Paper Angel small

Paper Angel.
My daughter, Fairlight.

I Don't Want These Wings small

I Don’t Want These Wings
My son, Warrick.

I wrote this after my children were born.  It’s a true story. Well, poem…


 What is that you ask? What is your question?

A short answer would soon end this lesson,

But that would be unfair, not at all kind

To such a bright and inquisitive mind.

To really relate the answer to you

Requires a narrative long yet still true.

A journey from youth into adulthood

Of times that were bad and those oh so good.

It started at school when I was fifteen.

I met there a girl who triggered a dream.

She seemed to encompass all I desired

And though I was young I felt so inspired.

We drifted apart when school was complete.

Three years did pass before we would meet

Again, then it seemed my dream would come true.

Encouraged by her my dream only grew.

But deceit lived in this woman I loved

And the fists of her lies were soon ungloved,

Punching a hole through my sweet naïve heart.

No longer whole my dream fell apart.

So there poor I was, resigned to my fate,

Scared that I was leaving it much too late

To rebuild my dream with someone who cared.

Then, there she was and our love quickly flared.

She came from the West, mere words on a screen,

The most gorgeous font that I’d ever seen!

What beauty blossomed from that first  “hello”

Took root in my heart and always would grow.

But she was an ocean away from me.

I thought a picture was all I would see,

But courage took hold and shook me awake.

I had to get out for sanity’s sake.

I walked away from a marriage long dead,

I packed up my life, no tears were shed

And flew over an ocean wide and blue

To see if my heart was telling me true.

As our lips touched for the very first time

The world disappeared; I knew she was mine!

As soon as I could I married my heart

And nothing on Earth would keep us apart,

So she took her chances and crossed the sea,

She left her old life to come be with me.

We loved and we lived and happiness bloomed,

Though nay-sayers quipped our true love was doomed.

After a storm and turbulent years

We proved them wrong and stood up to our peers

And when the promise she gave me was kept

The smile inside I would never forget.

The promise of which I fondly refer

Was made when I spoke of my dream to her.

The thing in my life I yearned to achieve

Had bore fruit at last, my soul was relieved.

And so to answer the question you voiced –

My one goal in life, my happiest choice?

Love and have children and watch them grow up,

The sweetest of wines from life’s flowing cup.

Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2008 Jamie F. Leader


Sonnet Number 3


Sonnet number 3


Peace fills the room as water fills a glass

And silence floods me with it’s quiet calm.

But passion lingers, not yet in the past,

While I draw circles on you open palm

With fingers that tremble at memories

Of the fire ignited in passion’s throes,

And pleasure cascades as shivers through me

Like wind caressing the trees as it blows

Through the world – then we gaze at each other

With eyes that are fixed in a tired stare

That’s only ever passed between lovers

After the intimacy they have shared.

So now into sleep’s gentle arms we lay

To dream each other to another day.

  Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2006 Jamie F. Leader

Sonnet Number 2


Smeared Across The Page


I needed some time to reflect on this

So I could work out what had happened here.

The gentle touch followed by searing kiss

That had brought my heart and my soul to bear.

The vivid colours that now drench my sight,

Pulling me on towards oblivion,

Have rendered the whole of my world alive

And impossible to continue on

Without your touch and your kiss for my own,

For, once tasted, there is nothing compared.

And so, here we are, no longer alone,

Always adding to the days we have shared,

And will do so until the end of time,

For you are now, and will always, be mine.

Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2006 Jamie F. Leader

Autumn’s Sonnet

I used to write sonnets.  Wow, that makes it sound like I’ve written quite a few, but the total is maybe between fifteen and twenty.  I used to write a lot of poetry, using different styles.  Some I’ve been told were quite good.  My wife likes them, anyway, and this sonnet I’m going to share with you tonight is for and about her.  My beautiful wife, Autumn.

Contemplation b&w02a

Probably my favourite photograph of my wife, Autumn.

Autumn’s Sonnet

You deserve a sonnet all of your own,

But can these mere words describe your wonder

Like golden leaves on autumn winds are blown

Through woods and groves –  my heart tears asunder

At the thought of you without description.

The idea that you’ll pass through this world

Without a true, adequate depiction

That will allow your beauty to unfurl

Should not be granted either space nor time

To sow its vile seed and then reap the doubt

That would grow from it. Your beauty, sublime,

Should be celebrated – I wish to shout

To the Earth at large, to all that can hear,

That beauty lives in the one I hold dear.

Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2006 Jamie F. Leader

True Love Ways

My wife and I met online.  Not on a dating site or anything like that, but on a forum for an author we both liked (details for another blog, maybe).  She lived in Florida, the “Sunshine State” of America, and I lived in the sunless (some would say) country of England.  Over time we fell in love (aww!), but things, obviously, were a tad difficult (details for another blog, maybe.  Did I just say that?).  Anywho – or anyhoo, you pick – we began chatting over the ‘net via mics on Yahoo Messenger and came up with the wonderful idea of singing to each other.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Singing to each other.  This was before we actually confessed our feelings to each other and I was a little nervous, to say the least.

Autumn went first, as she is a singer after all, and she sang, as a subtle hint, I Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley.  And what a beautiful job she did, too.  It really did bring a tear to my eye, in a very good way.  But it only served to make me even more nervous!  So I began to practice my song, which, if you read the title of this blog, you will know was a Buddy Holly classic.

Well, longish story a bit shorter, I sang it to Autumn the next night and she, too, was brought to tears in a good way, or so she told me.  In other words, my singing wasn’t poor.  All this to tell you that the picture below, though done as part of the year long series of images I created in 2011, was inspired by that period in our lives, before we physically met and had only heard each other cry over 4000 miles of ocean.

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True Love Ways

I Like Being “Liked”

Wooden Heart

Do you like it?  It’s a kind of warm, fuzzy feeling working it’s way up from your toes, enveloping your heart and making your face flush with pride.

Ok, maybe it’s not that warm and fuzzy, but it makes you feel good, doesn’t it, when somebody “likes” what you’ve done.  Whether it be a blog here on WordPress or a particularly inspiring status update on Facebook or a bitingly witty tweet on Twitter or getting featured in a group where you post your images, if you’ve taken the time to produce it, type it or Swype it, it feels good when someone – especially someone you don’t know – takes their time to read it or view it and “like” it.  It’s even better when they click that little button and let you know that they like it.  So, thank you to all those people who have taken the time to look at, read and like my stuff.  You’re great and make it worthwhile.

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