My name is…

I am ever-flowing, never changing
I am strong and dependable
My name is…

I sound like a rushing wind
And a distant whisper
I sound like a lion’s roar
And a flutter of wings
My name is…

I restore and revive
I break down obstacles
My name is…

I can be tiny, indistinguishable
I can be so huge I cannot be crossed
My name is…

My name is love

Before anything began, I was love
As you take this breath, I am love
When everything dies, I will still be love

My love can’t be drowned out
It can’t be put out
It can’t be shut up

You can ignore me but you can’t stop me from existing

I’m here, I’ll always be here
Waiting for you to see me
And let me do what I do best…

Love you for eternity!

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Promise Like a Cloud

It’s been a while since I posted anything on this blog and I have to admit that I’ve missed it. I’ve been worse off without it because, for me, this space a is an outlet – an expression on my inner longings, joys, struggles and hopes.

Does anyone else find that if they don’t express their creativity, they explode? I do, and it’s not a pretty explosion of coloured paint but a messy outpouring of unspoken emotions, good and bad mixed up in a swirl of tangled string.

Well that’s why I’m back and why I’d like to get back on track with a poem I’ve spent the last few months working on. Promises are important, but more often than not, they are seemingly out of reach, fleeting and beyond hope. I have seen over the last year, though, that there is great power in promise and the hope that it brings, as long as that hope is built on the right thing.

This work is been close to my heart, which is maybe why it has probably taken me longer to get to this point:

Promise Like a Cloud

Promise like a cloud
Just hanging there
About to burst.

It’s like a whispered thought
Brooding over the earth
Ever transcient, ever transforming
But constant, steady, dependable.

How will the promise reveal itself?
Through a swirling storm?
Through refreshing rain?
In chinks of colour?
In a stream of sun?
Only the clouds can tell.

Promise like a rainbow
Up above our heads
There but not quite.

Like an apparition
Sometimes hard to perceive
Coming and going, shining through haze
Offering hope, a glimmer of joy.

What will this promise reveal to us?
Through dreary darkness?
Through timeless torrents?
With golden glimpses?
With heavenly hope?
Only the rain will show.

Vicky Osborn, May 2016

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A love letter written in skies

This morning, whilst taking in the wonder of a perfect vanilla-sky sunrise, I suddenly realised something…

My journey to work heads east, so that in the Autumn months, when it gets light later, I journey towards the sunrise. And in the evening, as the light fades, I am facing the most amazing, varied and sometimes blinding sunsets!

Knowing that the skies, actually the painter of skies, speaks to me through colours and light – God saw it fit to bless me morning and evening with a 30 minute, front-row seat.

Last night, when driving home, it was the calm skies after a pretty big storm and the sunset was spectacular. Not in the typical ‘sky on fire’ way but in a ‘sun playing peek-a-boo’ way. Hiding and then coquettishly sending light bursts from behind dark channels of cloud, giving those imposing clouds a golden halo and proving that no matter how things may appear the sun is always shining.

I know scientifically that the sun is a massive ball of raging chemical explosions. I know that it’s the earth’s atmosphere, weather and magnetic fields that cause the sky to be coloured in an infinite array of combinations. Somehow, the world tells me that it can take the ‘magic’ out of seeing a sky painting as it changes with each moment.

But show me one person who doesn’t take just a moment to gaze at the beauty of a colourful sunrise or dramatic sunset.

The ‘facts’ of science make the ‘mystery’ of the sky painter even more awe-inspiring, even more magical. Twin that with the knowledge of a creator that formed the rules of physics so that he could paint the sky each day – well, how amazing!?

I tried to take a photo last night, pulled the car over safely and the spectacle disappeared. I carried on driving and moments later when I was somewhere I couldn’t pull over, the spectacle came back and in my heart I heard this: ‘ This is just for you, just hold it in your heart,’ and my heart swelled with joy!

Only this morning to have to have it swell again as a new painting took shape before my eyes. And this morning, written clear as day in the sky was a love letter.

by Vicky Osborn

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Unsung heroes of Bletchley Park

Last weekend I had the pleasure of visiting a really special place: Bletchley Park

For those of you who recognise the name but can’t quite put your finger on why, here’s a brief summary:

In 1938 Hitler was proving to be a ruthless military leader and members of MI6 started to plan for a potential war. Part of this planning was to find a top secret location, in a completely inconspicuous rural location where intelligence could be gathered – and this is where Bletchley Park came in.

When WWII started Bletchley Park became a hub for vital intelligence, and when Britain managed to get its hands on one of Germany’s Enigma machines – experts from all walks of life were drafted in to help crack the German coding system.

From 1939 – 1945 Bletchley recruited a staggering 9000 people, all of whom signed the Official Secrets Act and worked as a vital team to help win the war. Experts say that the work done in Bletchley alone helped to shorten the war by around 2 years. To put this into perspective historians estimate that 62 million people died worldwide during the 6 years of WWII. So that’s potentially 20,000,000 people’s lives that were saved by a motley crew of mathematicians, engineers, typists, officers, language specialists, cooks, cleaners and many more!

