Please find below a selection of poems by Felicity. 

This Love

This love; our love

Is not what I thought.


It’s not the strong beam

Bracing us together.


Or the silky web

That withstands the wind.


This love; our love

Is like porcelain.


A beauty to behold

But so fragile; so thin.


So easily smashed

Into tiny pieces.


A castaway leaf

Not anchored deep.


To a united life

Of commitment and care.


This love; our love

Is over my dear.



Felicity Chapman, 2014

My Soul

You are my earth and my sky

The sand soft to my touch.


Your simple grace supports me

Like a leaf stretched out

Holding a drop of morning dew.


Your face tells of a thousand stories

Of times we’ve shared and of a

Time when only our souls spoke;

Connected before our eyes had seen.


You are my sister

You are my soul.


You ride with me where

Others dare not travel.


Your sunshine is your smile

That I hold in my heart

And think of as I drift to sleep.


Your veins are my veins

Our blood the same

Our bodies beating as one

Whether near or far away.


You are my sister

You are my soul.


Felicity Chapman, 2014

The Way of The Fool

Over a lover’s note

The Fool looked down

Splayed was his heart

On that pensive page.


Why bother? said he

His face all a frown

Such treasure I give

Should I be more sage?


What if my lover

Does not feel the same?

Should I keep this gift,

Keep it locked in a cage?


My heart’s then safe

From hurts yet unknown

From a thousand dashed hopes

Souring into malaise.


No! said The Fool

With much conviction now

Waking up to himself

Seeing through his daze.


A gift should not be

In expect of return

To live in want and in hope

Now that is what’s crazed.


So if foolish it feels

To love abound

Then may I stay The Fool

And spread my gifts around.



Felicity Chapman, 2019

A Place To Rest

Born from one cell

And then we die.

Breath strong of life,


Filled with every dream and desire,

Then a rasping bow

To destiny;

All a fleeting blink of the eye.


Great kingdoms, mountains,

To the same fate they fall.

And what is there left?

What really is there?


Our identities as they pass

Through time?

The thrusting self?

Pride’s feathers fluffed

And preened?

The me that feels so tall?

That reaches with a warm embrace,

Then throws us to the wall?


Desserts of delusions,

Of wanting and need.

Of ferocious hunger;

An everlasting greed.

Where peace are you,

In this self so small?


What really is there?

I ask again.

Of the you that is here now,

In this moment,

And then into the next?


Young life,

Old life,

Changing states.

Through the river

Of our little ‘I’.

Before the before

And infinitum,

Who really is here now?


The golden drop that quenches thirst,

A space where we can be.

Sunyata is our rest,

Our refuge and our sight.

Our release of all

That weighs us down,

That madness that is cursed.


So, rest as awareness,

Which is as vast as the sky.

Be the circumference,

Not just the ‘I’.


Felicity Chapman, 2020


The song

The sound

And whispers of





Waves crashing

Thoughts dashing

Flowing in

Ebbing out.


The scene

Is the score

A music

That shakes me

Soothes me


To the core.




In the wind

The tide

The ragged

Ocean shore.


Not just

A picture

Of delight

To see,


Not just



Its melody,


But an open space

A poignant place

Of so much



Soul and mind


With the sand

The sea,



In harmony

An orchestra

Of purity.


Felicity Chapman, 2021


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