Sharing with you a little bit of this and that.

Fiction, some thoughts and more fiction.

If you're a first time visitor, feel free to browse and don't be shy to comment!

Also feel free to contact me on fdramani29@googlemail.com!

Enjoy! x

Friday, 31 December 2010

Cupid's Arrow

New Years Eve - 2010

Charlotte stood amongst a crowd of people, shivering as the cold began to work itself into her bones. She pulled her coat tighter around her and shuffled from one foot to another trying to ease the numbing pain that had began to grace her feet. She tipped up onto the toes of shoes and craned her neck every so often to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on.

She had always preferred to spend New Year's Eve at home with a couple of friends reminiscing about the year before, wondering how this year could be better. Charlotte disliked the yobs and the strangers that felt they had a right to breathe all over you. But this year her good friend Adele had told here that there was absolutely somebody that she had to meet, a certain guy called Quinn who Adele was sure would light up Charlotte’s life.

''This is crazy.'' Charlotte mumbled to herself. ''I don't even know why I’m out here!!''. She groaned as the rose she had decided to wear in her hair fell out from behind her ear. She picked it up and plucked it back into place. She bit her lip to stop herself from kicking her own shins at totally abandoning her usual night in and succumbing to Adele’s idea of a 'great night out'. Well, actually, she knew why she had ventured out. Adele’s proposition of meeting up with Quinn had caught Charlotte’s attention. She figured she could do with something different in her life. But knowing life, and knowing Adele, it would most probably be a date for disaster.

''Silly rose!'' Charlotte scowled as the flower fell out from her hair again. She positioned it back behind her right ear. After pondering whether to actually get up off the sofa and get ready to go out to the London Eye, were there was a scheduled exquisite firework display to celebrate the New Year - and finally making it there, Charlotte had lost her friends after a drunken mob had insisted on walking through the crowd hand linked, challenging anyone that stood in their way to try and break them up. She had stumbled and fell under the affront, and after she had picked herself up, she found herself looking around her, totally lost and alone amongst a sea of excited New Year Goer's blowing vuvuzela’s and popping party poppers.

''You really should have worn something a little warmer if you're that cold'' a voice whispered in her ear. Charlotte jerked back and turned to see a handsome man looking back at her. He had closely cropped hair and a fitted tan leather jacket on that complimented his tan shoes and jeans. Un-phased by his appearance, she smirked at him and turned her attention back to trying to keep warm and finding her friends.

The voice whispered in her ear again ''Your fr….''. Before he could finish his sentence Charlotte had jutted her elbow out. She turned to see the man huddled over clutching his stomach.

''Serves you right!'' She shouted at him. She turned and wove her way into the crowd.

She peered left and right, fighting to get through the crowd to find her friends. She was ready to leave now and head home if she had no luck in her search. She felt a vibration in her handbag and reached down to find the source. With her phone in her hand she saw Adele’s picture grinning at her as her number rang through to Charlotte’s phone.

''Adele where are you?'' Charlotte answered the phone sharply. ''I'm here all on my own with strange people talking to me, I'm ready to go now to be honest''.

''Wait a sec Char, where are you?'' Adele asked. ''Meet me by the burger stand, there's a guy with a red hat on stilts, you should be able to spot him a mile away.''

Charlotte stood waiting, grasping her coat close to her and shuffling from foot to foot. She was tempted to buy a burger, but at £5.50 for one she declined. She stared at the guy on stilts balancing his red hat as he prepared to do a handstand. She breathed out restlessly and made patterns out of the frosty breath that came out of her mouth.

''Nice pattern you’re blowing there''. A voice called in her direction. Charlotte turned to see the good looking short cropped haired guy with the tan jacket and jeans that she had elbowed not so long ago. He was standing from afar.

''I didn't want to get elbowed again, so I figured I would keep my distance''. He held up his hands in surrenders as he smiled warmly at her.

''Oh gosh, not you again!'' Charlotte cried out, ''Won't you just leave me alone?'' She turned and started to walk away as the stranger walked over and grabbed her arm gently.

