Sunday, 11 March 2018

My Precious Rose

 My mother is my precious rose
Whose petals wrap lovingly around me,
Gone are many of the hurts in life
When she embraces me in her bloom. 

From Eve’s garden she grew,
Plucked by God’s own hand;
An angel in my loving eyes
Always watching over me. 

Charmed with the brightest of colours
That Mother Nature could nurture.
She is a beautiful rainbow
In whose love I flourish.

The sun will always shine on her,
Illuminating her motherly beauty.
Such beauty I hold close,
Be it near or far away. 

Her stem will always stand firm,
Supporting me in times of need:
A pillar of great strength
Keeping me always upright. 

My mother is my precious rose,
Whose thorns do not prickle but protect:
Entwined in her armour I face the world
To fall at no ones’ feet but my own.

© Andrew Stevenson 27/02/2017
A mother's day piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Thursday, 8 March 2018

Winter Blues

The wailing winter wind that blows a gale
Sweeps like a brittle brush scouring the land,
Rendering the autumn forests frail
And anything else that comes at hand. 

At the helm is Jack Frost, fearless and brave,
Advancing behind him a force of snow and hail;
Some of the elderly will come nearer to their grave –
Soon to be just a photograph, a memory, a tale. 

Outside the window there’s a tap,
Old Jack is back.
England groans at that familiar sound
And falls down on her knees. 

Like a light which takes away the dark,
What we knew before has now grown stark,
Good on the eye but cold on the feet –
Autumn’s goodbye as winter we meet. 

Tap, tap, tap –
Old Jack is back.

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.


Golden locks draw you in to a focal point smile, that spreads wide with a pride
Of conversing charitable needs; and rightly and justly so, with insight to know
That to aptly teach wisdom of a morality of standing is noble and honourable,
And to have an understanding attitude brings gratitude from masses of classes. 

Small in height, but large in stature, with hips that shake and sway in a way
To capture your attention, with the intention of marketing her tuneful singing,
But with a mind to aptly share, with a care for others as sisters and brothers,
As to be Christianly is Godly, and to offer a hand in her homeland is grand. 

A figure to desire, and a must is to lust as she is sultrily sexy,
But her charms are alms in visionary sight, as she aids the plight
Of Columbian gripe, that can be out of sight, but heed her need
To feed those less fortunate without the greed of sowing seed. 

© Andrew Stevenson 20/2/14 

This poem is about Shakira, the pop singer, who is very charitable in her homeland.
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Sunday, 4 March 2018

Blue With Flu

I’ve been ill for a week
Suffering from the flu,
I was feeling very blue –
Sadly lethargically weak.
Hobbies I couldn’t pursue
As I wrestled to aptly keep
My concentration so bleak
While sweating in my sheet. 

I still had to brave the weather
Walking my pet dog Sadie. 

Gladly I am now much better
And am feeling happily happy. 

Many get sick during cold winter
With many bugs floating freely. 

© Andrew Stevenson 05/03/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Saturday, 3 March 2018


Pick up your army gun and go and fight,
Use your whit and grit with all of your might,
Use your rank as cover and take refuge at the back,
Let lesser morsels explore the bomb beaten track. 

Victims of terror, pawns in a political game,
With many now sadly being mentally insane,
As to explore no man’s land is a shaking fear,
With raining explosions booming in your ear. 

Boldly marching on, breaking the frozen puddles,
Bitter cold biting, sending your senses in muddles,
And to be brave by soldiering on under the sun –
A comfort to cling to while facing what’s to come. 

Gruesome death, dismembered limbs flying,
Soldiers painstakingly trying to aid the dying,
Disorder, chaos at the front, shooting and stabbing
Slipping, hiding, taking cover while manoeuvring. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Out Of The Dark With A Bark

I took Sadie to see my Daughter,
She took some snaps of me and her
And my Grandchildren, Lacy May
And Kenzie all together at play.
Sadie was happily wagging her tail
In the pictures I got from my email,
I have already posted some of them
And have some more to post again. 

Sadie has fun with my Grandchildren
Who both take her for a short run,
She is strong and can pull quite hard
And with the kids is on her guard.
Sadie likes to roll on her stocky back
Where she will wait for a belly pat.

© Andrew Stevenson 01/03/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

My Pet Dog Sadie



Me, Sadie, and my Daughter Georgia, and my Grandchildren, Lacy May and Kenzie.

