THE CORNER 4 WOMEN

Thursday, 19 October 2023

COME PLAY WITH US MUM by Joanne Boyle

"COME PLAY WITH US MUM"
by Joanne Boyle

Come play with us Mum,

let's all go outside.

Let us undo the knot,

the one that you tied.

Come play with us Mum,

those dishes can wait,

Let us be children,

before it's too late.

Come play with us Mum,

we'll make our own bed,

in exchange for the memories,

we will make instead.

Come play with us Mum,

leave the mess on the floor,

because there'll come a day,

you'll wish for more.

Come play with us Mum,

and leave your phone behind,

let's dig for magic

and see what we find.

Come play with us Mum,

your time is free,

and you'll be glad you did

for that memory.

Thank you so much Mum,

we'll remember this day

when you took off your pinny.

and came out to play.

Joanne Boyle Art by Steffi Krenzek https://www.facebook.com/poeminabottlle

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DON'T FORGET---I LOVE YOU by Joanne Boyle

"DON'T FORGET---I LOVE YOU"
by Joanne Boyle

With a thousand things to remember,

and so many things to do.

One thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When your days are dark, and

you think you can't get through,

one thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When you are feeling alone,

and there's no one to talk to,

one thing to never forget

is how much that I love you.

When you are looking out the window,

and don't like the view,

one thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When you feel that no one listens,

so your words become but few,

one thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When your head tells you stories,

and you wonder what is true,

one thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When you feel your dreams are over,

and too late to pursue,

one thing never to forget

is how much that I love you.

When you feel you are forgotten,

because of pastures new,

one thing to never forget,

is how much that I love you.

When you close your eyes,

remember, before you continue,

one thing to never forget

is how much that I love you.

Joanne Boyle Art by Steffi Krenzek https://www.facebook.com/poeminabottlle

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I LOVE LISTENING TO THE RAIN by Becky Hemsley 2023

"I LOVE LISTENING TO THE RAIN"
by Becky Hemsley 2023

I love listening to the rain pitter pattering on the hood of my coat.

I love watching storms dance around the sky from behind a window.

I love feeling the warmth of the sun when I’m sitting in the shade.

And I love hearing the waves crash against the rocks when I’m a mile away from the shore.

I love being reminded how the world lives so loudly, so proudly. That it crashes and falls and burns. And yet, it never fails to get back up and dance.

Yes, I love being reminded that the world is so completely, unapologetically alive.

As long as I’m sheltered and safe.

And I think that’s how we should love others.

I think we should show them how spectacular it is to be alive. What it means to truly see and hear and feel and thrive in this world.

But we should also be their safe space.

So they know that,

if they fall,

if they crash and burn,

there’s someone in their corner

helping them get back up

to dance.

*****

Becky Hemsley 2023

Beautiful artwork by @AF Anki MalowAnki

From 'Letters from Life' (currently a bestseller here in the UK! Thank you

) https://amzn.eu/d/cVWmmsI

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I WALKED UP YOUR GARDEN PATH TODAY by Joanne Boyle

"I WALKED UP YOUR GARDEN PATH TODAY"
by Joanne Boyle

I walked up your garden path today

and I knocked on your front door.

I asked if you were playing out,

it didn't matter if we were only four.

We could put our babies in their pram

and take them for a walk.

Or maybe sit with a tea set

and our teddies whilst we talk.

I walked up your garden path today

and I knocked on your front door.

Your Mum told you to hurry up

as she picked your bag up off the floor.

We hurried up the bank to school

laughing all the way,

we were ten years old now

and had put those dolls away.

I walked up your garden path today

and I let myself in.

I shouted are you ready yet

as I threw my empty drink can in the bin.

We would quickly compare homework

whilst talking about boys

We had stepped into the teenage years

and started to find different toys.

I walked up your garden path today

it was our last day of big school,

I found you in a heap of tears

because you thought you'd been a fool.

The boy you thought you loved

was the only fool around,

for not realising my friend

was the best he could have found.

I walked up your garden path today

wearing a banner that said bridesmaid.

Together we laughed and cried

at all the memories that we'd made.

We went out and made some more

and wrapped them up in gold,

adding them to the list

of the many stories to be told.

I walked down your garden path today

with you right by my side.

The proudest girl in all the world

to see her best friend as a bride.

It was all that I could hope for

for you to have a happy life

and I never felt put out

just because you were now a wife.