'Hey, hold on for a minute'' the guy replied. ''Sorry if I scared you before, I was just trying to let you know that Adele had spotted you from afar and she had sent me to get you. I guess I didn't really do much to let you know I was part of the gang''. Charlotte looked at him puzzled.

''You know Adele?'' she asked.

The guy nodded and grinned, ''Yeah.'' He stretched out his hand in a handshake ''I'm...''

''Finally, we found you!'' Adele cried running up to Charlotte with a few friends in tow interrupting the guy in mid flow. ''Girl, where did you get to? One minute you where there, the next you weren’t, and we were looking all over for you, I even sent Quinn to come and look for you. I told him to look out for the girl with the red rose in her hair.''

Just like Adele to speak a word a second. Charlotte hugged her, glad to be back with her friends.

''This is Quinn?'' Charlotte asked. She looked down at the floor embarrassed by her behaviour.

''Not to worry'' Quinn replied, ''It was a reaction to be expected. I didn't mean to scare you.''

''Do you guys know each other?'' Adele asked. ''Charlotte this is Quinn, the guy I wanted you to meet.''

''Oh yes, we've met'' Charlotte smiled. We were well acquainted''.


New Years Eve 2011

''Wasn't that some new year?'' Charlotte laughed at Quinn. ''Who would have thought.''

''Yeah, who would have thought?'' Adele chimed in, ''That I would make the perfect Cupid!''

Charlotte and Quinn laughed as they held up their glasses.

''Here is to Quinn and Charlotte on their engagement!'' Adele toasted.

''Now,'' Adele raised an eyebrow. ''Cupid could also play the role of a bridesmaid right?'' She winked at Charlotte as they all laughed.

''Happy New Year!'' They cried in unison.

For The Days Ahead

So it's that time again, where we say goodbye to yesteryear and get ready to embrace the new year. 2010 may have been eventful, some may have enjoyed it immensely, some not so much, but no doubt it will leave mixed memories of both good and bad, tough challenges and easy escapes.

The beginning of 2010 was one where so many vowed to see many changes, and now it's that time again as we enter into yet another new year. I pray that all you have been waiting for, things you wanted to see but haven't yet will begin to come into fruition this new year. Any setbacks that we may face, let us see it as simply a mountain that we can move, any obstacles we face will be those we can step over, and face that which is truly ours to experience.

May it be a good year for us all.

God bless!



For the days run into one another like the heavy rainwater mixed with the dirt on the side road

The beginning of a promise to say no to the little turns into a sprint to say yes to so much

The weeks run into each other like dominoes falling on top of one another

The excuse of 'just one more day' leads to a lifetime of never to be's

The months run into each other like water and shampoo when washing one's hair

There is no longer a distinction between a mind made up or a mind indecisive

The years run into one another like the beginning of time until the end of eternity

There is no longer the knowing of the difference between yesterday and tomorrow

The new year is ahead, and there presents a chance to start all over again.

Saturday, 25 December 2010

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you all an absolutely wonderfully delightful Christmas time! :)x

May it be a time to not only eat drink and be merry, but to be thankful for the little things, and be prepared for bigger and better things which are to come.

It may have been an extremely difficult year for you, numerous prayers unanswered, not seeing what you wanted to see, things seemingly getting worse, rather than better. It may have been an extremely amazing year, experiencing all that you had ever asked and more.

Season by season we live, so prepare. Whatever your season may be, enjoy the moment you are in, always in fervent hope and expectation for more than what you have right now, for that which exceeds your unanswered prayers and imagined desires and your dreams, and that which you have already seen, and not seen.

If you are alone right now, I pray that God would comfort you first, then send others to you to replicate His source. If you are basking in the delight of family and friends, enjoy and thank God that He is good.

Thank you Father God, for the birth or our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, that through Him, the world may not be condemned, but instead be saved. Thank you for Him who gave His life away in the form of love.

Merry Christmas!!