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Tuesday, 27 February 2018

Sorry For Sins

A short story I've re-edited with Biblical connotations. 

Samson reluctantly shuffled to the local bus stop in trepidation of the protocol he had recently endured. As his wayfaring thoughts wondered to a safer place, he stumbled, which abruptly regained his realism, and as he faced the impending, growing tarmac path, he instinctively threw forward his hands in defence, and shrieked in pain as they scraped hard against this aggressive surface. 

He felt the blood on his palms before he inspected these sources of suffering, subconsciously aware of his ambivalent, temporary respite from its rooted cause! He inflated to scream in defiance at the world, only then to instantly deflate with an understanding, comparative weakness. He sighed loudly, and did not care who might hear this cry of desperation, as he wanted protection, but found none of it in the humorous countenances passing by that mocked him. He regained what little composure he had, and carefully recommenced his fateful journey. 

As he neared the crowded bus stop, he consciously felt his body movement stiffen, and every move he made felt robotic – and very oiled with perspiration profuseness. His mind was racing as he uncomfortably wondered to the edge of this abyss, that he knew would suck him right in to its scary depth. He looked away in some vain hope he would not be seen, and found a little comfort from the heavenly garden scenery before him. 

He flushed in humble recognition of his name being whispered from behind him, and froze, willing the ground to swallow him up right there and then, with an emphatic empathy to the suffering in life worthy of excellence! 

At first there were just a few cruel jibes by a few, then it amassed to the many; he felt tears well up in his eyes for the injustice of it all, and then, uncharacteristically, he was struck in the face with a cowardly blow from behind with such a force that he keeled over with grateful imprisoning hands hiding his shameful face. 

The bus came moments later, and all but himself boarded.  He stood up as it left, and wondered in trial as why none of the adults waiting at the stop had come to his aid, and judged them accordingly to be guilty too. 

He skipped school for days after that and became a recluse, not trusting no one but his loving Father, who since his mother’s untimely passing had devoted himself wholeheartedly to his one and only Son.  But regardless of this trust, he could not bring himself to depart from all his woes, and kept them selflessly wrapped up within himself.

During an evening in, cornered in his bedroom, he was surprised to see his door pushed open by his circumstantial friend, who duly informed him that they were now one and the same, alienated, and tarnished with the same brush of indignation to religious respectability, and that he was now the victim in Samson’s absence at the aggrieved, civil bus stop. He told Samson that they pulled on his long hair, which fed their supposed dominant superiority. They reflectively cried tears, and found no shame in their consoling manly hugs.

That night before going to sleep, Samson remembered a parable his Father had advised him to heed, and fell softly to sleep with this understanding embrace of wisdom. 

The next morning, wearing his Christian armour and carrying the sword of peace, Samson marched to the bus stop with his Father’s knowledgeable strength. He quickly passed his friend, whose tresses were waving in the strength of the wind, and threw himself to these lion peers with a loving and forgiving heart. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Being Open

Sometimes in a relationship you clash with mind-set differences,
And can accommodate the other with a love to put aside your preferences,
But this can eat you up inside as you swallow your pride to hide your true-self,
And you can be thoughtless in your mindfulness of carefulness in quiet stealth;
But take notice of democratic divorces, and their mortality rated health. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Monday, 26 February 2018

A Hell-Bent Serpent

God said to lonely Adam
I will make you Eden,
But you are forbidden
To have your own wisdom. 

You shouldn’t eat from the tree
That I have indicated to thee
As it will make me unhappy
To see you understand like me. 

If you eat its fruit you’ll die
So do not even bother to try,
As I will roar from the sky
With a wrath of goodbye. 

God made Adam his wife, Eve,
But she was to unwisely deceive,
As the serpent made her believe
She should eat the fruit with greed. 

They now new good from evil
Which gave them a bitter-chill
As they hid from God’s call
As they were revealing their all. 

© Andrew Stevenson 26/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Sunday, 25 February 2018

Creating Creation

In the beginning
God was creating,
He made the earth
A place of worth. 

He made day and night
By creating our sunlight,
And our shining moon
Is like our sun’s groom. 

The stars God scattered
With shining administered,
God thought of our light
To see throughout night. 

An expanse of water
Hindered our Creator,
So he made the land
And thought it grand. 

He split the seas
And made bees
And made the sky
So birds could fly. 

Wildlife was aptly blooming
With vegetation flourishing,
Our Lord God was pleased
But still wasn’t appeased. 

