THE CORNER 4 WOMEN: August 2024

Monday 26 August 2024

"THE CLIMB" by Becky Hemsley

"THE CLIMB"
by Becky Hemsley

They say that when you’re broken

This is how the light gets in

But what if all the cracks

Are letting out the light within?

They say it makes you stronger

But at first it makes you weak

The way you face the mountain base

Before you reach the peak

They say to break is brave

And yet your mind is full of dread

You’re not overwhelmed by courage

But by helplessness instead

But admitting you are breaking

Is far braver than you know

And remember, from the bottom

There is just one way to go

See, I think they mean it isn’t just

That breaking makes you strong

But the way you use the embers

Of your will to carry on

It’s triumph over trauma

And it’s healing after hurt

It’s rising from the ashes

With a new-found sense of worth

So find yourself a candle

And allow its tiny spark

To ignite you back to life

And put the fire back in your heart

And grant yourself compassion

For the times that you feel weak

Just rest until you’re strong enough

To get back on your feet

Yes, I know that when you’re broken

You have only threads of hope

But tie them to the mountain

Like your personal safety rope

Then gather at the bottom

With the summit high above

Then take a breath and take a step

The only way is up

******

This is on my Etsy store as digital prints, A4 prints and postcards

Becky Hemsley 2021

https://www.facebook.com/talkingtothewild

Beautiful artwork by Lesya Poplavskaya

'The Climb' is from my second collection:

https://a.co/d/gzBzdtW

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 Old River Queen" by John A Elliott 2024

"The Old River Queen"

by John A Elliott 2024

A Tale of Forgotten Splendour

Once the jewel of the waterways, The River Queen was a vessel of grandeur and grace. Her name was whispered with reverence and admiration, and she was the pride of the river that had been her home and her kingdom. She was not just a houseboat; she was a floating palace, adorned with the finest paint that shimmered in the sunlight, her windows sparkling like diamonds, and her deck polished to a mirror sheen.

The River Queen was more than a mere structure of wood and metal; she was alive with the echoes of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the soft murmur of stories being spun. She was a witness to the tender whispers of lovers, the boisterous songs of celebration, and the silent tears of parting. She was a sanctuary for the weary and a playground for the joyful.

But time, as it does with all things, caught up with The River Queen. The hands that cared for her grew old, the voices that filled her with life faded away, and the world that once cherished her beauty turned its gaze to newer, shinier things. She was left to the mercy of the elements, her once majestic form now cloaked in a shroud of rotting vegetation. The paint that had gleamed so proudly flaked and peeled, revealing the weary bones of her hull. Her windows, once clear and bright, were now smashed and stained, her deck a testament to neglect.

Yet, even in her abandonment, The River Queen held onto her dignity. The memories of her days of splendour were etched into her very being, and she carried them with a quiet strength. She still held the power to stir the hearts of those who saw past her disrepair, to those who could hear the faint strains of music that once danced upon her decks.

It was on a day of gentle rain, when the sky wept for all things forgotten, that a young couple stumbled upon The River Queen. They saw not a relic of the past, but a canvas of potential. They heard not the silence of abandonment, but the whispers of a story waiting to be continued.

With care and respect, they began to peel away the layers of neglect. Each stroke of the brush, each repaired plank, each polished windowpane was an act of restoration, not just of the boat, but of the legacy she carried. The River Queen was coming back to life, her splendour being reborn, not as it once was, but as something new. Something different. Something that honoured her past and welcomed her future.

The River Queen would never again be the untouchable icon she once was, but she didn't need to be. She became a home, a haven, a place where new memories were crafted, where love was celebrated, where life's simple pleasures were savoured. She became a testament to the beauty of resilience, the elegance of age, and the enduring power of care and affection.

And so, The River Queen reclaimed her throne, not as a monarch of the river, but as its heart, beating with the joy and pain of all she had witnessed and all that was yet to come. She was, and always would be, the queen of the river in her own right, majestic in her imperfection, beloved in her revival.