Friday, 24 December 2010

Her Tears Fall

Her tears fall because she looks deep into the eyes of another and feels their pain

The suggestion of another makes her feel that she must do, rather than feel free to do what has been suggested

Bound by the words of another according to their own standards and conviction

Her tears fall because her heart connects with another heart and knows when it skips a beat

The effort made to be the void of the skipped heartbeat goes unnoticed, because she does not have the capacity to be the void

Her efforts are clouded by one that believes their efforts are more

Her simple gesture to be there for another is brushed aside by her best not being enough

Yet her tears fell because she looked deep into the eyes of another and felt their pain

She did what she knew to do rather than what must be done

Freed by the ability to live by His standards and His conviction

Her tears fell because her heart connected with another

The skipped heart beat was met with the fullness of Him

Clouds disappeared because her efforts were applauded by Him the moment she tuned into His voice

Her simple gesture was simply enough according to the One that matters the most

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

I Saw Santa!

A little seasonal fun, for the kids and for you.


It was a cold winter’s night. Freda looked out her window and marveled at the pure white snow flakes, each a pattern of its own, as they made their way down to cover the ground below in a beautiful blanket of untouched beauty.

It was definitely Christmas time. The snow confirmed it. As she stared at the beauty of the frozen raindrops, Freda was amazed to see what looked like Santa's sleigh headed by his reindeer flying through the sky. She looked closely, she was sure Santa had just winked. Freda shook her head and looked again. Silly girl, it was just an airplane…and a star! What an imagination she had!

Freda had been looking forward to this the whole year since the last. Last year there had been no such beauty, the snow was reluctant to make an experience. Last year there had been no added extras.

''Where is Santa?'' She cried as she saw her mother putting up the stockings filled with goodies, sweets galore. “I thought Santa was supposed to put those there?” Her Mother had flushed red in the face as she realised she had been caught out.

''Is Santa even real?'' Freda asked.

School friends had told her stories of how the big jolly man clad in red was actually a fiction of the imagination.

''Grow up would you?'' They teased when Freda talked about him. ''Santa doesn't exist. Santa is Dad's dressed in red!''

Freda slowly began to believe their words as year after year she saw no sign of Santa. It was fine seeing him on TV and at the local shopping mall, but what about in real life, in her home…? She eyed her Father up and down suspiciously as he made his way out one day.

''I know your game Daddy dearest!'' She pointed a knowing finger at him. ''You can’t fool me! Going to get that red Santa suit ready huh?!''

Climbing down from her window and out of her room on that cold winter’s night, Freda crept downstairs and sat on the stairway. She had decided to hold a vigil all night to see what really was the truth. As much as she had heard from her friends, she had to prove her growing doubt of this so called Santa.

Lost in between sleep sitting on the stairway, Freda was suddenly awakened by a noise. She pulled herself up along the banister and heard some unusual activity downstairs. She climbed a little further down the steps and there she saw it.

Right by the fireplace!

Big fat legs clad in red…..She saw her Father's, Santa clad make believe big fat padded Santa suit legs sticking out from the fireplace!

Freda remembered the white beauty that lay outside. At least there would be one Christmas memory of something that was real.

She stopped, and paused for thought. ‘’But...what if…?’’ What an idiot she was!

She laughed out loud and cried out.

“Mum! Daddy's coming through the chimney!”

Freda expected to see her Mother come running out, instead she saw her Father standing at the top of the staircase.

''What is all the noise?'' Her Father cried, rubbing his eyes from the interrupted sleep. ''What are you playing at young lady?''

Freda stared at her Father, she was left dumbfounded and confused.

“Daddy?” She questioned. “But Santa…?” She said weakly pointing to the fireplace. Freda’s father held her close and patted her head.

''Sshhhh, sweetheart, It's OK,'' Daddy understands, and Daddy loves you very much''.

Freda continued to point at the fireplace, but there was nothing there. No big fat padded Santa clad legs climbing down the chimney. No nothing.

Freda went back to her room. Her Dad tucked her in wiping away the tears running down her face.

She woke up with a start in the morning, looking out of the window she was glad to see the snow was still there, the blanket of beauty. Had she dreamt it all?

But Freda remembered the night before.

''Santa!'' Freda whispered into the curtains as she looked out of the window. ''Daddy wasn’t you! So you are real!''

Fast asleep in la la land, Freda had not seen the rest of the story unfold.

