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24.01.2022 A little poem for racing fans after a glorious day on the mountain. What an amazing race (even though Lowndsy didn’t win). The king of the mountain I have often wondered,... And I wonder once again, What it is that breeds a racer, From the ranks of mortal men. To race upon the mountain, One thousand k’s around, Tyres screeching at their limits, Racing near the speed of sound. One hundred and sixty one laps they race, More than six hours at the wheel, Across the top and down the straight, Driving by pure feel. The sound of car on concrete, Rings out through the race, Then flashing orange lights appear, To slow the racing pace. But more than drivers win this race, This mighty mountain duel, With laps to go it come down to, The pit stops and the fuel. Tacticians there behind the scenes, Watch read outs all day long, And one mistake in what they see, Can make it all go wrong. The laps count down, the crashes mount, The pressure reigns supreme, Which team now holds the drivers, Who will win their mountain dream, Because, for some, which car they drive, Tells fans who they adore, Which manufacturer wins the race Nissan, Ford or Commodore? And finally the race is won, And the winners name we see, The King of the Mountain holds aloft, The Peter Brock Trophy. The engines still, the hill falls quiet, We give a final cheer And count the days till we come back To the Bathurst Hill next year.



24.01.2022 A friends birthday saw us about to go trekking through the beauty of New Zealand. On our first night, meeting many people for the first time and had many laughs. I wrote and shared this poem, inspired by the laughter in the room and the thrill of the journey ahead. Five glorious days Say goodbye to smelling fresh, say goodbye to showers, ... Say goodbye to TV shows in the weary evening hours, Say goodbye to silent sleep and a casual morning waking, Say hello to all you’ll need in the pack that you’ll be taking. Say farewell to your daily grind, your schedule and your phone, Step out of your busy life as you venture far from home, Days walking within paradise, the wilderness and rain, Will rejuvenate your mind and soul before you see home again. The paths we’ll take and things we’ll see will amaze along the way, What memories we’ll bringing home from Kirsten’s great birthday, So pack your packs and tie your boots, let a smile replace your frown, Five glorious days await us till we get back to Queenstown. Peter McFadyen

24.01.2022 This is unashamedly based on "There's a hole in my sidewalk" by Portia Nelson - one of the most powerful poems I have ever read. I look in the mirror I look in the mirror and what do I see?... Am I happy with who's looking back at me? I decide yes, my look is okay, I have no issues, not me, no way! I take bravado into the world today. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? I decide no, something's not right, My hair won't sit straight and my clothes are too tight! I take discomfort into the world today. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? My thoughts in the future and not on my reflection, My vision is clouded by my introspection. I take uncertainty into the world today. I look in the mirror and what to I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? I am not sure, for when looking at me, Old wrongs and past hurts often cloud what I see. I take pain into the world today. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? I live more in the present, and find bit by bit, The kind of reflection into which I can fit. I take peace in to the world today. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? My reflections now shows the values I live, I see a person I'm prepared to forgive. I take kindness into the world today. I look in the mirror and what do I see? Am I happy with who's looking back at me? I am! I see me! I take acceptance into the world today. I no longer need the mirror! Peter McFadyen

22.01.2022 I have been a closet rap fan since the days of Coolio and then on through Eminem (skipping Vanilla Ice). I have long wanted to have a shot at writing something that bore a resemblance to rap and have long admired the way Eminem can string rapid fire lines together and alternately change the rhyme and have it all fit together and still give meaning. This is my attempt; in some distant homage to Eminem! What is it that I want to be? What is is that I want to be... Is it all, or most of some of me Is it being all that I can be No! That’s just to hard to believe There are parts of me I’ll keep and leave A few small tricks left up my sleeve Till I’m reborn or find a way To wake up on some future day With all past troubles swept away Allowing me to be right here With every though and every fear And keeping those I want quite near Not just the good for now I find That if I leave sad thoughts behind They soon appear so they remind That not all life is good or fair That along with laughter comes despair As naturally as breathing air And just as needed in my life We must have both success and strife Both single and with man or wife Each morning when at first we wake The day’s intention we must make Or others choose what we must take From this day into this nights sleep Where thoughts and dreams surrender deep And then become the thoughts we keep To shape our mood the next day long Like some sweet, half remembered song That’s keeps us right where we belong Unless we choose the path we walk And make the right turn at the fork And listen to no other’s talk For if we want the choice to be Then all we need to do you see, is ask; What is it that I want to be? See more



