The Written Word Group

                                                         The Gift of Song. The high pitched screech of the Pukeko told me if I didn’t get up soon I would miss the morning chorus. I looked out to see a pair of them, one standing on the others back. “Why do you do that?” I asked, half to myself and half to the long legged New Zealand Hen that I found so entertaining. “Anyway, you guys are going to have to wait until later, I need to get a move on.” I pulled on some clothes, grabbed my back pack and made my way over to The Wattle Track. It was 6.15am and soon the island would be alive with the sounds of birds singing in another day and I was on a mission to find the Kokako. A pair lived on The Wattle Track and I knew approximately which part, so I headed straight there, resisting the urge to stop and take in the beauty of the Hauraki Gulf as it wrapped itself around the island. Sounds came rebounding through the air. A chime, a chirp, a church-bell echo. A few seconds later, another, but

                            Ellen.  Unspoken words left hanging for another time. The chance to hold your hand, gone forever. Your smile as you walk by my side imprinted on my memory. Your expression of love for me never to be heard again. I can't bargain with the universe to give me one more day with you,  I had my chance. In life I didn't tell you enough how much I love you, but in death let me deafen you with the force of my words. Until we hold each other again. Berni, your sister.  

  This is the first post from The Written Word Group Based at the English Library In Albox, Almeria, Spain  Email: thewrittenwordgroup.albox@gmail.com All the graphics on this blog have been created using hotpot.ai