The Little Sunflower


My moisturizer smells like summer. The scent fills my nose as I rest my face against my knuckles; sitting sideways on the green grandfather chair under my window. The cool breeze coming through the open window makes the sunflower on the sill sway, its head pointing in the direction of the afternoon sun as if controlled, set in a trance by the warm hues of its beaming eye.
I used to stare at the sun, like a sunflower; standing beside the ones in the field behind the house…. they concentrated and followed that ball of light from east to west everyday. Their stalks were tall, strong and the colour green that you could never seem to match even if you spent all day trying to mix the paint. I always wondered how they could be so strong without moving, just staring across the horizon, I only ever managed a few minutes before my eyes would begin to water , ache and all i’d be left with is the spots of red and orange speckling my vision.
Maybe it was me, that was not strong enough, I attempted to grow sunflowers myself when I was younger but the stalks would simply bend and wilt. I once used milk to water them because I learnt in school that milk made bones strong and in the mind of six year old that meant milk could give anything strength. The soil began to get moldy after a week as the milk turned in the heat of summer, my room smelt like the inside of a bin even with the amount of fabreeze my mum sprayed.

What’s weird is that she didn’t seem angry, I guess my reason behind using the milk was valid enough, she simply said “ daft petal, what’s good for you may not be so good for flowers”


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“To get lost is such a tempting thing”

It’s the scenes that make the story


“And once you live a good story, you get a taste for a kind of meaning in life, and you can’t go back to being normal; you can’t go back to meaningless scenes stitched together by the forgettable thread of wasted time.”  – Donald Miller

Just a number

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… and he said that age was just a number.

It did not mean you had to grow up and mature in that instant, no my dear keep dancing in the rain or while cooking in the kitchen, use words like amazeballs and bitchin’.

Hang on to your child like nature, be curious and learn; gaining knowledge is not a bridge you want to burn.

Live the life you want not one you think you should, always be kind and bask in the starlight of the good.

Every leaf much fall from the tree in order for the seasons to alter, change is inevitable and we all sometimes falter.

Remember all bad and good show up one, two, three; so take everything on the chin and just be happy.


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“The world’s a playground. You know that when you are a kid, but somewhere along the way everyone forgets it.” – Yes Man (2008)

Just like…

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Maybe it’s like that first stretch in the morning.

The one that starts at the centre and sends tingles to your fingers and toes as it expands. It radiates out and sometimes makes you like headed.

….you know what I mean?

Spring was colder

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I felt the cold more that day. It clung to me like wet clothes and gave me the sting of static in my fingers. But still the numbness of my nose and the rest of my body could not cover the the colour that danced inside me.

Beginning Buds

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I waited longer than I needed to. Not sure if it was down to stubbornness or hope, more the later I suspect. Who knew someone could be hopeful and hopeless at the same time.