22.01.2022 Our changing lives I believe that any major change in our lives takes time. Some can be measured in months but many can be measured in years. As I have gone through major changes myself in the last few years it struck me that the change a person goes through can be reflected in the changes a tree goes through as the seasons of the world unfold around it. At times internally focused, at times bare and seemingly bereft of hope, at times showing growth and change but at all ti...mes beautiful. In my mind the first step of change is like the coming of autumn, trees slow down a little, they look into themselves and prepare to change and brace for a few challenging times ahead. But as they focus internally they also show their true colours and look wonderful as they change, celebrating the end of that part of their lives. For this to occur means facing the truth of who we are. Then things really slow down on the surface but inside a lot is going on. The tree is repairing and preparing, it is using its reserves to fix itself and prepare itself for the season it knows is coming. It cares little about how it looks outside because this is a time of internal focus. It knows this is necessary and it is comfortable in its need. For this to occur we must accept the truth of who we are and discover how we fit into the world. Then comes spring. The tree puts forth new growth. Now the world sees the benefit of that slow period, the amazing change supported by the internal preparation. The tree shows itself to the world in its new face and is proud and content and beautiful again (in a different way). It says to the world I am me and I am living my purpose; but it has not yet met its full potential. For this to occur we must let go of our version of the past and the unwritten future and live each day within our values. Then comes summer. We now see a tree full and mature. Its leaves are dark and strong, to look at it you see strength, power and serenity but also flexibility and utility, for now it provides shelter from heat and predator alike. It beckons with its purpose and says come to me for I am happy and I will help you bring forth life and enjoy that life. This is the product of the previous three stages. In our lives this means that we know who we are, we accept who and where we are and we live to experience each day to its fullest and help those around us. And then our lives change again and we react to that change and may need to consolidate and draw our power inwards as we respond to the changing world around us and that is good. For at the end of that period we again come forth and show our new selves and meet our new purpose until the next change. The seasons come and go in their own time. They can't be rushed and they must each run their course and fulfil their purpose before we can move on to the next stage. There is no start, there is no end, there is just change and growth and that is a happy and a balanced life. :))

21.01.2022 With a Federal Election looming large, now comes the public's chance to have our very occasional say in who will lead the country. I've performed a quick analysis of the last ten years in Australian politic's and offer the following as a source of enlightenment and election poetry. I hope you enjoy! Seven PM’s in just ten short years Seven PM’s in just ten short years,...Continue reading

20.01.2022 I am me. I am me. I am imperfect. There are things I will fix and things I’d just love to fix but never will. ... I have weaknesses and strengths and I will make the most of them to have the best life possible for the longest possible time. I need none but myself to be complete but that does not mean that I will not welcome another. I am a part of the world and I welcome my part in it. I am happy owning my own path and I am content! I am me. See more



20.01.2022 My Ode to a Bunnings Onion has been included in a show put together by Mike Williams on the History Listen on ABC Radio. The show, entitled The unauthorised history of the sausage sizzle and is a light hearted look at this simple ceremony which has become a centrepiece of our society. I invite you to listen and amid the laughs and insights you will get parts of my Ode read by no less a personage than the legendary John Laws himself. https://www.abc.net.au/radiona/programs/the-history-listen/

19.01.2022 His hands tell his story His hands once so strong now swollen and bent, A life time of working has wrought its own change, To build and to grow is all he has known, ... This lifetime of work he would not exchange. Pieces shaped and forged and hammered with will, To build a future for family, those grown and those young, And though his strength is now failing and he often needs help, He continues to build on what he has begun.

19.01.2022 We all know that Vegemite is best enjoyed in small doses - and I’m sure we all know people who fit the same category! Here’s one for them! We all have one mate, who’s not all that great, And who gets on your nerves pretty quick, He’s mostly okay at the end of the day,... It’s just that he seems a bit thick. You don’t call him a friend because in the end, He’s a pain in the arse after twenty, In small doses he’s great, he’s a Vegemate And a little of him is just plenty!