So out of dust he made man,
Breathing life into Adam,
Then while he was asleep
Took a rib for a wife to reap. 

© Andrew Stevenson 26/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Share A Care Through Prayer

Love our Lord with might –
He may be out of your sight
But He is with us in Scripture
Preaching with some fervour.
Listen to what He has to say
That God made life from clay,
And is omniscient, omnipotent
And omnipresent and is present. 

God is indeed great and powerful,
His creation of life is wonderful,
He gave us His one and only Son
Who preached God’s holy wisdom.
Reach out to Jesus and our Father
With prayer my Sister and Brother. 

© Andrew Stevenson 25/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

A Philisophical Premise

Here’s a philosophical premise: ‘grass is meat’. Now when a calf is weaned off milk by its mother, in the wild, it will only eat grass (besides a few bugs and mushrooms), but in essence, just grass, and it will grow into a large cow, which is meat. 

And vegetables equal meat: when a vegetarian female becomes pregnant, the foetus will grow into a baby, and we are meat.

You have to take into consideration the attributes of water. 

© Andrew Stevenson 24/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Friday, 23 February 2018

My Pursue Of A Girl That Flew

I captured your beauty, which is held hostage in my mind:
But, paradoxically, I am held prisoner by your ransom
Of time passing by, which consumes my thoughts to pine
Over our pairing, sharing and caring existence not yet begun. 

Take the plunge and dive deep into my pool of wisdom;
And let I lead you into blissful pleasures of my endeavours –
As I have yet to unfold my bodily hold of strength to come,
Which bulges with masculinity sincerity of protective measures. 

We cannot yet be with each other,
As you are sadly with another.
But I will strive on and on
Until I am welcomed and he’s gone. 

Ann, the price I have to ambivalently pay
Is your consuming beauty domineering my day.
You are a beacon delight of sight might to aid my plight
Of suffering loneliness in all its ugliness of heart-wrenching gripe. 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/02/2018
A poem I wrote for my Nephew who gave it to a girl who he fancies.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Thursday, 22 February 2018

Not In Luck I Got Up

My dog woke me up at three,
She needed to go out for a wee,
So I regrettably got out of bed
Still feeling quite off my head
From whisky the previous night
With Budweiser beer that I like.
Feeling groggy I walked my doggie
And let her off the lead to roam free.  

The crisp, fresh air was sobering
While I was outside wayfaring,
And watching Sadie was pleasing
With her running and playing.
I’ll have a sleep during the day
Where on my bed we will lay. 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/02/2018
I feel alright now, and it's near eight o'clock in the morning.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Build On Your Foundation

When grief’s fist hits you square on the jaw,
And knocks your senses out of love’s door,
Don’t despairingly rage and long from afar,
Prize it back open a little and leave hope ajar. 

A torrential female sea, that calms with care,
Nurture it with honesty, respect, but beware,
Sharks live superficially and are hollow inside
From deprivation of a true gentleman’s pride. 

Flowers grow from seed, blossom and bloom,
Pluck nature’s essence and tide with the moon,
Be one with these elements awash on the shore
In and out of consciousness from the female core. 

Love love, a reiterating cliché, wisdom to impart,
A remedy for life’s sadness and a broken heart,
Don’t give up down, even an odyssey can find
Cupid’s sign posts reciprocating your love in kind. 

© Andrew Stevenson 22/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Monday, 19 February 2018

Love Over Our Rainbow

In her arms I find salvation, and long for the embraces of a difference,
As she nurtures paternal, protective measures, and expresses this outwardly;
And inwardly she beats an immeasurable love that has no pretence,
As her feelings are an open book for all to read with a heed of empathy. 

We are seen, and very heard, and with strong arms we fight the battle of existing,
And with blows – soft and hard, we try and disregard negativity with positivity,
Yet how low can you go, and how high can you fly, to reach your wanting
Of grasping where you want to be, as together we endeavour precariously. 

Storms that flow, sowing their drips and drops into crops that leave a mark,
And when this harvest is observed, a trail is seen on each cheek, a peek
Into her suffering as the long, lonely, wet nights turn into the days apart,
And the stresses show, and the torment renders her superficially weak. 

© Andrew Stevenson 02/02/14
A re-edited piece.
I wrote this while suffering with bipolar and being locked up in hospital.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

My Companion

Sadie my pet dog, keeps me company,
She is not judging me for my insanity,
And as she snuggles up close to me
I feel love and a little tranquillity. 