She had not seen her Father run down the stairs after he had put her to sleep, and pull her Mother out from the fireplace. Freda didn't see her Mother dressed in a red padded Santa suit fall out from the fireplace.

''We got her good didn't we?'' Her mother preened.

''Oh yes'' Her Father replied. ''At lest she still believes in Santa!

Good thing Freda hadn’t seen Daddy kissing Santa Claus. Now that would have really confused her! :/


Wishing you all a very Happy Christmas!

Whatever you may have planned for this season, I hope and pray that you are blessed immensely, and never forget, even if you do not believe or feel you are too old to believe, and those that do believe - know that Jesus loves you. x

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

A Christmas To Remember

Sarafina lay shivering on the cold concrete floor. Loud noises sounded all around her, as she pulled the tattered cloth that covered her closer to her tiny body. Her big brown eyes were shut, she preferred them closed.

She didn’t need open eyes when her ears could so easily tell of all that was going on around her, and with her eyes closed she could dream. She covered her short cropped hair with her tattered cloth and dreamed.


Rebecca stared up at the lights in awe and smiled. She flicked her long blonde hair in anticipation. The best thing about Christmas had to be the big beautiful lights.

She clapped her hands as the lights were turned on, and with a myriad of other spectators, her big blue eyes held pure wonderment at the beauty of the city of London swathed in bright twinkling multicolored lights that simply shone.

At night, Rebecca climbed into bed after being tucked in by her mother. A warm mug of chocolate milk and a biscuit, along with the memories of those magical lights put a smile on her face.

‘Don’t forget my quilt!’ Rebecca cried to her mother. Her mother rolled her eyes as she placed the quilt over Rebecca body.

‘That old tattered thing,’ her mother sighed. ‘May be time for a new one.’

Rebecca simply smiled as she smoothed her long blonde hair over her face, held her quilt close, and closed her eyes to dream.

Sarafina dreamed of a place that was clothed in happiness.

A big green tree, like the ones she had happened to see in the tattered children’s books that had been donated by so many. Her dream tree stood by a window and glittered, adorned with baubles of all shapes and sizes. Under the tree were a myriad of multi coloured gifts. She stared wide eyed, having never seen anything like it, the mountain of carefully wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes stared back at her.

Sarafina saw a young girl bent low flicking her long blonde hair as she inspected the heap. The young girl held various boxes up to her face as she inspected them carefully, turning them around. Grunting, she threw each one back into the pile. Having found one that fit her expectations, the blonde haired girl clapped her hands merrily.

‘Here’s one that has my name on it!’ She smiled gleefully. She held the package in her hand and read the greeting card.

‘Rebecca, this is from me to someone very special. Love from Grandma. x’

Sarafina hid behind the shadows of the door so that the serene young girl she watched would not see her. She stared down at herself. Her clothes were blackened with dirt and decay, and she looked a mess. If this young blonde haired girl saw her, there would be much trouble no doubt. She would alert her family to the presence of an ugly looking dirty intruder. She did her best to hide behind the shadows.

Sarafina saw the young girl run over to her mother and tugged on her skirt.

‘Sweetheart, do mind? I'm trying to braise the turkey’. Her mother chastened.

The blonde haired girl peered from behind her mothers skirt and was astounded by the sight of the big pink bird that was being stuffed with garlic, onions and ginger.

‘Yuck!’ the young girl exclaimed. ‘What an ugly looking thing. Are we meant to eat that Mama?’.

Sarafina closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

The young girls mother smiled and continued to prepare an astounding meal of braised carrots, honey glazed parsnips, rice, baked salmon, fried chicken, steamed veg, Greek salad and so much more as Sarafina eyed the immense display.

Her mouth watered as she breathed in deeply. What she wouldn't do for a mouthful of one piece of a raw carrot.

The blonde haired girl skipped and clapped as she sang a song, happily watching her mother prepare all the food.

‘What a wonderful Christmas this will be,’ she sang.

Tears slid down Sarafina’s face as she yearned for just a memory of such abundance.


Rebecca tossed and turned. Her pillow was damp with perspiration as her brows furrowed together.

