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The poems of John Buxton

Festive Season

A crisp misty morning greets us
‘tis hard to believe
a year has passed
sure enough the festive season
is truly upon us
anticipation, excitement fills the air
as I climb the ladder
into the attic
where in an old dusty shoe box
lie symbols of Christmas
gently wrapped in soft tissue paper
beautiful traditional tree decorations
sparkling colourful glass baubles
bells, garlands, ribbons, an angel.

Christmas past brought to life
reindeer, drummer boy, snowflake
a star, holly, gingerbread man
an antique mirrored crystal bauble
catches my eye
a family favourite and heirloom
twirling in my hand
twinkling in the light
cherished memories are stirred
carol singing and midnight mass
parcels and stockings
tastes and aromas of all things nice
delicious goodies and special treats
smiles, thankfulness and gratitude in abundance.

The festive season is upon us
a time to share in all the loveliness
Christmas card writing, nativity
giving and receiving of special gifts
thinking of others
with wonder and joy
family, friends, colleagues, neighbours, communities
all cultures and creeds at home and across the globe
celebrating a seasonal holiday
in their own unique way
a time of peaceful reflection
of goodwill and kindness
of spiritual unity, of love, light and peace
for everyone this festive season.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

by John Buxton

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I Am More than My Dementia

I am more than my dementia
more than this reflection
gazing back at me in the mirror
I rub my stubbly chin, brush back my fringe
looking deep into my eyes, like marbles, sapphire blue
in this moment I am inquisitive, curious, scrutinising
lines, wrinkles, freckles, a birthmark
how bushy my eye brows are
a scar on the bridge of my nose
each line tells a story, a mystery, a tale
a rich tapestry of a life lived hard and fast
I am more than the lonely face at the window
more than the man I once was.

How I have loved and been loved
known great loss and despair
indelibly linked like a thread to the past
a sea of precious words
float around in my consciousness
many I still want to express, to share, to reveal
adventures, achievements, challenges and failures
never to give up my fight to be present
if only in words of wisdom
like a well-worn classic hardback
how I wish to tell you my life matters
I am more than my dementia
so much more than this reflection in the mirror.

Did I tell you I play the trumpet?
stowed away in the attic
a dusty wooden box hidden in the shadows
did I tell you I have walked and danced many pathways
that I appreciate the arts, adore poetry
and live theatre stirs me to great depths
I love the art of conversation, a social butterfly
still can be when invited, when included
living can be unforgiving and relentless in isolation
hear my voice, tales of a man proud
I can still delight and inspire
hear me play the trumpet
I am so much more than my dementia

by John Buxton

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Snowflakes Gently Floating

Winter has truly arrived
another day window watching
observing the first snowflakes gently floating by outside
glistening white ice crystals
a multitude of shapes and sizes
transform my garden into a dreamlike wonderland
I desire to feel those frozen delicate feathers on my face
to appreciate the beauty and simplicity
of nature's intricate form.

Sheltered warmth and comfort inside
overshadows my love of winter
a hallowed time where Mother Nature sleeps
scattered pine cones, the crisp rustle of leaves
fading to mustard yellow, orange and purple
the rush of cold air like a dragon on breath
the brush of soft wool on skin
steaming hot chocolate, warm spiced mulled wine to share
the anticipation and vibrancy of Christmas fayre.

Put on your hat, scarf, coat and gloves
join me on a winter nature walk
to spot a robin, a squirrel foraging
marvel at the holly bush, swans upon lake and pond
share with me the snowflakes falling
catching crystals cascading from the atmosphere
arms outstretched, head raised high
looking up into a dazzling sky
'tis the season of peace, light and kindness.

One snowflake on my rosy-red cheek
will stir a thousand festive memories of winters past
and in a moment of exhilaration
shape feelings of being truly alive
reigniting a passion for winter's curiosity
let's embrace nature's hibernation together
before the snow melts away
chiming church bells beckon us to venture outside
where the spirit of Christmas and enchantment of nature
are present for all to share and see.

by John Buxton

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Through All Seasons

We created new memories living in the moment
closely bonded in friendship as each season passed we walked many tree-lined pathways
soaking up the healing energy of park life
nature's breath-taking wonders bestowed upon us
we listened to the sounds, embraced the beauty of change
through all seasons summer, autumn, winter, spring
we took shade in the heat of the sun
palms resting upon the tree's cool bark
in soft rains we huddled under the gazebo
waiting patiently for grey skies to pass
in autumn we observed the leaves change
burnt orange, sunflower yellow and ruby red.

We shuffled side by side in the brisk winds of winter
raw elements drawing us ever closer
in the joy of spring we marvelled at the burst of new life
the freshness and hope of trumpet daffodils and fragrant hyacinths
the woody aroma of rosemary and soft touch of lamb's-ear
as we rejoiced wholeheartedly in the walled garden
but most of all we remember how we laughed
and sang harmoniously together in the fresh air
when the warm sun reflected on our happy faces
we celebrated and seized the day
creating new meaningful memories
in synchronicity with the splendour of nature
under the umbrella of kindness and friendship.

By John Buxton

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