When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When the faith to love is what no-one can find
For even when asleep, the mind still schemes
When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for peace
when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands
When in this life we feel we’ve lost our place…
Then at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned.
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born
Within each storm there is a calm still eye
From there we see the fiercest clouds blown by
Day: October 18, 2015
Where I touch you
You know there's that little place in the inner wrist where it's so soft and tender? Where I need your touch; Where I touch you Wrist to wrist,no-one will notice; But we notice, I feel your pulse beating, Or is it mine? Take the rose, Take the rose for your table. And when you see it Remember, Remember everything What we said, What we never said but implied, And only the rose will listen As you sing your song The rose will be there In the heart's garden Dreaming, Dreaming us back into being. As we fade gently away With evening time.
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Renewal!
How Do You Know What You Know
I like this poem
How Do You know What You Know? – joysofjoel.wordpress.com
Everybody tells lies but not everybody enjoy it so much their life revolves around creating it.
Do you remember that high school friend badmouthing your crush because she secretly desire him? How about that office pal who pat your shoulder and stab your back? And those innocent looking trolls waiting for your epic fall?
I just look at my facebook and see a friend who’s still in my list . I wonder why he’s still there? The good thing is looking at his photo i was able to create a poetry . Who says you can’t make good stuff out of bad traits? Inspiration may come from both sides.
Here it goes:
Rumor Has It
How Do You Know what you know?
Through the windows of your ears
or your eyes that depend
on your one sided sight?
Is it…
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Emile goes to the Garden Center with Stan
Stan and his bright ,beautiful and wise yet almost psychotic wife Mary went to the new Garden Center to use a gift token Stan had been given on his birthday by his cousin Marian. from Lee on Sea which is near Manchester They wanted to buy a big pot of mixed flowering plants to put on the porch of their 4 bed , tin bath cottage.Stan used to fill such a tub or indeed several himself but what with teaching Emile his cat to swim,balancing the account book and cooking a dinner every day he was too busy.Not to mention cleaning the windows in the conservatory with his microfibre cloth which he did weekly.And all the baking too..he was missing out on going to the University of the Third Age to teach logic to retired artists.
[My art.. from a photo of a bleeding bite on my leg..]
Emile their talking cat always went with them for a drive but he stayed in the car in case a dog might see him and bite him.Stan said to him,
Emile,would you like to sit on my shoulders,then you could come and have some coffee in a saucer?
No, thank you.said Emile,I don’t want a dog to jump up on you!I will lie down under the seat and have a nap.You can bring me some icecream back..I love ice cream as it melts.
Stan and Mary went into a huge glass greenhouse which had a cafe at one end.How stunning the orchids looked.. such delicate colors and what delicious and sweet perfumes they could smell.They sat down by the orchids and had a large cappuccino each and a very small scone with strawberry jam.
My goodness,what big mugs,Mary mused.Why don’t they standardize them? But to whose standards?
This must be half a pint!In some coffee shops this would be “Huge”
Well,just drink part of it,Pet,if it’s too much for you,” Stan replied abstractedly his mind on the nubile waitress.
What are you thinking?,.she enquired gently.This is the question most men dislike…maybe because they are not thinking and if they are,it may be they are thinking of something a wife or partner would not want to know!
I’m wondering what color of plants to get.Stan acknowledged quietly yet intravenously.
I always like blue flowers like delphiniums she informed him.After 69 years of marriage he still did not remember…but it made life more fun… and more surprising as each day was nearly new yet not quite second hand
The next moment they saw Emile. arriving.He was standing on the back of a large handsome black labrador dog which accompanied two stocky men.
Emile!he called,What’s going on? The two men came over.
Hello,one said,I’m Bert and this is my brother Bart.We found your little cat crossing the road.He said you were in here.Then Max,our dog,said Emile could ride on his back to avoid the mud by the gate
Thank you very much,Max,Mary said in a trembling voice. But how did you get out of the car,Emile?
You forgot to close the window and I could see a lovely tortoiseshell lady cat across the road so I decided to pop over.Emile said triumphantly.I feel in the mood for something which is good for me.. namely sex.
But you don’t know the Highway Code yet,Emile!Nor safe sex
Stan groaned, as it was one more thing to teach Emile.Will he want to learn Ancient Greek, as well he asked himself evasively
Isn’t it cute seeing Emile riding on Max’s back? asked Bart.Do you mind if I take a photo?
Feel free,Stan replied.Allow me ,please,to buy you some coffee.
Thank you,said Bert.Two double esspressos please.And two scones with Cornish cream and blackcurrant jam,thank you
Stan went to order whilst Max and Emile did a tour of the cafe and had their photo taken by several surprised people sipping coffee and tea simultaneously in error but yet in time with life’s music
My goodness,said Mary,I wonder if this photo will be in the local newspaper next week.It’s a symbol of love and peace.
Though of course not all dogs are as generous as Max. Not all cats are as bold as Emile..
Max wagged his tail and smiled upon hearing this.
If you’d like to help your dog to smile please email me at one of these addresses below.Cats can also be enabled to smile though this requires patience and charm and paying me a lot of cash in advance with no guarantees… i need money and am a cripple so please send it immediately when you find a public convenience or post office or a bank or from any cashpoint
Don’t wait.Email me now.. regret it later
patiencehere@coolmail.com
katepeaceplan@yodelmail.com
muchmorelove@catmail.org
katandcats@mymail.net
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Sunday verse
Catching wild herring off Whitby-
My husband went out with the tide
He felt nauseated
So they had him gold plated
And he stands up, as broad as he’s wide.
I went out in a rowboat
The thunderstorm hit me so hard.
I flew into the air
I cried,I declare…..
Danger should never be barred.
Stepping stones in a wide river
Still give me a childish delight.
Ambleside’s best
In all the North West.
I wish I could fly there tonight.
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The wildflowers
Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.
With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.
So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours...
And of us nothing shall endure.
As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so
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THE MINDSET OF COURAGE
*If you liked this post you may also like my post,“The excellence manifesto”. *If you are looking for empowerment related material click here.
Source: THE MINDSET OF COURAGE
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The enemy within and without
http://www.pij.org/details.php?id=692
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It was only Mee
You certainly get your wordsworth from my blog.
The beach was way too shelley for me on Saturday.
I hate eyre so much,I never want to see eyre again.
Shakespeares somewhere else please.
I hughes the royal mail sometime.
I spender money often and she is ok with that.
My book is jew to be published in the spring.
I wish the leaves did not russell.
I do like a whitehead of eyre.
She’s too austen-tashius for me.
My baby was over jew but he war fein after birth.
I want a war on peace .
I don’t get the Tolstoy eyrie.
I hope to make a prophet this year or the next.
Jacquiline rose again,I see.
I don’t know Phillips from Adam.
I don’t noah at all,just crossed plaths with her now and then
I saw him last eve.
Mary’s eyre’s amazing since it was trimmed.
I want to read the Hebrew ribald soon.
I wrote my last will in the Old Testament.
I believe in tragic.
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The cubicle
How like a prison is my cubicle How restless is my body on my chair. How still my heart and yet how truly fickle. How fast it flies to you who are not here. How elegant your letters and your thoughts; Ambiguous was your touch upon my throat. You destroyed my words and all that I had wrought You were no lover but a self crazed goat. As in this mental jail I'm now enrapped, I'll use this time to write,yet what to say? Perhaps my mind can extricate a map, From which I'll plot the route to get away. The prisons we think external are inside Yet in such captive grief we may soon die.
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Saturday afternoon in London……………not good for shopping!
How my heart sings 