She was dreaming a dream of things she had never seen before.

She ran with sheer determination to reach the light that she saw ahead. She knew that the light was her safety.

Along the way she ducked and hid as buildings fell around her. The earth below her feet trembled and left her unsteady, yet she had nothing to hold on to as she fell to her feet amongst the chaos. She saw a man lying at her feet in front of her, she was no fool to know that he was clearly dead.

She continued to run, her long blonde hair flowed behind her. She was in stark comparison to her surroundings. She was aware that the white of her gown illuminated her very being. She ran even faster to find some shelter.

She spotted a cove, and ran deep into it. She lay on the floor and cowered, whimpering. She heard a sound and saw a girl sniffling, covered by an old tattered cloth. The girl's eyes were closed, sleeping, deeply in another world.

A tear rolled down her face as she watched the girl. The girls short cropped hair peaked out from beneath an old worn out cloth. As if aware of silent eyes upon her, the girl opened her eyes. Seeing the stranger next to her, and though she was cold and afraid, the girl was welcoming. She extended her old tattered cloth to invite the blonde haired stranger to share the covering.

Thankful Rebecca rushed forward and lay beside the girl who covered her in her cloth of comfort as they cowered at the heavy footsteps approaching, which grew louder by the minute. They both knew they were surrounded by danger, but did not know what to expect. One encased in dirt, the other illuminated by white clung to each other as they cried.

‘In here!’ A loud voice cried out. Footsteps approaching, another voice sounded, ‘Two bodies in here!’

Both girls were thankful when they were lifted and carried away, assured that they were in safe hands.


‘Merry Christmas!!’ Came forth the shouts.

Rebecca’s house was full of warmth and laughter. Auntie’s and Uncles, Cousins and friends all gathered together, singing carols, opening gifts, eating food and playing games.

She was quiet, unusual for her. The dream that she had the night before had left a lasting impression. Rebecca held up her gifts, and eyed the packaging, brightly wrapped, with bows and ribbons. That which she was so eager to open the day before no longer held the same attraction.

She opened one, the one that she had sifted out the night before and knew was from her Grandma. She read the greeting card again.

‘Rebecca, this is from me to someone very special. Love from Grandma. x’

Rebecca was moved to see a replica of the ‘tattered quilt’ her mother so hated. She held up the large, warm hand knitted quilted gift from her Grandma as she unfolded it and covered her body with it, indulging in its warmth.

'Your Grandma spent so much time knitting that quilt' Rebecca's Mother said. 'She was so young when she started it, it was even before you were born, and I was just little girl! But I can see her now, concentrating so hard. She always would say 'this is for someone very special!'

Rebecca smiled, a solemn smile as her big blue eyes stared at her gift. She knew what she had to do.

Sarafina sat smiling. She had been fortunate that she had been found in the cove. Her tattered dirty cloth had been replaced with hot warm towels as she was lifted up to safety.

She sat in the home of her Mother who had spent so long searching for her. Christian Aid had sent donations to Haiti after the earthquake had hit, and Sarafina was fortunate that she had survived the devastating experience, being able to enjoy the added extras. It had been a tearful and heart wrenching reuniting. She would always remember the girl that was sent to her. Blonde hair flowing, encased in light, the girl that held her close and offered comfort.

‘My angel in disguise.’ Sarafina had said.

'’Merry Christmas.’ Her Mother smiled at her handing her multiple gifts. ‘This was from a young girl that wanted to send a donation.’

Sarafina’s small fingers carefully unwrapped a brightly coloured gift to find a hand knitted quilt. She wrapped it around her and was ecstatic. She closed her eyes and indulged in the warmth and comfort it brought. She danced, and twirled and sang. She opened the card that came with it.

She knew exactly who it was from, for she had seen this girl in her dreams. Her Angel in disguise.

‘Merry Christmas for those less fortunate’ the card read.

‘Thank you for the covering you gave to me. This was intended for someone very special! Love the blonde haired girl. x'.

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Blue Skies and White Swans

Macy felt weary as she walked, she paused to sit upon a park bench. She looked up at the sky through teary eyes, and could see grey skies and raindrops falling. She wiped the tears away from her eyes.