18.01.2022 It seems that this year has been a series of losses and challenges for many of us. Recently I had to give back one of my oldest and dearest friends and a fortnight ago my as yet unborn third granddaughter left us to return to heaven. Though we never had the chance to hold her physically, we learned to love her early and deeply and gave her all the love and energy that we could. It seems though that the path she was destined to walk was a brief but powerful one. In her sho...rt life she gave us many gifts and we will do our best to honour them throughout our lives. This one is for Emma, a powerful name for a powerful young girl; daughter, sister and granddaughter. Letting go (We only wish to thank you) I know that I must let you go if you are to be free, A tiny body, poorly formed but still special to me, My third grandchild never touched, though held deep within my heart A tiny hand I never held before we had to part. The 10th of July a day which will now always hold our pain, Though you’re no longer with us, our love for you remains, Your path was short but many gifts you gave us in your time, I’d give them all to hold you in my hands, not just my mind. Sprinkle was your nickname earned at the time of your first scan, Emma Jane your name would be, had we held you in our hands, And we wear marks upon our skin, from all the tears we’ve cried, And we wear marks upon our skin, to see your memory never dies. But your gifts are there for all of us who shared the path you walked, A closeness and a gentleness in our words and in our thoughts, A faith now rediscovered, a deepened bond ‘tween a man and wife, A family drawn together through your brief but powerful life. And what is it we wish for you, for the gifts we have received, A life so short and painful that it could not be conceived, We wish only to thank you and for you to know our love, As we who wait behind you, send you to your home above.

18.01.2022 I have had the remarkable opportunity to spend three weeks in India, to have some time for health and recovery and to open up possibilities to discover future paths. As my thoughts have become clearer during that time the repeated message I was given was that action, application, ownership, investment and execution were key to successfully finding a way forward. My ultimate goal came down to something quite simple in the end - to live the best life I can live for as long ...as I can live it! In order to do so though, I realised that I will need to step out of dreams and into action and so the following poem was born describing what my alternative would be. I hope you enjoy it. FaceBook lives and fantasies I lay here thinking, dreaming of the futures I may have, But no matter what I think, I just can’t solve this overnight, I toss and turn and get no sleep as futures do unfold, Thank goodness that within my dreams, everything’s just right. All that energy I use each night winning victories in my head, Gaining stardom, fame and fitness through the pictures in my mind, All these battles won and pleasure gained as I lie here in my bed, Then I look around each day and feel I’m being left behind. Why won’t my fantasies come true, it’s as if they are not real, Though I swear that I feel pain and joy as they run within my head, But no matter at the victories won and the pleasure that I feel, It simply disappears the moment I get out of bed. It’s as if the world is saying that just dreaming’s not enough, That I’ll have to do much more than that to to have my dreams come true, That I’ll need to take some action, put some effort in and try, That the outcomes in my life will all come down to me - not you. That I’ll need to take some ownership, work quite hard along the way, If I hope to see reality in the dreams I have each night, That through sweat and application will my dreams finally come true, And if I feel them drift away to not give up without a fight. Surely that just can’t be true, that’s not what FaceBook says, All my friends are living fairy tales, without fear or dread, I think I know the answer, I know just where dreams come true, So now I’ll say goodnight to you and drift back off to bed. For there I’m safe from harm and every tale I tell comes true, There is no risk of failure, nothing harms me here at all, And though nothing really changes and my life just stays the same, I can live my dreams, take paths unknown and never fear the fall. And, as for so many, that will do; this is how I’ll live my life, I gain each night the pleasures that my real life does not give, And I do each day as I must until once again I dream, And in FaceBook lives and fantasies, forever I will live.



17.01.2022 I had the chance to catch up with a friend tonight to speak of freedom and travel, of poetry and art and of the gift she has given herself to step out of her life and spend some time just being and not doing. We spoke of our own expectations and the conditioning of society which drives us always to achieve and to do and how, even when you feel relaxed and at ease, your mind mutters along in the background goading you back into that busyness. From that chat this poem was ...born. A poem of life and freedom, of finding and releasing, of sitting with and in, of allowing to be and possibly of becoming a human being instead of a human doing! So I invite you all to slow your pace a little. Imagine a softly chuckling stream or the morning wind coming across the paddock to sway the trees and bring the birds to life. Feel the sun upon your skin and know the happinesss that is to be alive - and know that your life to now is as it has been and that tomorrow’s life is yours to choose. But to pause But to pause and take the time, To still the drive within your mind, To do, to do, to do and then to do again, Though the doing is the enemy of self; and not the friend. To take the time to sit and breathe and feel the morning air, Your focus resting on what is - and not what isn’t there, To be content with being and not just having to achieve, To step back from a life from which you thought you’d never leave. But treating that with kindness as both you and it deserve, Accepting pain and happiness without favour or reserve, Knowing that your life to here, a path you had to take, A step towards your knowing self and not some great mistake. And just to sit; in happiness, in comfort or despair, To be always with company, though with an empty chair, To live each day breathing life deep into your soul’s core, And allow yourself the time and space; this life now to explore.