One of those 9000 people was my husband’s grandad, who sadly passed away unexpectedly young before he could even talk about his work for the war efforts. Snippets of his life and time at Bletchley (1943-1945) are still coming to light, but what a joy to be able to visit Bletchley and see the actual room where my husband’s grandad worked in 8-hour shifts to help piece together fragments of decoded German messages. Oh, the stories he must have been keeping secret!

I was emotional walking into Hut 3 and seeing the room where ‘The Watch’ pieced together decoded messages, and I’m sure so were my husband and mother-in-law. Below are some pictures that I took of the rooms that have been so expertly restored to their former glory – it looks like the code-breakers has just nipped out for lunch.

We literally owe our lives to these wonderful people that worked so hard, in secret to end the war. To the mathematicians who broke the codes, we owe our present technological age – without them I may not have been typing on a computer right now!

Hut 3 - Intelligence & Translation

Hut 3 – Intelligence & Translation

The Watch - Translation of decoded, partial messages

The Watch – Translation of decoded, partial messages

Alan Turing's office

Careless Talk Costs Lives

Code breaking

Original props

Vintage make-up

Popped out to lunch

If you’re curious and want to know more, please take a visit. It’s £15 for an adult ticket and this is a 12-month ticket so you can return as often as your like within a year.

Here’s a BBC video of the recent restoration

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You Are Everlasting

Beautiful giver of life,
You turn sorrow into joy,
Darkness into light,
Fear into peace,
Hate into love.

You are the great transformer,
The master of metamorphosis,
The catalyst of change.

Wonderful creator of all,
You breath life into being,
Carve the mountains,
Shape the seas,
Draw the sky.

You are perfect beauty,
Author of complexity,
Infinite joy-giver.

Awesome commander of hosts,
You watch over us all,
Direct the sun’s course,
Guard truth,
Rule supreme.

You are strong and steadfast,
The end to all fear,
Never failing.

Marvelous herald of hope,
You beckon light into being,
Breath peace from despair,
Lift the hopeless,
Calm the storm.

You are the promise-giver,
The future-builder,
The source of new life.

You are everything good, true,
Everything worth anything:

Strong and compassionate,
In one breath.

Just and gracious,
With a single word.

Sovereign and servant,
In one touch.

You are everlasting.

Giver of Life...

Giver of Life, Creator of All, Commander of Hosts, Herald of Hope

You are everything good, true...

You are everything good, true…

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Beautiful Peace

There is this numbing darkness,
So dark that it swallows up light,
So cold that is suffocates.

It’s almost like drifting
In starless space
Or more like drowning
In the fathomless ocean.

I remember it like it was yesterday
Maybe it was, I’m not quite sure
But I know I’m not there anymore.
Or maybe I am in the same place,
But is is very different now.

Now there is a darkness
But it is not swallowing me up,
I am inside, the darkness outside.

It’s like I am in a womb
Safe and secure
Or like I am being held
In loving arms.

I remember this warm light,
Like a log fire inside, outside
It seems to flow through me.
The sun is warming the ocean,
Stars have come out tonight.

There is this shining star,
So mysterious and beautiful,
So warm that it reaches my core.

It’s almost like someone’s
Loving touch
Or more like someone’s
Soothing whisper.

It never leaves me side,
Always soothing the dark away,
Always surrounding my all.
I have no name for this place,
It’s just a beautiful peace.

Excerpt From: “Promises Like Raindrops.”
copyright Vicky Osborn


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You are not alone

You are not alone,
You are never alone,
you have never been alone.

I can see you standing on that hill top,
Battered around by the wind,
Desperately seeking a soul in this vast landscape.

Your eyes are searching earnestly for someone to share this view,
To see with you this fearsome cavern below,
To help you find a way off of this unstable rock,
So precariously positioned so high.

You think you are alone,
You think you are always alone,
You think you have always been alone.

That cavern that faced you need not be fearsome,
In fact it is something entirely different.
That rock that you are standing upon is steadfast and strong.
You may not see me with you,
But you can feel my breath upon your face.

I am with you,
I am always with you,
I have always been with you.

Oh, that you could see what I see.
That you are nestled securely in the palm of my hand.
That that cavern you see is actually,
A scar that show just how much I love you.
That everyday that wind upon your face,
Is me, breathing my love over you.

You are not alone,
You are never alone,
You have never been alone.

I embrace you with my love,
Every second of every day,
Fovever and ever and ever!


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Disecting a Rainbow

There is a pot,
Somewhere near the end,
Wherever that my be.
Peer through the murk
And you might just catch a glimpse.

A chink of light,
Whispering in the grey
That something good is around.
Obscured by cloud,
Somewhere in the farthest reaches.

And try as you might,
In the grey,
It’s hard to believe that there’s light.

Except for a sliver,
Hardly visible by my eye,
But the warmth can be felt.
And when the darkness parts,
Up ahead, for a second, I see it!

Like tissue paper
Hanging in the wind,
Delicate yet surviving the storm.
Translucent colours
Threaded across an agry sky.

Any try as it might,
The darkness
Must always give way to the light.


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Under the sea

I love the sea but on a recent visit to Toronto’s aquarium, I developed a new appreciation for the beauty and variety…










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Wooden blocks

Wooden blocks are one of my favourite items to make, although very time-consuming. I love finding great combinations of vintage papers and neutral paints – each block is truly unique.

Visit my Folksy shop for more information:

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