Seeker of Sunsets

Just doing my own thing...

[shellymarie]

What would you wish for? 💫

[shellymarie]

It's been 6 long months.

[shellymarie]

Two Paths Meeting

There were two people, each walking their own path,

Moving through life in their own way,

Carrying hopes, dreams,

And stories still being written,

Heading toward a future they could not yet see.

Neither knew that somewhere not too far away,

The other was walking too

Close enough to matter,

But not yet known to one another.

Days unfolded, moments were lived,

And without realising it,

Separate paths began to turn

Toward the same place.

Something unseen was at work,

Gently bringing two people together

At exactly the right time.

One day, they'll be dancing

And of all the places they could stand,

They find themselves together.

And in that simple moment,

A connection is made.

So when a path feels uncertain,

There is comfort in this

There comes a moment

When two hearts meet.

They laugh and they live,

And without effort,

Days fall into place,

And love becomes a steady, quiet presence.

A connection so natural

That the weight of the world eases,

Like two pieces of a puzzle

Finding where they belong.

They come to feel like home to one another.

Two paths have joined,

And from that moment on,

They walk forward together.

Through calm and through challenge,

They choose to keep walking together.

And that choice

Made quietly,

And made again and again

Is what brings everyone here today.

Because love is not found in a single moment,

But in the choosing.

In showing up.

In standing together.

In walking forward, hand in hand.

And in every step,

They carry this promise:

To love, to support,

To laugh, and to grow together

Not just for today,

But for all the days to come.

A wedding reading about two people, each on their own journey, unaware that their paths are about to cross and join forever 💕

[shellymarie]

[shellymarie]

Not Just A Place

This is not just a place

How can that be?

When the warmth of the sun

wraps its arms around me.

A glowing embrace that

reflects off the sea,

it ripples with gold

and it sets my soul free.

This is not just a place.

Oh, that can't be true —

scattered sugar-spun clouds

on a canvas of blue.

Cool lapping waves

breathe in and breathe out,

singing songs to the pebbles,

all tan, grey, and white.

This is not just a place.

It's a note in a song.

It sings to me

like a bird to the dawn.

As the sun rises and sets,

in this place, I'm in awe

of the gold and the orange

and the peace that it draws.

This is not just a place.

It's a feeling of home.

The salt air wraps my body

and lightens my bones.

When my bones turn to dust,

I'll return to this land.

I'll fly into the breeze

and lie with the sand.

Inspired by a place that brings me deep peace.

[shellymarie]

The True Origin Of Music

Where does music really come from?

Planet Earth 🌎 — home to billions of people. We’re all the same species, yet so vastly different from one another. Different shades of skin, hair, and eyes; but even more so, different perceptions, ideas, and desires on the inside.

As for me, I’m a sensitive soul, a wonderer. A mistaken extrovert. I love the quiet, the stillness, the pull of nature.

I drift between searching for answers and accepting that I may never find them. But in all the wondering, there’s one thing that almost feels like an answer.

Music — now there, I’m certain, lies a link to something existential. Like many fellow music lovers, I don’t just hear it — I feel it.

My genre? Music that comes from the soul. Forget auto-tune. Lyrics that pour from someone’s depths, a melody so effortlessly beautiful it feels born, not made. And then — the goosebumps. A raw voice that reaches straight into your chest, an instrument played like an extension of the person playing it. This is the kind of music that makes time stop. And still, I can’t understand how it comes from us — from humans. The same humans who carry ego, who hurt each other. How can something so achingly beautiful, so utterly breathtaking, be created by a person?

I can’t begin to comprehend it. It must be sent from somewhere else—somewhere beyond us. I don’t know where, but it’s the only thing that’s ever made me feel the presence of something greater— a vast, unseen force, timeless and infinite. Surely, it doesn’t come from us alone?

[shellymarie]

Scottish Highlands

The land of peace and breathtaking beauty.

I did the NC500 in a campervan and it did not disappoint.

[shellymarie]

Garden Moments

Haiku string

Sun with clouds and shade

leaning oak with ivy coat

whispers in the breeze

A house on a tree

busy little bird, always

lovely company

The distinctive hum

of metal wings fades into

an echoing song

Dashing red tulip

stands tall for the humming bee

soon the petals fall

[shellymarie]

Etched In The Grain

A poem about walking life's journey and losing loved ones along the way.

Life’s journey,

with its path

like branches of a tree.

When the trunk stood tall,

at the first bough,

you left me.

Just one call

and you were gone.

The first to leave,

your silence drawn.

I felt the loss,

but not the pain;

grief was something

I couldn’t yet name.

And yet,

I have the feeling still:

that I love you,

and always will.

You carried joy —

a scent of flora,

wrapped in light,

with a lavender aura.

And now

I reach the second branch:

here was a wound

no hand could stanch.

With warm, tender hugs,

soft strawberry-blonde hair,

an unspoken closeness

now gone from thin air.

As my journey continues

along the cracking bark,

while you should have walked with me,

your body could not.

Your last breath,

seconds missed —

this loss was immense.

And even with knowing,

how could this make sense?

I watched you suffer,

your life fade to dust.

But you are within me,

and carry I must.

A protector, provider —

I owe you so much.

I can still hear you laughing

and feel our last touch.

I wish I had asked more,

heard more of your jokes.

I’ll never forget that Welsh lilt

when you spoke.

As I creep through the branches,

the leaves lush and green,

you were fighting a battle —

the longest I’ve seen.

Thanks for the good times,

for the space just to be.

We danced like no one was watching,

and that stays with me.

Too young to leave us,

you let go of the fight

and were lifted away

on soft wings into light.

Each leaf is a memory,

an echo of time.

As they fall with the season,

they’ll always be mine.

Now you were a traveller

with stories to tell —

tales of gorillas and trekking;

you could never sit still.

Perhaps, deep down,

you were lonely,

but you didn’t dwell.

I loved hearing your stories.

I’ll remember you well.

That familiar Welsh lilt,

so easy, so free —

a leather-clad rider,

a wonder to me.

Your journey ended far from home,

in a land your heart had flown.

I’m sorry I could not see you go.

I wonder if your soul still roams.

Forever grateful for your last gift,

although bound by rules I couldn’t bend.

But in its place, you left me kin

a truer gift

than you could ever send.

I’ve climbed rather high now,

and oh, what a view.

If I close my eyes tightly,

I can see you

on that beautiful mountain

your spirit flew —

the most positive soul,

so glad that I knew.

A twinkle for life,

buried under the snow.

Your sentiment lives on

while my branches grow.

Your time was brief,

but it blazed and it shone.

I'll carry your magic

and make it my own.

Why I get to climb

and you had to fall

is something that I know nothing at all.

But for now, it’s just me —

yet I don’t walk alone.

I can feel you all in the roots, wind and stone.

Many fruits my tree offers,

and still ripe they can be —

ripe with the many ways

you’ve all touched me.

I had no choice in you leaving,

so I carry on.

But you are etched in the grain,

and can never be gone.

Dedicated to my dear dad, nan & nanfer, auntie Bev, auntie Sue, Fliss, Uncle Phil, Sam. Too many lost. May you all rest in peace 🙏