17.01.2022 Many cultures over the years have called to the four winds for assistance. Acknowledging their powers of birth, growth, change and destruction. Often only one would be called to but in times of great need a call would go to the four winds for assistance. This invoked all of the aspects required to successfully bring about change in a persons life. I sing to the four winds A song of cleansing and rebirth... A song of acceptance and honesty A song of change and growth A song of ending and beginning I sing a song of me - and the winds answer See more

17.01.2022 After weeks of work around the house I realised that my calorie burn was falling behind my calorie intake. Working in the house is fine but my chosen exercise is trekking with a pack on and that has been sadly lacking from my life recently - as my ever expanding waistline shows. Heading out in daylight I got to the turnaround point and realised that in needed a little sit down to build up the reserves needed to get back to my car. While resting, the sun silently slipped b...elow the horizon and I made my way back by guesswork and the light on my phone. A chance WhatsApp’s conversation as I was sitting in my car post walk inspired the following. I hope your waistline’s are faring better than mine. Fitness and Covid-19 I wonder where my fitness is, where did my fitness go, I am a mountain climber, I’m a fit bloke don’t you know, But now as I look down to where my waist could once be seen, I know my downfall’s beer and pizza - and Covid-19. It used to be so easy once to get out and do stuff, To walk a beach or find a trail to hike - easy enough, And then there came restrictions and the 5 big reasons why And the routine that gave me fitness all at once began to die. I can’t do exercise inside; it really isn’t me, Doing yoga on my lounge room floor; the instructor on TV, Or setting up my road bike on my trusty old wind trainer, And watch a Tour de France replay - for me there’s nothing lamer! If I’m inside and it’s day’s end and the TV is quite near, The two things that are calling me are pizza and cold beer, And I’ll have you know my will power is right up there with the best, But my won’t power’s sadly lacking; I’m no stronger than the rest. So after weeks of doing nothing I headed out upon the track, Broad daylight when I left and dark as hell when I got back, What mountain did I climb you ask, what epic challenge did I best, I just walked up a local hill and then sat down for a rest. After weeks of doing nothing it seems my fitness is no more, I need a new subscription just to activate my core, So I’ll sit down now and have a beer and remember all I’ve been, And plan how to get fit again - post Covid-19!

17.01.2022 A moment of clarity through a day gone wrong. The realisation that I own my own choices even when I allow others to make them for me. As the skies open up above me and a day out of synch comes to a close, I love the clarity that life brings when you expect it least and need it most. All paths once open This time this body at an end... All things believed must come to close The path before me yet unkown Future’s questions does life pose. All paths once open now transformed History’s shell now cast aside Humbly seeking answers full Life without hubris or pride Open now to changes brought Through futures sought, though fear held still Allowed to walk through fields unknown Acquiesced though not my will And where now to? This question asked Answers held now out of view Though once a whole now seperate parts Broken down to me and you And now I come to own my choice Though fear to choose had held me back Each day holds now both joy and pain I walk upon an open track

16.01.2022 Outrage overtook Australia when Bunnings changed the position of the onion on the bun due to safety concerns. I couldn't help but wonder what the poor onion thought about the whole thing! Ode to a Bunnings onion I am a Bunning’s onion... My life was once quite grand, I’d get to look at everything As you held me in your hand. Looking out the drivers window Or at the people you would greet, All these scenes unfolded Up upon my sausage seat. Sometimes I would be blinded Smothered by that sauce so red, Or a squeeze of yellow mustard Soaked up by the fresh white bread. But now my life’s just not as good As it used to be, For my view is now constricted By the snag on top of me. And why you ask have things so changed, Why did my status drop? It’s all because some Gympie bloke Trod on me and went flop! So I’ll fade into obscurity Underneath some dodgy meat, Now that Bunning’s changed the way We eat our weekend treat. But please do not forget me Now I’m down out of the way, And now and then lift up that snag And smile and say G’day! I’ll still be just as tasty Cooked so caramel and rich, I’m just not as important Since becoming Bunning’s B#tch! Peter McFadyen

