Friday 26 July 2024

"HOLD MY HAND SISTER" by Joanne Boyle


"HOLD MY HAND SISTER"
by Joanne Boyle

Hold my hand Sister
Let us run and play.
Let us go to a memory
from a yesterday.
Let us forget our troubles.
Put our aches to the side.
Let us walk on the beach
as our memories collide.
Talk to me sister
about nothing at all.
Let us live in the moments
like when we were small.
Let us go in our minds
to a memory of ours.
Then let's talk over tea
for hours and hours.
Hold my hand Sister
and don't let it go
Because age will come
and we will grow.
********
Author Joanne Boyle ~ Heartfelt

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"Friends Like Us" by Joanne Boyle

"Friends Like Us"
by Joanne Boyle
Remember when we were little
and all the stories that we told?
We would talk about our future,
about a time that we'd grow old.
We would whisper in the wind
Send our dreams up to the sky.
We trusted one another
like the faithful butterfly.
We made a pact together,
and it just seems like yesterday
when we'd call on each other
to see if we were coming out to play.
Our teddy bears shared a picnic
and now our living children do.
All those stories that we told
most of them came true.
We didn't talk about the sorrows.
The ones that we would face.
As children we did not know
of the losses from this place.
Time taught us many values
but we shared them with each other.
From children and their dolls
we all, in turn became a Mother.
I still recall the games we played
and all the fun we had.
The nights we'd play hide and seek
until we were found by mum or dad.
Summer days we would play rounders
with other kids from different streets.
Sundays were a day of rest
and tea was made from treats.
If I had known back then
the things that I now know.
I would cherish every minute
with the friends that helped me grow.
*********
J.Boyle

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"Our Children and The Runaway Train" By © J. A. Elliott 2023



"Our Children and The Runaway Train"
By © J. A. Elliott 2023
Michael Holiday, the 1950's crooner sang about "The Runaway Train" and how it went rolling down the track when it "Blew". Today the runaway train of children the world over, are very much akin to the old steam train of yesteryear, as they blow their cool and head off down those symbolistic tracks, looking for the better life they believe lies, just over the horizon.
As parents we all stand in dread of this happening to our own offspring in the prime of their young lives, thinking its simply an attitude thing, and that almost all teenagers go through this period at some stage in their development. But all too often we are looking at it all from a totally wrong and supposedly grown up perspective. Yes when this happens and our children take to the streets, or simply run away and disappear from, what we believe to be the comforts of their own homes, we are totally gutted. We see our pristine life shattered, as we feel the loss of our loved ones. Our hearts are truly broken and in some ways understandably so. But lets stand back for a while and view this from the runaway child's perception of the world around them to fully understand better the WHY this is so prevalent in most civilized societies today.
Children, especially teenagers and young adults, are under enormous pressure to do well at school, college and university. Their academic achievements are the centre of what parents believe to be "Good for them" and failure isn't an option. Study, study and more study is the order of the day, with real time out and prime family time missing from their daily routine. Parents become distant and suddenly unapproachable, and this often is portrayed to our teens as uncaring and unloving behaviour, where once, time was spent together through their younger years. Now parents are suddenly like strangers who only meet at the breakfast table battlefield arena, gone are the carefree happy days of their early childhood. This is just the tip of the iceberg we ourselves as parents have created, as we ourselves are guilty of spending far too many hours at the office and even less continuing to get to know the ever developing and changing adolescent. It's that, us and them attitude that denies our children the understanding they really need, at times when they are going through so much, when a simple cuddle, or "I'm so proud of you", yes the simple little things that really mean so much to our developing young. All to often we half abandon them within our homes to pursue our own activities, yet denying them theirs, as they become our glorified unpaid baby sitters as they look after younger siblings, then moan when they cannot cope through having no or hardly any social life of their own. 

