or you may well find you’re all alone.
 Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2017)
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One Life

This is it.

There’s no practice run

No waiting game

For anyone.

 

This is it.

Make it good

Live for now

As you said you would.

 

This is it.

Enjoy this day

Make memories

And time to play.

 

This is it.

You can’t restart

Learn from mistakes

Be true to your heart.

 

Copyright © Sophie Harrington (2017)

Diamonds

Like unmined diamonds
Their feelings lay buried.
Their dazzling beauty, concealed.
Suppressed but perfectly preserved.
Unchartered, undisturbed.
Unexplored.

And it would take an explosion
To erupt their true exquisiteness,
The enchantment of these jewels
Would be unsurpassed, unparalleled;
But neither held the catalyst.
Neither would light the touch paper.

So there the rough diamonds lay.
Pure and magnificent.
Unhandled by human touch.
Unscrutinised, they held their enduring beauty.
Unfathomable enigma.
For all eternity.

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington 




A poem from an old teenage years notebook.

Seize the Day

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Cherish every opportunity
And tell them how you feel
Regrets are such bitter torment
Punishment if you don’t make
Each chance count.

Don’t let another day go by
Impermanency demands you live
Every day as if it’s your last.
Mortality is our reality.

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2017)

Need to savour life? Also read Slow Down.

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BMX Brother

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Bombing down the leafy snicket
Clinging to my brother’s back. 
He was late back from cricket
Now he’s cycling like a maniac.

Mum asked him to take me
To the Brownie hut.
He quickly gulped down tea
And a jammy doughnut.

I’m balanced on the BMX stunt pegs
He saved up for his back wheels. 
My dress bunched between my legs
So it won’t catch sending me head over heels.

The sun is winking through the trees
As we zoom down the alley.
I can feel the spring breeze
While he pedals madly.

My calves keep catching on the tyre
But I don’t make a noise.
Even though it feels like fire
I want to be one of the boys.

I won’t be a cry-baby
I ignore the no cycling sign.
As we whizz past a lady
I’m on cloud nine.

I love having a big brother
Who can do this.
He’s not like any other
And I’m his little sis.

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2017)


The Journey of Life

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There may not be a plan
But if you’re lucky, you will encounter
A journey through time and space,
A unique ride to be marvelled.
It will be bitter and sweet.
It won’t be easy.

Moments to cherish and despise
But each step, every breath, is your own.
Each decision, ultimately lays with you.
There will be agonising trials out of your control.
You will make painful mistakes.
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On this ride, open your eyes, heart and soul.
Gasp at the beauty of the world.
Wonder at its magnitude.
Love fiercely. Savour it. Grasp it.
You will experience bitter disappointment.
Make sure you move on.

At times your adventure will be intense.
Exquisite. Excruciating.
Harrowing loss will almost break you,
Intoxication will try to dominate you.
Make sure you enjoy the ordinary.
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Relish the unexpected.
Eye contact that makes your insides flip
A delicious leap of anticipation.
Appreciate the seasons, sunsets, leaves,
Beauty is all around you.
Inhale it every day.

Growing old is a gift, not a chore.
Be grateful for it.
Always be kind.
We all need compassion.
Together we can make tears of joy
Outnumber tears of sadness.

  © Sophie Harrington (2017)

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Birth of a Naturalist

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No amount of scrubbing

Will clean these grubby nails.

These small hands keep scrabbling

At rocks, all kinds of shale.

 

Tiny digits seeking out

Any kind of critter.

Lifting up the stones to scout

Before they reconsider.

 

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They scatter as light invades

Their community disturbed.

Futile efforts to barricade

Are nearly always curbed.

 

He deftly scoops the woodlice

As they start to flee.

Tweezer fingers so precise

When he wants them to be.

 

If he could handle a pencil

With such dexterity

There wouldn’t be the immense hill

He seeks for scholastic clarity.

 

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If this could be his classroom

How happy he would be.

We count the flowers in bloom

And use chalk rocks for literacy.

 

Your gentle love of nature

And wonder at the earth

Makes you my personal teacher

And reminds me of all it’s worth.

 

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So let’s explore the garden,

And play amongst the leaves,

Because as you grow, you’ll harden

To all a five-year-old perceives.

 

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2016)

Try Sophie Harrington poems for parents? – Read Slow Down or Little Boys or Little Girls