14.01.2022 As seems to be my way recently I’ll follow a light hearted poem with something more closely felt. The reason I was painting my poetry inspiring (and bug attracting) door, is that we are selling our home and moving on. In order to do that I am transforming something that was a home full of marks and memories, laughter and love, pain and promise, into something that is saleable and soulless - but hopefully quite marketable. And so if it is no longer my home .... then it’s ...only a house! It’s only a house It’s only a house, Four walls or more, Light streaming through windows, A never locked door. Bought twelve years ago now, To live in when our hair was grey, A beach house really but so much more, A place I’ll leave now any day. Just bricks and mortar, paint and wood, Becoming a house when it was once a home, And one by one my family have gone, And I sit now silent and feeling alone. We visited first when she was not yet my wife, A promise made then that we’d dwell in this place, Thirty years of hope now stilled in our hearts, A life long journey I am yet to replace. Work being done to prepare it for sale, Into something I’ll sell now without regret, No longer the home of our laughter and love, The old house looking the best it has yet. And how to walk away from this wonderful place, Which has heard kids and grandkids laughter and tears, Where we’ve grown first together an now far apart, But supported each other through triumph and fears. So I wonder inside, if it is just a house, Why the pain and the heartache to leave it behind, Every mark is a memory of years now long gone, And I’m yearning and fearing the life I will find. But fearing or yearning the days will not slow, And soon these four walls will be left behind, In the best of condition for another to own, To house them as they grow, their future to find. For once I leave here then we’ll truly be gone, A daughter, two sons, myself and my spouse, And this place will no more be our lovely beach home, And I’ll say to myself that it’s only a house!

13.01.2022 I find myself, like many others, making the most of the isolation thrust upon us by taking the time to do some work around the house. My final task for the day was to paint the new door for the shed and then I’d have the chance to down tools and enjoy a cold beverage after this, the most recent of many long days. No sooner had I set the door upon the sawhorses and applied the initial roller of gloss than the first of many little black bugs dove into the waiting paint. Ho...Continue reading

12.01.2022 As a young boy I was introduced to poetry to help resolve a speech impediment. To my never ending joy I was given a book of Poetry by Pam Ayers and my love of poetry was born. A chance comment by one of our fellow trekkers on the night of our return brought this poem into being. The style of this poem comes from Pam's 1975 poem "I am a dry stone waller." An awkward walker I am an awkward walker, awkward walking’s what I do, ... If you like awkward walking, then I’ll awkward walk with you. Just shorten up your calf muscles and cramp up in your thighs, Have blisters on your blisters and to no-body’s surprise, You’ll soon be awkward walking, bent and hobbled like a pro, And we will awkward walk wherever awkward walker’s go! Peter McFadyen

11.01.2022 I am currently reading "Chasing Slow" - a book by Erin Loechner. It is a haunting account in which I have so far discovered some chilling similarities and have also gained some wonderful insights which have both given me pause and caused me to smile as I find a truth which I can apply. One such line was "Love is not a given - it's a gift!" This gave me the opportunity to recognise the many simple things that occur in my life which I have taken for granted as a normal part... of life, or which have shaken my perception of just how deep love really is. From something as simple as having my granddaughter slip her tiny hand into mine as we cross the road, the wonderfully thoughtful gifts I receive from my daughter-in-law which show an amazing insight into what is truly important to me, the ability to reach out and share some simple news or the sound of laughter coming from another room. From this came the following poem which may hopefully allow you a chance to peel back the layers of your own 'normal' and see the love which underlies those actions. Love is not a given it’s a gift! Love is not a given, it’s a gift, a simple smile that fills your heart with light, a chance to be a part of something more, a place of safety deep within the fight. A blissful morning, waking with a smile, to hold and laugh and love and to adore, to see the world is perfect as it is, to live that moment never needing more. The sound of laughter shared between your sons, at humour only family really shares, A Love you as they walk out through the door, words that ease the burden of your cares. A night of footy shared with one you love, who came into your life not long ago, who sees, and knows and gives her gifts with care, and through her caring lets her feelings show. A tiny hand that slips into your grasp, finding comfort in the strength that they perceive, a chance to grow into the man they see, to be all of what both you and they believe. Sadness with an unexpected turn, the fear of facing family’s bitter grief, receiving back instead a welcome hug, tears now of acceptance and relief. A call to one who shared your ups and downs, even though you both now live apart, she knows you best of all who share your world, and forever holds a place within your heart. Each occurrence simple on its own, each a gift of love in its own way, each adds meaning to the life you live, and gives you strength and helps you find your way.