Girls are maturing much younger today; their bodies and minds are undergoing changes that didn't develop until much later, a few years ago. They are growing into young adults with all the feelings and emotions that come with it. They find a real need for seeking out love and understanding, they first look to us parents, but we fail to see this need, blindly going about our own lives, without a second thought. We take it out on them for our own misfortunes, blaming them forever being born, the classic pitch that many a youngster has heard. Now come on, hold up your hand if any of you parents can relate to this in any way.
When was the last time you actually had an intelligent conversation with your teenager without your differences of opinion turning into world war three because you failed to relate or understand the point they were making. These adolescent youngsters are often on the verge of abuse without realising it. And many a parent is so guilty of being abusive through lack of understanding, or simply not being able to cope themselves with what life throws at them. What roll models do you think we make when our own lives are so very complex and often we as parents and partners need tranquillisers and alcohol to simply cope with getting up in the morning. Yet our teenagers are expected to be able to cope with their own personal stresses and trauma's without these aids, and on top of that we give them no real support, love or loyalty.
Our children are crying out for help and unless we listen to their needs and act upon them, then more and more we are going to find them boarding and becoming that Runaway Train to break their own chains of their perceived oppression, leaving behind a trail of tears in their wake, as the guilt ridden parents sit and wonder WHY, yet still not having a single clue as to the real reason their son's and daughters ran away from home in the first place. Lack of communication between teenager and parents is the route cause, plus the parents failing to realize their babies are no longer children, but are young adults with their own lives to live. They need to learn from their own mistakes, and create foundations of their own. They want to experience this togetherness, and closeness to others that adults call love. They need a little independence and gentle guidance. These young adults may still need protecting, as they are going to be quite vulnerable, yet this protection should never overwhelm their own sense of self worth. However most of all they need to be heard by you, and you as a parent are indeed their roll model be it good or bad, and if you want your children to grow up and have a better life than you, then its you that must change to give it to them and not be a constant reminder of your own past mistakes, after all no child ever asked to be brought into this world, this was a decision you made when you yourself was an adolescent fumbling in the dark without a manual. So remember you too were young and rebellious in your own individual way, and no doubt your own parents found it hard to communicate and cope with you.

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"Someday I'm Going to Write The Stories of My Life" compiled by John A Elliott 2024


"Someday I'm Going to Write The Stories of My Life"
compiled by John A Elliott 2024


Way back many years ago now, during 1958 a new rendition of a song came out, by one of my mother's favourite singers, Michael Holliday, and that song called "The Story Of My Life" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gzk0bdlDr3Y has become the inspiration for me here today. I must admit I've always loved that song. Of course little did I know back then that I'd one day be writing short stories, of glimpses into my life...

My life is a tapestry, woven from the threads of experiences, and for one individual, that tapestry is rich with colour, texture, and design. At 74 years young, this article writer has lived a life filled with creativity and craftsmanship, a life that begs to be shared through stories that inspire and resonate.

As an artist, the world has been both a canvas and a muse. Each brushstroke tells a tale of inspiration drawn from the beauty of nature and the complexity of the human experience. The art I've created is not just a visual feast but a narrative that speaks from deep within my soul, capturing moments of joy, sorrow, and wonder. Sometimes emotionally happy, yet as an artist I've lapsed into deep depressions and frustration of not being able to achieve my vision of the work I'm trying to create on the canvas's before me. Similar to a frustrating writer's block, a dark cloud descends and progress is cut short.

The toymaker's chapter would be one of whimsy and delight. Toys, after all, are not mere playthings; they are vessels of imagination, gateways to worlds unbound by the rigidness of reality. Crafting toys is crafting dreams, giving form to the boundless creativity of a child's mind, and in doing so, preserving the purity and innocence of childhood itself. Being in a position, to actually design and create such wonders, sometimes, were just magical, as the design ideas just seemed to float through my mind, almost without effort on my part. So where did these designs and creations really come from. Some of my toy ideas just came to me from within my dreams as I slept.

As a wood craftsman, I have shaped the very majestic woods of the oak, ash, beech, walnut and pine into works of function and artistry. Wood, with its grains and textures, have been a companion of mine through my many years, teaching me patience and precision, reminding me, that even within the rough, there is potential for beauty.

