Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

 colours of the evening sky

                  reveal the setting sun—

aromas of the sleepy garden

                  refresh my musty senses.

© Chrissy Siggee

From my book:   Glimpses of His Glory

Under Copyright: https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/catalog/4537869

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Archived in: 🦋 Christian Reads & 🦋 Poetry Mix

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Mantled in whispers of cloud,
Little white dove blissfully endowed.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Softy embracing a heavenly tone,
Fly little white dove in skies unknown.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Little white dove rises beyond the dance,
Through the power of a rhythmic trance.

© Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

I asked an old lady in the park if she had seen my little boy.

‘What does he look like?’ she replied.

‘Well,’ I answered, quite sincere—

‘He has brown eyes
and hair to match;
Too many curls for a little boy,
combed to perfection every day;
His teeth are white as white can be—
A very tidy little man is he!
He wears a smartly pressed sailor suit
with little white shoes to match.’

— A perfect darling is my boy.’

‘No child like this I have seen,’ the lady did respond,
‘but a treasure you will find, just around that path.’

Around the garden path I went
and before me, a treasure my eyes beheld—

He had brown eyes
and hair to match.
A shock of curls in disarray,
band-aid knees, and soiled clothes—
What happened to my little boy?
In front, he had a missing tooth;
he was eating ice cream from a cone,
his face aglow with a rainbow smile.

— ‘A perfect darling is my boy.’

© Chrissy Siggee

Under Copyright: https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/catalog/4537869

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Archived in: 🦋 Christian Reads 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

COmE, dANce WiTh mE

DaNCiNg couples enhanced my mood
Lights dimmed and music subdued.

This man intrigued me – he sat alone;
Rumour had him single and smart.
Will he consider a dAnCe with me?

He looked at me – I looked away.
Doubt disappeared – I met his gaze.
He smiled at me – I think I blushed.
Is it possible? – Is he the one?

He rose from his chair and walked my way;
I sat quite still, frozen in time –
Preoccupied with sweet fantasies.

With a princely bow, he took my hand,
His eyes spoke volumes; I rose to dANce
A foretaste of our love and romance.

daNce

Daydreams mingled with our DancE,
Nothing ever happens by chance.

We married young – knew nothing of life,
We lived simply and loved each other
We knew we could dAnCe without a doubt.

We dreamed our dreams, we knew your hearts;
Through the years we dANcE as one.
We learned to commit – we cherish our love
To dANcE with you – for a lifetime, no less!

We nurtured our DanCe and learned new moves
From hip-hop kids to break-dance teens,
found new routines and danCed each one.

You showed me how to refine our dAnCe
With true love – the order of each day
We progressed to classical ballet.

DaNCe

The sands of time continue to flow,
Neither age nor pain will end this daNCe.

We dANceD yesterday. We DanCEd today.
We’ll DaNcE tomorrow, this dANce of life.
We might not have dAnCeD – we took a chance.

Your true commitment never fails
because you dAncE with love in your heart.
You love me the way I am – I know,
Always have – right from our very first DAnCE!

In the stillness of the night, you hold me
For always – I will daNce with you
Devotion and love are ours – it’s true.

A lifetime of memories stirs from within,
Our dAnCe is still to the finest degree
Because I accepted – and you DanCED with me.

dANcE

First published © Chrissy Siggee – 2018

Dedicated to my husband, Norm.

Archived in: Poetry Mix🦋

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Blue skies, gentle rains

     Summer’s sun sweltering heat

Hot days – sticky nights.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2018

Archived in: Poetry Mix

A moment of joy
and a note to sing—
or a tender kiss.

A whisper of peace
and a soothing voice
with a gentle hug.

A lasting hope
and a caring heart—
the softest touch.

An endless faith
and a treasured gift
that lasts forever.

© Chrissy Siggee 2017

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

For Just a moment

Remembering restful days

Sitting by the shore.

© Chrissy Siggee – https://riversidepeace.com/

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

The rhythm of the rain gently declares its message,

       Its gentleness soothes my soul.

Silent birds make known the impending cooler day—

       I snuggle deep beneath the covers.

© Chrissy Siggee

Under Copyright: https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/catalog/4537869

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Archived in: 🦋 Christian Reads 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Dawn illuminates the sky

                  caressing the trees

Songs of the birds fill my ears

                  and slumber from my eyes

The crispness in the air

                 awakens the senses.

© Chrissy Siggee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
From my book: Glimpses of His Glory

under copyright:

https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/catalog/4537869

Archived in:  🦋 Christian Reads  &  🦋 Poetry Mix

The heavens are ablaze with orange embers
Splinters of steel-grey clouds pierce the radiance
Wisps of haze emerge like smoky smudges
Summer’s twilight heat affects the changing light
Fiery reflections shimmer against the fading hues
Like a fire in the sky, the sun melts into the horizon.

© Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

I don’t care what people say
It’s time to look the other way.
If I want to write – I will
with or without a copyright.

Poems, fiction and mysteries,
for children and adults.
Whatever takes my fancy – oh yeah…
It’s what I like to do.

My grammar may not be perfect
and rhyme is not my forte
But whatever I write –
I write with all my heart.

Grandchildren love my nonsense,
Friends enjoy a jingle.
I only write for them and those
Who enjoy my writing most.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2018

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Why is it that when I plan to spend time writing, I’m needed by everybody?

Why is it that when I’m relaxing, someone wants something?

Why is it when I’m sleeping that someone phones me?

Why is it that when I’m about to eat, there’s a knock on the door?

Why is it that when I want to shut down the computer, an email/ message comes in?

Don’t get me wrong, I do get to write…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help…

Don’t get me wrong, I love people who phone…

Don’t get me wrong, I love having visitors…

Don’t get me wrong, there are only spam emails I dislike…

I just wish at times I have more time to write.

I just wish at times I had superpowers.

I just wish at times I could answer in my sleep.

I just wish at times people come earlier and eat with me.

I just wish at times my computer answers emails for me.

by me: Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

The rhythm of the rain gently declares its message,

       Its gentleness soothes my soul;

Silent birds make known the impending cooler day—

       I snuggle deep beneath the covers.

© Chrissy Siggee – https://riversidepeace.com/

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Dawn illuminates the sky

                  caressing the trees

Songs of the birds fill my ears

                  and slumber from my eyes

The crispness in the air

                 awakens the senses.

© Chrissy Siggee – https://riversidepeace.com/

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Some things don’t feel right.
Unpleasant confrontations generate a mood of sadness.
Shivers torment already traumatised nerves,
like fingernails dragged across a blackboard.
Yet, there’s nought to fear.

Some things are not right.
Hostility clutches hold with naive dishonesties
and confusion creeps in with unsuspected lies.
Cold fingers of fear grip with malicious rumours.
Yet, there’s nought to fear.

Some things are never right.
Malice and corruption run amok in a violated world
with greed and self-absorption taking hold.
Unpredicted anguish and hearts full of darkness.
Yet, there’s nought to fear.

Some things can be made right.
Terrors of the night flee with the promise of the sunrise.
Integrity re-established to transform thoughts
to benefit the practice of honest, uncorrupted lives.
Yes, there’s nought to fear.

© Chrissy Siggee -2019

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Sixty days she walked alone,
counting memories along the way.
She stumbled every now and then
but knew she couldn’t fall.
Her mind was full of images;
her heart was full of grief.
Too many nights alone,
many days that would not end.

Now she sits on her garden seat,
bought together one summer’s day.
Tears spilled down her cheeks
lost in a world without her Paul.
She knows her life must go on;
her mind still filled with disbelief.
With every breath it hurt,
alone, she could comprehend.

One day she’ll fall in love once more,
with a restored heart to give away.
For now, she lives with memories
that she cannot help recall.
His presence’s felt all around;
memories bring fruitless relief.
Worst of all, no doubt about it,
she had lost her very best friend.

Autumn leaves fall to the ground,
like the tears they portray.
Her face stings with salty wetness—
she wipes them away with assurance.
She’ll face new challenges boldly;
yet still, sorrow will not be brief.
Time will heal and life will go on,
and her mourning heart will mend.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

Back in early 2019 when we lived in Sydney, we often witnessed victimisation and bullying in nature, and birds were no exception. Across from our house was an open green area with a scattering of trees. A neighbour had donated a birdbath for the birds to enjoy and many residents would encourage the birds to hang around by feeding them. Usually the same variety of birds would gather together at various times during the day. Sometimes stragglers were left from a previous flock and fighting often breakout with loud screeches and squawks. Usually, it was the same breed who fought among themselves but this pretty bird flew in alone. By the time I set up my camera he had had a drink and was moving awkwardly up the branch of a jacaranda tree. That’s when I noticed how battered he looked. Where there should have been brilliantly blue feathers on his head they were quite dark and ruffled. His belly feathers were partly missing. He may have been just old but in this case he was more likely to have been an escaped caged bird and had recently been in a fight with native birds who didn’t appreciate his arrival.

Archived in:🦋 Poetry Mix

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

In the depths of our hearts – a love so true

a bond unbreakable, my dear, it’s you.

Mum, you are the light that guides our way

though you may be gone, in our hearts you will stay.

***

In that vast world where you now reside;

a place unknown, where angels abide.

We wonder if we’ll see your face again,

our uncertainty lingers like a gentle refrain.

***

Yet, we find solace in knowing you are near,

watching over us with a love so clear.

Your gentle whispers are like an unseen breeze,

with comfort and peace to put our hearts at ease.

***

Though we yearn for the day we will again unite

in this earthly realm, or beyond the light,

we know our love for you will never fade,  

and through the passage of time it will cascade.