I walked up your garden path today,

there was a different number on the door

but no matter where you live,

we won't forget what friends are for.

by Joanne Boyle
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THE TOWER by Becky Hemsley 2019

"THE TOWER"
by Becky Hemsley 2019

You stand and face the mirror

And you magnify your flaws

You focus on the features

That are so uniquely yours

But their unique-ness doesn’t matter

For they simply don’t conform

To the criteria of beauty

They’ve convinced you is the norm

They make believe your beauty

Doesn’t go beneath your skin

That you simply can’t be pretty

If you have a crooked grin

They say your eyes can’t be too small

Your nose can’t be too big

That your lips must be just right -

Not over-full but not too thin

They say your ears must not stick out

Your hair can’t be too wild

Only those with tick-box beauty

May be physically admired

But those obsessed by beauty

Are the ones who can’t be free

Because they’re limited by what

Somebody else says they should be

So next time you face the mirror

And you smile your crooked grin

Remember, beauty’s just a tower

That society’s trapped you in

And you think you can’t escape

Because you think there is no key

But you simply need to redefine

The walls of your beauty

********

Becky Hemsley 2019

Artwork by Martina Vishtak

'The Tower' is from Talking to the Wild https://a.co/d/9r1gnQZ

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Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right by Janine Palmer

"Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right"

Is it really what they say?

Or is it what we feel?

How much of the dream is illusion?

And how much of it is real?

Dancing with duality,

And notions of wrong and right,

Do we conform and become a slave?

Or do we stand and fight?

As illusions begin to crumble,

And mirrors begin to shatter,

As the falsehoods begin to fade away,

To reveal the truth which really matters.

As Angels' words are heard,

As whispers now come through,

Through the skins and shells of ages,

Covering me and you.

As our holy breath still whispers,

As our fires more deeply glow,

To reveal hidden truths within,

Which somehow always know.

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Wednesday, 18 October 2023

I DON'T LOOK LIKE THE WOMEN IN THE MAGAZINES by Becky Hemsley 2023

"I DON'T LOOK LIKE
THE WOMEN IN THE MAGAZINES"
by Becky Hemsley 2023

Oh but my darling, you’re not supposed to. They are a two-dimensional snapshot in time. A work of art that has been practised and posed and styled and edited over and over again.

Your hair is not supposed to look like theirs because it moves with you. It bounces with every step you take, it tickles your child’s shoulder as you kiss them goodnight and it curls upon your pillow as you dream.

Your skin is not supposed to look like theirs because it has lived each day of your life with you. It has laughed until it’s lined and cried until it’s creased.

Your clothes are not supposed to look like theirs because they are along for this ride with you. They are holding meetings and walking the dog and having lunch with friends.

You are not supposed to look like the people in the magazines because you are not one. You are a living, breathing work of art.

And wouldn’t it be a shame if a two-dimensional image stopped you living? If you took all the angles and facets of what makes you you, and wished they were smoother or softer or still. If you sanded them down until they were indistinguishable. Until you were no longer you.

Because surely living is what we are here to do? In all its messy hair or crumpled clothes or wrinkled skin glory.

A picture can’t hug a friend or walk the dog or laugh until it cries.

A picture can’t dream.

So it isn’t that you don’t look like the women in the magazines my darling. It’s that they don’t look like you.

And you know what?

Maybe they wish they did.

Becky Hemsley 2023

Artwork by kenzistudioco

This is from my latest collection Letters from Life here: https://amzn.eu/d/7xu8hmn

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NO MORE WEAKNESS, NO MORE LIES

"NO MORE WEAKNESS, NO MORE LIES"
(author unknown)

She wasn’t strong because she wanted to be, but because she didn’t have any other choice.

When she was at her lowest point, all she could see was the anguish around her heart..

All she felt was the pain from the broken promises and people that walked away.

Her soul was weary and her heart had gotten heavy, and she knew she had to dig her way out of the darkness.

She didn’t know where she’d find a light or even which direction to head, only that she wouldn’t give up until she found peace.

She was tired of being sad and broken hearted, weary of the people that tried to trample her heart for their own pleasure.

No more weakness, no more lies.

She vowed to surround herself with authentic people, the ones she could count on when she needed them most.

She’d rather have five close friends than countless fair weather people..

Her life was too precious to spend any time convincing other people to love her on her terms.

She knew her worth and wouldn’t settle any more for the ones who didn’t make her a priority.

Her kind voice and loving soul was but a sliver of the depth of her amazing person, one that she intended to lock away until someone could see past her pain..

The one who could speak to her soul...

The lost half of a broken circle that was her.

She didn’t need to be fixed, completed or saved.

She just wanted to be loved, on equal terms with respect and passion for the remainder of her days.

Her wants weren’t extravagant or demanding, but her standards were.

She loved fiercely and was loyal to a fault- she expected the same from her loved ones and partner.

She’d been down the broken road too many times to count, and perhaps she’d travel there some more, but she was done chasing love and affection.

A gentleman wouldn’t expect her to chase him, and more importantly, he wouldn’t let her.

Come what may, she’d never be anyone’s “maybe.”

This time, she was holding out for forever.

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