Sewing and Quilt making weaves its way through the narrative as a testament to the warmth and comfort of home. Each quilt I've created is a patchwork of stories, a collection of fabrics each with its own origin, coming together to provide solace and a sense of belonging. Many were memory quilts from the clothes of a loved one. The many hours of sheer concentration, skill and love went into every single creation..

These would be the stories that are waiting to be written, the reflections of a life lived with passion and purpose. They are the stories that remind me that it is never too late to share our journey, to inspire others to create, to dream that impossible dream, and to live fully.

And so, the promise hangs in the air, and just like those famous lyrics, "Someday I'm Going to Write, The Story of My Life," and when that day comes, the pages will fill with the stories of my life not just lived, but crafted with the same love and attention as the art, toys, woodworks, and quilts, plus many other crafts that have defined me over the years, and made me into the person I am today.

ARTWORK by DALL-E 3 (AI)

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

Thursday 25 July 2024

"STOP SEARCHING FOR TOMORROW" by John A Elliott 2024


"STOP SEARCHING FOR TOMORROW"
by John A Elliott 2024

Stop searching for tomorrow,
For tomorrow never comes,
It's a mirage on the horizon,
A trick of distant drums.

The future is a promise,
That time seems not to keep,
A whisper in the darkness,
A secret that we reap.

Seize the day, they often say,
And they're not wrong,
For the present is the stage,
Where our lives just play along.

The dreams of tomorrow,
Are seeds we plant today,
Water them with action,
Don't let them fly away.

For every moment wasted,
Is a chance that slips,
A page unwritten,
A kiss that never meets our lips.

So, stop searching for tomorrow,
Embrace the now with heart,
For in the art of living,
Today, is the perfect start.

Let's not wait for the stars,
To align in the sky,
The time to shine is now,
Let your spirit fly high.

Tomorrow is a mystery,
Today is a gift,
Open it with joy,
And let your spirits lift.

So, dance in the rain,
Laugh in the sun,
Live every moment, as if your last,
Until this day is done.

For when tomorrow comes,
It's today once more,
A fresh start has risen,
To love, and to explore.

So stop searching for tomorrow,
It is just a dream away,
Live life for today,
And your dreams will come your way.

ARTWORK by DALL-E 3 (AI)

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"DECADES OF TIME"


"DECADES OF TIME"
(author unknown)

Marie and her 15-year-old bunch of Cajun girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Dairy Queen, next door to the Bayou View Restaurant, because they had only $6.00 amongst them and T-Boy Landry, the cute boy in Social Studies, lived on that street.

10 years later, the group of 25-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the beer was cheap, the restaurant offered free snacks, the band was good, there was no cover charge, and there were lots of cute guys.

10 years later, the group of 35-year-old Cajun girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the frozen daiquiris were good, it was right near the gym and, if they went late enough, there wouldn’t be too many whiny little kids there.

10 years later, the group of 45-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the martinis were big, and the waiters wore tight pants and had nice buns.

10 years later, the group of 55-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the prices were reasonable, the wine list was good, the restaurant had windows that opened (in case of hot flashes), and they served fish which is good for your cholesterol.

10 years later, the group of 65-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the lighting was good, and the restaurant had a senior citizen discount.
10 years later, the group of 75-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because the food was not too spicy, and the restaurant was handicapped-accessible.

10 years later, the group of 85-year-old girlfriends discussed where to meet for supper. Finally, they agreed to meet at the Bayou View Restaurant, because they had never been there before.

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"STOP WAITING FOR TOMORROW" by Becky Hemsley


"STOP WAITING FOR TOMORROW"
by Becky Hemsley

One time I met a man
Who only had a month to live
And I asked him if he had
Any advice that he could give
He said “I wake each morning
Knowing I am going to die
So each day must remind me
I am blessed to be alive
You see, my life’s on countdown
As each hour is unfurled
I know the clock is ticking
On my time here in this world
But what you’re overlooking
Is that it’s the same for you -
You know that I am dying
But forget that you are too
So make the most of sunshine
And go dancing in the rain
And sing a little louder
When your favourite music plays
Notice nature’s colours,
Savour everything you taste
Stop waiting for tomorrow
‘Cause you’ve got no time to waste
And could you say convincingly
That you’d have no regrets?
If just the next few days or weeks
Were all that you had left?”
And then my breath caught quickly
When he turned to me and asked
“Could you say that you died happy
If this day had been your last?”
*****
Becky Hemsley 2023
Lovely artwork by Olga Shefranov (at PaintsPassion on Etsy)
From my fourth collection here: https://a.co/d/9OU8lGH