06.01.2022 Possibly the best write up I’ve ever received. Love your work guys.

06.01.2022 I have had the absolute pleasure of collaborating with a friend of mine on a project to bring my poetry to life. I had seen the work of my friend, and incredibly talented artist, Linda Nolan and asked her if she had ever painted a poem. I had written a poem when my dear friend Cilla died and I felt there was more to be said. Linda read my poem and then, when she believed she had truly understood the poem she began to paint. Linda had a totally free hand in the painting a...nd I cannot think how she could have done any better. Interestingly, from many hundreds of kilometres apart, we both selected the same colour palette and some key parts of the structure of the painting. This is the level of understanding she has; and then to be able to bring that to life on the canvas is a gift and a skill that astounds me. Here they are in combination and I cannot think of a better pairing. The love held between friends If only I had all of my if only’s once again, that which once was never done would now be done again, the earth would revolve once around the sun and back again, and time would bring you back to me once more and only then, I’d get to say all of the I love you’s never said, and once again you’d stand before me living and not dead. But life that way does not work nor will it now work the same, past discussions never had will now be had again, the beginning will not alter though it will not change the end, for always you’ll be with me and you will remain my friend, and our time now becomes endless though your time with me now ends. And I’d once more say I love you in the language between friends, and somewhere in the future, the past will make amends, our concerns will fade to memories of a time which never ends, and I’ll know that even death can’t end the love held between friends.

06.01.2022 I lost a great mate today. We’ve been mates for about 40 years and she has always been kind, thoughtful, patient and helpful - and a whole lot of fun to boot. To be loved by her was to be loved by her whole family and you were always welcome in their homes any time day or night. Though I’ll never have the joy of hearing her say hey kiddo again, I am glad she is finally at peace and has finished her long battle with cancer and that when she died she had one of her closes...t mates with her. She leaves behind a lot of friends and a lot of happy memories. She lived life on her own terms and all through the cancer proved inspirational in her joy of living and her refusal to lay down and die while there was still life to be lived. So here’s to you kiddo, I love you heaps and miss you already. You made the most of every day Your battle fought for many years Time spent knowing pain and tears So many nights in hospital beds Full of tubes and cancer meds. But when we spoke I’d never know That you were there, with nurse in tow You’d laugh and smile and make the best Of whatever was the current mess Your will to live was great to see Often you inspired me To look for pleasure in every way And live a little more each day Your Bali trip, with tubes in place A smile spread wide across your face You lived life to the full each day On your terms, in your own way You changed from your hospital gown Despite the doctors angry frown Don’t worry you said, I won’t be long I’m just popping out to Elton John Then back to your friends place for a rest The support you had there was the best And then when healed you’d head back home For peace and quiet on your own But now no longer will we text Or chat about what you’ll do next And how nothing will get in your way For heaven called you home today And what of us, those left behind It’s up to us I think, to find Some of the spirit with which you lived And laugh and smile, love and forgive For now we sit, sad and bereft Saddened by your sudden death But glad you lived life your own way And made the most of every day.

05.01.2022 Life often presents challenges that give us pause for thought, to re-evaluate the reasons that we do the things we do, to give us a chance to rethink our goals and check in with who we are. Those times are fraught with danger but often present the chance to change and grow and so must be welcomed, so they can bless us with the power of their gift. A brand new day My skin now bears the signs of 50 cycles of the sun,... My mind the joys and sorrows of that time, I have lived a lifetime blessed with both challenges and fun, The life that I have lived is truly mine. I’ve had family to give me strength to grow throughout my life, To grow to be the person I’ve become, I found a girl to love and who once I called my wife, I was blessed along the way with two fine sons. I’ve made mistakes a plenty and many more than once, I’ve had to say I’m sorry on my way, I’ve struggled and I’ve lost just as much as I have won, And owned my actions almost every day. I now begin to journey into times I’ve never seen, My life has thrown a challenge never dreamed, And all that I have worked for has now lost its great appeal, My goals are now not once as they had seemed. And how to start again after 30 years we shared, To rise again from ashes cold and raw, To find a purpose meaningful that rings true to my heart, And venture where I’ve never gone before. Support from all my families will surely see me through, My love for family always fills my heart, And though this is an ending, hope has always been my way, And so I see it as a brand new start. To all who share my journey and who face a brand new path, Don’t choose regret and anger as your way, The end of what you knew is not the ending of your life, It’s simply dawn upon a brand new day.

