Welcome

Ah, photography, the background passion that lurks within me, capturing moments with my trusty iPhone and giving voice to the inspired musings born of each snap.

Now art I bold, sharing my works and reflections with the world, seeking the thoughts of my fellow man.

Let us see how this tale unfolds, my brother!

May the beat of the drum guide thee, as you browse and make comments, and may my words of poetry lift thee higher.

Rewritten by AI/ChatGPT (in response to rewrite the below in Fela Kuti and Shakespearean Style)

Interesting eh?

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Willow Tree

This poem paints a clear picture of the willow tree and its symbolic meaning. The imagery of the tree being bent out of shape by seasons and afflictions and still standing strong is powerful and relatable. The last stanza gives a sense of hope and encouragement to the reader to learn from the willow tree and to trust in God.

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Old Willow

It is mid 2020,
and I’d just (thankfully) recovered from COVID.

Now I’m struggling with some chronic health condition, severely aggravated by Covid.

Think pain, pain and more pain!
Stopped at a remote tiny park near Upminster in Essex for a rest and came upon this willow tree.

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Nature’s Artistry

Albufeira beach,
Out walking just before dawn,
catching the beauty of the sun rays, bouncing off the rocks,
as the waves gradually recede,
to reveal rocks, that have been so polished over time, (centuries perhaps), making them very slippery to walk upon.

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A New Day

Verily, at Albufeira beach in the Algarve, betwixt Yuletide morn of 2019 and the dawn of a New Year, did a keen-eyed wanderer arise with alacrity.

On a stroll along the shore did this admirer chance, beholding the resplendent vista with wonder, and forthwith capturing its grace through lens and light.

With trainers cast aside, this hearty soul did venture forth, relishing the glow of the risen sun, and feeling the gentle rush of the cool waves wash o’er their feet, as the morning broke in grandeur.

Babs with AI (ChatGPT edits)

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The Path

As I dey come back from my early morning cycling, na im I say make I comot my keke, admire dis place wey dey Hornchurch Country Park.

Na jus me an nature dey o; so I begin waka, as I dey waka, na im I dey enjor wetin I dey see.

So, I begin dey write poetry oh.

A beg, press ‘Read more’ to see am..

(ps d poem na in english … no be pidgin o!)

Enjoy

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