She barks often, and up stands her hair,
And she can pace the lounge with care,
So I watch in my gladness without sadness
As she is well built with much prowess. 

She defends by being alert to all sounds
And heads for the door in leaps and bounds,
She is brave and is willing to put up a fight
Which is a protective measure that I like. 

© Andrew Stevenson 11/03/2017
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Sunday, 18 February 2018

My Nephews Amuse

I saw James and Kieran,
My two likeable Nephews,
I heard their latest news
And we had plenty of fun.
They both pay their dues
To their appreciative mum,
With both being a loving son
With the ability to amuse. 

Kieran is a big body-builder
Lifting weights at the gym. 

James is a builder and roofer
And aptly provides for his kin. 

We all love my loving Sister –
Their Mother called Kim. 

© Andrew Stevenson 19/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Philosophising While Shopping

 My mate Raj owns a shop,
Where I occasionally stop
To stock up on groceries
While saying pleasantries;
Behind the counter he’s sat –
We often have a small chat
Mostly about our finances
With its many grievances. 

He has split from his partner,
And now he does sadly suffer
As he still lovingly loves her
And wants to get back together.
Raj is religious and is a Sikh
Offering philosophies to reap. 

© Andrew Stevenson 18/02/2018
I enjoy socialising with Raj, as I studied religion in Open University, so am familiar with his faith. And he respects Jesus and the Christian way of life.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Friday, 16 February 2018

Chill From Being Ill

My roots are firmly
In the hard ground,
I am now sensibly
Feeling quite sound,
Growing passionately
To where I’m bound,
Joining my family tree
Not feeling sadly down. 

I’m in a heavenly place
And am resting in peace,
I long to see your face
As I am not yet deceased.
I will not just pass you by
With memories to deny. 

© Andrew Stevenson 04/09/2017
A re-edited piece. I only kept the first two lines.
Thank  you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Be Free With His Mercy

God’s splendour is beautiful,
He created everything we see,
And what we hold to be bountiful
He provided with his invisibility. 

He is there if you stop and stare,
Gaze at His wonderfully nice life
And appreciate Him with a prayer
As He is all about everything nice. 

We have our own free-will to ill
Others who’re Sisters and Brothers,
And the God fearing can aptly instil
The unbelieving to be wise lovers. 

Love our Saviour’s loving love
As He has a wise, Godly wisdom,
Representing our Father up above
Who’s will shall by Him be done. 

God’s forgiving through our Lord,
Those sinning by transgressing
And living by the gun or sword
Should see Jesus as a blessing. 

© Andrew Stevenson 16/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Thursday, 15 February 2018

A Wait For A Blind Date

I’ve found a mate for my dog Sadie,
A Jack Russell owned by Nobby –
An old friend who lives quite near;
He said when she’s ready bring her.
She’ll wear a muzzle when they meet
As she goes for other dogs in the street.
I’ll keep a bitch when she has her litter
So she’ll have company in a daughter. 

She has just come on heat and is bleeding
So It won’t be long before she’s mating,
She will make a good mother I’m sure
As her love for my is rich and not poor.
My mate Inksy and Maria might have one
As their most recent pet dog has passed on. 

© Andrew Stevenson 16/02/2018
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

To Clare I Have A Care

Where are you Clare,
As I have a loving care,
I hold my love aloft –
Nice and gently soft. 

I'm waiting for you,
Are you searching too,
I'm feeling quite blue
Without you to pursue. 

You were beautiful to me,
Attractively very pretty,
Full of hopeful promises
Of our love lasting ages. 

I loved you loving the Son,
A testament to your wisdom;
Preach to me your sensibilities
That can have nice possibilities. 

Please adhere this beckoning cry,
And I will let out a pleasant sigh
Of a welcoming and longed-for relief
From suffering my loneliness grief. 

© Andrew Stevenson 30/03/2017
A re-edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Rising Early

I’ve been out walking,
The weather is freezing
With a cold wind blowing,
It’s the climate for snowing
But the clouds aren’t showing.
A new day will soon be dawning,
Hopefully the sun will be shining
To greet everybody who’re waking. 

Sadie was pleasantly running,
She was stalking and chasing
The ducks that were lingering,
But gladly they were escaping.
I like wayfaring in the morning
With peace and quiet pleasing. 

© Andrew Stevenson 14/02/2018
A poem with the same rhyming suffix throughout.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.