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"THE BLONDE AND THE DUMMY"


"THE BLONDE AND THE DUMMY"
(author unknown)

A young ventriloquist was touring Sweden and, one night, he was doing a show in a small fishing town. With his dummy on his knee, he started going through some of his standard dumb blonde jokes.
Suddenly, a blonde woman in the fourth row stood on her chair and started shouting:
"I've heard enough of your stupid blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype Swedish blonde women that way?
What does the colour of a woman's hair have to do with her worth as a human being?
It's men like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the community, and from reaching our full potential as people. It's people like you who make others think that all blondes are dumb!
You and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against, not only blondes, but women in general; pathetically, all in the name of humour!"
The stunned ventriloquist started to apologize, but the blonde interrupted and screamed:
"You stay out of this! I'm talking to that little sh*t sitting on your lap."

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

Wednesday 24 July 2024

"A WISE SUITOR"


"A WISE SUITOR" (author unknown)
Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, lived a king who had a beautiful daughter. She was twenty-five, and perhaps it was the time to marry.
One day, four suitors came from afar and asked for her hand in marriage. Each of them was handsome, strong-looking, and had the perfect male body.
The princess came up to them and said,
"I don't care about your looks, I don't care about your strength, I'm not going to marry because of that. I will only marry a man who is wise and intelligent. Now, my father is going to ask you a very puzzling question, and whoever answers the question correctly will marry me. Good luck!"
At that moment, the king asked the four suitors the question,
"There was a talented hunter who never failed to catch his targets. Whenever he went hunting, he always killed an animal and brought it home. One day, the hunter became sick with a respiratory illness caused by a type of bacteria. Ever since then, it had been impossible for him to catch an animal, and he always returned home from the forest empty handed. Why is that?"
For several minutes, the four suitor racked their brains over the challenging question. Just then, the first suitor answered,
"The hunter's illness affected his eyesight, which made him unable to identify his targets."
The king shook his head and muttered,
"Wrong answer!"
The second suitor said,
"The animals in the forest had known the hunter to be a threat, so they all went into hiding and never appeared again."
The king shook his head again and muttered,
"You are wrong!"
The third suitor said,
"The hunter's equipment had developed a fault, that was why he could no longer catch an animal."
The king shook his head yet again and muttered,
"Well, that's wrong too."
The fourth suitor thought for a long time and finally came up with the smartest answer. He said surprisingly,
"Well, since it's a respiratory illness that the hunter became sick with, I'd say it's a whooping cough. It means that all the times he went hunting, he was coughing and coughing, which scared all the animals away. A hunter with a whooping cough will never catch a prey."
Struck with amazement, the king widened his eyes and exclaimed,
"Wow, correct! You're such a wise and intelligent young man! You're the one who will marry my daughter!"
LESSON TO LEARN:
Nowadays in our world, smartness beats strength and good looks. Be smart, be Intelligent and be wise!

Brought to you by https://thecorner4women.com together with our sister website http://www.nicheebookcollections.com and our growing e-book library available FREE, through our Newsletter sign up page here:-

https://tc4women.nicheebookcollections.com/NEWSLETTER-EBOOK-LIBRARY-SIGNUP.html We now have over 1900 e-books on our library shelves for your reading pleasure, so do come along and check us out.

More articles by Su DeNyme (our resident writer) & John A Elliott are available here: https://www.nicheebookcollections.com/TC4W/ARTICLES.html

"HOLD MY HAND SISTER" by Joanne Boyle

"HOLD MY HAND SISTER" by Joanne Boyle Hold my hand Sister Let us run and play. Let us go to a memory from a yesterday. Let us forg...