04.01.2022 Despite my efforts at getting back out on the track in mid May, I find I am slipping further and further behind in the battle with my Covid Spread. This morning as I rolled out of bed I kept right on rolling, in order to find the easiest way down on to the floor - with the aim of racking up a few pushups to kickstart my latest effort at getting fit. After struggling to complete 10 pushups I decided not to risk any more and then lay there for a while contemplating how to ...get to the shower without having to gain my feet! While lying there, this poem came to life as I quietly enjoyed the humour of my latest attempt! The Covid Spread It’s not the spread of covid, It is the covid spread, That nightly do I worsen, And daily do I dread, Through eating meals uncounted, From waking until bed, Cold beers and late night tipples, With a snack of jam and bread. Each morning when I wake up, And slowly move around, It takes a bit more effort, For my feet to touch the ground, From within me comes a rumbling, A truly fearful sound, As it gurgles, shakes and shimmies, In my stomach - Oh so round. And I have the fondest memories, Of looking at my feet, Before the start of covid, When I first commenced to eat, And my shirts are getting bigger, So they cover my deceit, But my weight gain keeps increasing, As another meal I eat. But this morning will be different, It’s the start of something new! The feet I can no longer see, Will wear a different shoe! Exercise is what I need, I know just what to do! For my pre-covid body, So I feel like someone new!! And down I get onto the floor, To sweat my weight away, A smile spread wide across my face, At the start of this great day, 10 push-ups later I collapse, My face a shade of grey, And I lie there for a little while, Till the tingling goes away. Right I say, that is the start, (Once my heart rate starts to quiet) Now I need to follow up, With a healthy, fresh food diet. So I peel an apple and I bite, a piece so I can try it, Then smother it with cinnamon, And syrup - then I fry it! And so feeling fit and healthy, With my sugar rush in place, A smug and healthy grin, Spread across my flaccid face, I’ve done my bit this morning, I caused my heart to race, Now there’s time for one more bite, Before my shoes I try to lace! But by night my knees are hurting, From carrying the load, My blood pressure is higher, My pulse rate it has slowed My belt holes clearly showing, Just where my weight is stowed, Please let us end this Covid, Before my shirts explode! All Knowing One please help me, As I lay down for the night, My weight gain is a battle, Which I just can’t seem to fight, Please help me with my struggles, Please help to make it right, Now excuse me for a late night snack, So I can sleep tonight!

02.01.2022 This poem is simply on the joy of my morning meditation and the joy it beings to my life. On Morning Meditation Journeying inwards, searching for answers, ... My thoughts echo loudly within time as it dances, Thoughts spinning and whirling beyond my control, Shifting, transforming, yet never quite whole. Slowing my breathing and so calming my core, My thoughts slow their spinning, widening more, Till I hear all around me, the noise of the day And then slowly I centre and it all fades away. Then within my stillness my senses awake, Aware of each heartbeat, each breath that I take, My blood flowing freely, the pulse in my veins, As I journey within, to a place with no name. For here I am me, no mask do I wear, Thoughts and opinions fade away without care, I accept all off me, wrought through courage and strife, Dispassionately viewing, my passionate life. My senses returning as slowly I stir, My thoughts now controlled, no longer a blur, My soul's self acceptance I carry along To enrich this days living, my heart filled with song. Peter McFadyen