***

Mum, we cherish the memories we hold,

the laughter, the tears, the stories untold.

You shaped our lives in ways we cannot express

and in our souls, your spirit finds its caress.

***

We love you, Mum. Forever we’ll proclaim!

Your spirit lives on, ablaze like a flame.

Though you may be gone, we’ll never part

for you’ll always reside within our hearts.

***

So, until the day we meet again

we’ll carry your love like a guiding pen.

You will forever remain in our thoughts and dreams

A cherished presence stitched into life’s seams.

Written by Sandra Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

A camel that couldn’t blink,
had eyes that were yellowish pink
but being a smart fella,
he bought an umbrella
and married a lama in sync.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

In pages worn and yellowed, tales of old,

I seek solace, where legends’ stories are told.

But amidst the myths and lures of the past,

I find myself yearning for something that will last.

***

I long to journey with you hand in hand,

To chase dreams, taking risks, across the land.

Together, we’ll seek the one who understands,

A companion, a soul, like the tales demand.

***

For in these ancient books, I find a yearning,

A desire for a connection, a heart’s true turning.

Someone to lean on, someone who will be,

The very embodiment of the tale’s decree.

***

Oh, bring me someone to turn to, to trust,

A person whose presence I’ll forever adjust.

A kindred spirit, a love that can’t be missed,

Something just like this, a love I insist.

***

So let’s write our own legend, you and I,

With words of passion, beneath the starry sky.

Together we’ll create a story so grand,

A tale of love, fate’s gentle guiding hand.

***

In this world of old books and fables untold,

Let’s weave a story, a love to unfold.

For I desire someone who’ll make my heart twist,

Someone like you, my dear, something just like this.

Written by Sandra Siggee

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

In shadows of love, I once found solace,

But now I stand in heartbreak’s embrace.

A tale of betrayal, my soul left shattered

As love’s sweet melody turns bitter and tattered.

***

Once, your affection was a flame so bright,

But now it flickers, consumed by the night.

In disbelief, I watch our love erode

As secrets unravel, truths are now bestowed.

***

Tears stain my cheeks, a river of pain

For love’s betrayal leaves an eternal stain.

How could you wander, my heart’s trusted guide?

Into the arms of another, casting me aside?

***

The whispers of deceit, they cut so deep,

As trust crumbles, a wound that won’t sleep.

In the wreckage of love, I search for reasons

But find only echoes of love’s faded seasons.

***

Yet, through this heartbreak, I’ll rise anew,

Reclaiming my spirit, bidding love adieu.

For I deserve a love that’s pure, untamed,

Not one tainted by deceit falsely claimed.

***

So, I’ll heal the wounds, stitch up the pain,

Learn to love myself, and rise again.

Though scars may linger, I’ll find my way,

And let heartbreak’s darkness turn to brighter days.

***

For in the depths of loss, I’ll find my might

And from this heartbreak, I’ll take flight.

No longer bound by love’s treacherous game,

I’ll soar beyond the ashes, reclaiming my flame.

***

Written by Sandra Siggee

The Smell of Death Lingers

The smell of death lingers –
It lingers in the bedroom
and in the dining room.
But, in the garden 
it grasps the essence of life—
Even the weeds share their aroma.

The smell of death lingers—
Odours cannot be shaken
it's everywhere I go.
But, in the garden 
it grasps the essence of life—
Even the weeds share their aroma.

The smell of death lingers—
It lingers on my clothing
every breath smothers me.
But, in the garden 
it grasps the essence of life—
Even the weeds share their aroma.

The smell of death lingers—
Until life yields into death
to finds its final path.
And, in the garden 
it grasps the essence of life—
Even the weeds share their aroma.

Chrissy Siggee July 2021

Archived in: Poetry Mix

There’s something about a river
that draws me to its side
Effortlessly advancing
toward a lake or sea.

With an abundance of freshness
it’s filled with life and health
Uninterrupted flowing
beyond the distant fields.

From gentle humble beginnings
– a fact of life itself
Amazingly appealing
amid a lonely past.

Whispers of the river embrace
the peace renews my mind
Majestically embracing
yonder pathways I see.

© Chrissy Siggee

Archived in: 🦋  Poetry Mix

There once was a flea called Maureen,

lived a laid-back life of a queen.

She survived on a government grant,

which occurred to her as a song and dance,

After-all, she was only eighteen.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in Poetry Mix

There once was a prince called Dylan,
who was known as a bit of a villain.
He would never wash his hands
after a feeding on smelly clams,
so his doctor ordered him to take penicillin.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: 🦋 Poetry Mix

There once was a man called Matt,
who wore an astonishing hat.
He found himself lost on vacation,
in an Australian outback location
and fell into a hole of a kangaroo-rat.

Chrissy Siggee 2020

Archived in: 🦋  Poetry Mix