Timbrels and Brushstrokes

Jul 26

Today, I leave you a song.

Timbrels and Brushstrokes

In the quiet of a canvas, a whisper calls my name,

Colors dance like echoes, no two brushstrokes the same.

From heartbeats to horizons, a story starts to weave,

A journey born of courage — in every line, believe.

The timbers hum and bodhrans sing,

Threads of life through every string.

Hogarth’s halls where dreams take flight,

In painted light, day turns to night.

This house holds whispers of those who came before;

Its walls now cradle dreams once more.

Timbrels chime like echoes, ancient and divine,

A fusion of my heartbeat with history entwined.

Ancient winds through gardens play,

Rhythms of ages guide my way.

In every brushstroke, every song,

The Union House of Hogarth, where I belong.

The timbers hum and bodhrans sing,

Threads of life through every string.

Hogarth’s halls where dreams take flight,

In painted light, day turns to night.

May every heart that enters here

Find beauty waiting, year by year.

‘Til next time…

Finding Beauty in the Everyday.

— LHogarth

Lorena Hogarth

Making Room to Flourish