02.01.2022 End each day with laughter I was sitting with my family on Monday night, where we were focussing our thoughts on a loved one and sending health and happiness to them. It is a practice steeped in ritual, religion and science and, even if it doesn’t work, it’s a lovely way to spend 10 minutes - to focus on someone being healthy and happy - and also lovely to share something so positive with your family. And it got me to thinking that to end each day on a positive note is pro...bably something that once again should become a normal part of my life, no matter what troubles filled the day. So I invite to you end each day with a little laughter and love, a dose of understanding and maybe event a little gratitude for those things in your day which went well. End each day with laughter End each day with love Know each day’s a precious gift Given from above End each day with cuddles End each day with a kiss No matter what has happened Contentment starts with this End each day by sharing Just a little bit of fun End each day as if it were Your last under the sun. No matter what the issues Or who has been involved To end each day with happiness Should be your firm resolve That way your day ends peacefully With love filling your heart And sets up tomorrow morning To be happy from the start

02.01.2022 This poem was brought to life by the passing of one of my dearest and oldest friends. A person who helped me shape who I have become in the world and who helped me to learn that love comes in many forms and cares little for station, looks or popularity, but only for kindness, compassion and understanding. Through life I have often held back in saying something for fear of being too open or of taking a risk that what I say in kindness may be taken otherwise - and sometimes... just through self doubt. And in the end I have only ever regretted a kindness never shown and a love never revealed. In the words of Jonathan Livingstone Seagull But overcome space, and all we have left is Here. Overcome time and all we have left is Now. And in the middle of Here and Now, don’t you think that we might see each other once or twice? So I hope that perhaps with this final lesson my dear friend has taught me, I will now say things I have never been brave enough to say outside of my own head, and to hold the hand of a friend in understanding and compassion. And perhaps also that, in some future time, somewhere in the middle of Here and Now, I may yet see my dear friend again. . . The love held between friends If only I had all of my if only’s once again, that which once was never done would now be done again, the earth would revolve once around the sun and back again, and time would bring you back to me once more and only then, I’d get to say all of the I love you’s never said, and once again you’d stand before me living and not dead. But life that way does not work nor will it now work the same, past discussions never had will now be had again, the beginning will not alter though it will not change the end, for always you’ll be with me and you will remain my friend, and our time now becomes endless though your time with me now ends. And I’d once more say I love you in the language between friends, and somewhere in the future, the past will make amends, our concerns will fade to memories of a time which never ends, and I’ll know that even death can’t end the love held between friends.

02.01.2022 After trekking the Routeburn and Capels tracks in New Zealand, and to bring the journey full circle, I wrote this poem to share on our final fun filled night back in the bright lights of Queenstown. The Hidden Longing Five days spent in paradise, the wilderness and rain, ... Seeing things that few have seen, that photos can’t explain, Five days spent with just a pack holding all we own, Five days spent with twenty friends, both old and newly grown A birthday tramp through wilderness both beautiful and wild, Contemplating nature with the wonder of a child, Each day a different landscape each beautiful and deep An alpine hut each night for laughter, packet meals and sleep A ceremony held at dawn where many tears were shed, To honour ANZAC’s old and new, the living and the dead, Nationals of many lands joined us in oath and prayer Along the shores of an alpine lake in the frozen mountain air So we return to city lights, refreshed, relaxed and clean But deep within our heart of hearts, both silent and unseen Grows longing for a mountain track; with no thought of sweat and pain For five days spent in paradise, the wilderness and rain Peter McFadyen

01.01.2022 A friend of ours likes to take photos of his mother (in law according to Dorothy) in various places and, for the sake of a laugh, she always has a drink in each hand. This poem was to celebrate Dorothy and her willingness to have a laugh. I want to be like Dorothy I want to be like Dorothy,... She’s such a classy dame, Now I’m drinking just like her, My life is not the same. People want to know me now, They want to be my friend, My stories are much funnier, As both elbows I do bend. And with a glass in either hand, The floor I always hold, I tell the same jokes every night, And they just don't get old. Admittedly it’s hard I know, To both drink and eat, When you have a glass in either hand, It really is a feat. And now I’ve mastered drinking two, I’m happy being me, but... #iwanttobelikedorothy And now she’s drinking three! Peter McFadyen

01.01.2022 My You beaut ute! I waited more than 40 years before I finally got my first ute. Through city living, kids, baby seats and booster seats, the need for 7 seats for the footy team and throughout it all I waited patiently - I knew my day would come. Well I’ve owned her for about 8 years now and racked up a lot of k’s, moved hundreds of tonnnes of gear and renovation material. She’s still in pretty good nick but her age is showing and the constant trips on the beach have ta...Continue reading

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