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

"STICKS AND STONES" by Becky Hemsley

"STICKS AND STONES"
by Becky Hemsley

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But words will cut me deep

They’ll keep on hurting long after

The breaks and bruises heal

Because the sticks will meet my skin,

The stones may hit my bones

But words will carve their way beneath

And make my soul their home

And this gives them the power

To control me and to win

‘Cause now I’ve words of worthlessness

From outside and within

See stones are thrown in anger

But our words are thrown in spite

And whilst they’re easier to pitch

They’re more difficult to fight

Because we cannot run away,

We cannot just unhear them,

Because their echoes resonate

Long after we are near them

And if we are not careful

Then those words become our voice

One that learns to shout the loudest

And to make the biggest noise

So do not be the reason

Someone hates their own reflection

Or thinks they are not worthy

Or deserving of affection

And when you pick your words

Weigh them awhile between your palms

Consider whether hurling them

Will heal or hurt or harm

Yes, sticks and stones may break a bone

But words can break a heart

And they can be the reason

Someone tears themself apart

So if you wouldn’t break their bones

By throwing stones and sticks

It’s likely for the best

That some words do not leave your lips

******

Credit Goes To : Becky Hemsley 2022

https://www.facebook.com/talkingtothewild

Stunning artwork by Femke Muntz

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

"OLD GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN"

"OLD GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN"
(author unknown)

To all my female friends 50 years and up.

Most of us are ageing through the next phase of our lives. We're at the age where we see wrinkles, grey hair, and extra pounds.

We see cute 25-year-olds and reminisce.

But we were also 25, just as they will one day be our age. We aren't those "girls in their summer clothes" anymore. What they bring to the table with their youth and zest, we bring our wisdom and experience.

We have raised families, run households, paid the bills, dealt with diseases, sadness and everything else life has assigned us.

Some of us have lost those that we're nearest and dearest to us.

We are survivors.

We are warriors in the quiet.

We are women, like a fine wine or classic car.

Even if our bodies aren't what they once were, they carry our souls, our courage, and our strength. We shall enter this chapter in our lives with humility, grace, and pride over everything we have been through, and we should never feel bad about getting older.

It's a privilege that is denied to so many.

"I MADE A SWING FROM ROPE" by Joanne Boyle

"I MADE A SWING FROM ROPE"
by Joanne Boyle

When I was just a child

mum would point to a tree,

at the bottom of the garden

and she would say to me.

"There is a special message

I have hid it way up high.

The only way to get it

is if you reach for the sky."

"But mum this is dangerous

and I will no doubt fall.

I am not big enough.

I am still far too small."

I remember mum laughing

as she pulled me close to her.

She said "one day my boy,

you'll find your way up there."

I forgot about that day.

The years they came and went.

Mum went up to heaven

when an angel had been sent.

I packed up our old home,

and I looked out at the tree.

I was a six year old boy again

In a memory.

I remembered our conversation.

I made a swing from rope.

I climbed that old tree.

My heart was full of hope.

When I reached the top.

There was a nook cut in the tree.

An envelope sat waiting.

I knew it was for me.

I couldn't wait to open it.

Surprised that it was there.

My heart beat so rapidly.

I knew my mum was there.

I opened up the envelope

and this is what I read.

"Oh my dear darling boy,

you have remembered what I said.

You finally found a way,

to reach way up high.

When something is truly worth it

we know that we must try.

I always knew you would.

You just had to find your way.

But with love in our hearts.

We will have our day.

When we really want something,

we make it come true.

Just like I found my way,

to keep my promise to you."

I put that letter in my heart

Tears fell down my face.

A memory sent from heaven.

That was Mums new place.

**************

Author Joanne Boyle ~ Heartfelt

Art ~ Steffi Krenzek

Sunday 25 August 2024

"LIKE KEYS OF A PIANO" by Tahlia Hunter

"LIKE KEYS OF A PIANO"
by Tahlia Hunter

"Life is like

the keys of a piano.

Each person

is standing on a different key

and can only hear the notes

equal to or below

the note they are standing on.

And this is why they

sometimes cannot hear you,

as what is merely sound to one person

is music to another.

And so, you may learn

to play your song

as best as you can,

and not be discouraged

by those who cannot recognise the beauty of its melody,

trusting that it will reach the ears

of those meant to hear it,

just as their music

will reach the right audience.”

**************

Words by Tahlia Hunter

https://www.facebook.com/TahliaHunterBlog

Artwork by Loui Jover Art

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