Rita came to sit beside her. She looked ahead and saw ugly ducklings in the pond.

A passer by stopped and stood. He looked up.

''How blue the sky is''. He said.

''What?'' Macy remarked. ''The clouds are heavy and the sky is grey, can you not see?''

''And look at those white swans,'' He continued. ''So beautiful to watch''.

''Swans?'' Rita replied. ''Swans are beautiful, I see only dirty, ugly birds''.

The passer by sat down upon the bench next to the two girls.

''I see nothing but blue skies, and beautiful swans'' He said.

Macy and Rita looked at each other. Although strangers, they had one thing in common - they were certain this guy was crazy.

''Now, now, I know you're thinking.'' The passer by intervened their thoughts. ''You're thinking I'm crazy right? But see, faith is the substance of hope, the evidence of things not seen''.

''Huh?'' Macy asked puzzled. ''The sky is grey''.

''And the ducklings are ugly.'' Rita pointed to the pond.

The passer by paused.

''I see that which is not before me, but that which is to come. The skies will be blue once the storm passes.

He stood and faced them. His face glowed.

''Though the clouds may seem to dominate,'' he continued, ''the sun will eventually break through. And as for these 'ugly' ducklings...the intention was not for them to remain so, rather a process. For they will grow to be as beautiful as they were intended.''

''Have a good day'', He smiled and walked away.

Macy turned to Rita.

''You know, I do see a little blue in the sky up there now that he mentioned it''. She mused.

''And those fleet of ducklings are being lead by a beautiful swan, no doubt they will follow suit?'' Rita replied.

How dark is your cloud? How heavy is the rain that falls on you? There shall be brighter days, and brighter tomorrows.

How unworthy do you feel, ugly, and unmentionable? The time will come, when you too will shine. Just at the sun shall shine through those dark heavy clouds and those ugly ducklings shall become swans.

Do you believe it?

Everything is made beautiful in its time.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Falling Leaves




Reds and browns.

Mixed with greens.

Fresh green.

Reds and browns going through the dying process mixed with fresh greens.

Greens affected by the change, soon to change colour also.


Falling reds.

Falling browns.

Falling greens.

Falling from the ones that held them.

Falling reds and browns mixed with falling fresh greens.

Sounding underneath the footsteps.

Reds, browns and greens, crying under the heavy load of heavy footsteps.


The ones that held them, are now naked, in the winter.

After shedding the reds, browns and greens of its leaves.

Dying to itself, yet, still strong and standing.

Naked, waiting, within a rebirth.

In a new birth.

Of fresh new greens.

Only for a time.

Until the reds come falling

And the browns follow suit.

And the greens not ready, yet follow suit. Again.

Another new birth.

A regeneration.

Leaves on a tree.

The tree that held the ones that fell.

Winter to Spring, Spring to Summer, Summer runs into Autumn.

And then.

They begin all over again.




Falling reds and browns.

Mixed with greens.

Fresh green.

All over again.

Friday, 19 November 2010

Moola and Kaye

Moola and Kaye stared at the strange being that lay before them. There the being lay on a long stretch of a cold metal bed.

''We cannot have her here for long Kaye'' Moola said sternly. ''Any prolonged absence that is longer than necessary may surely stir up some sort of conundrum''.

''Co-nun-drum?'' Kaye asked, swirling the newly accustomed syllables around in her mouth.

''Yes,'' Moola replied looking down at the dictionary in his hand. ''And this being here that lays before us, is what these so called human beans look like in the flesh''.

''I think you mean human beings' Kaye giggled.

''Yes, that's what I said you silly thing'' Moola retorted huffily. Inside their capsule, there was a kaleidoscope of colours and gadgets. He busied himself with connecting various gadgets to each other, then connected them to the girl that lay on the cold metal bed.

Moola connected two pods to the sides of Kaye's head, as well as his, then tapped the air in front of him with his finger. Instantly there appeared a screen which began to play various stages from the life of the girl that lay ahead.

''Maybe we can learn a little about these beans from this'' Moola said.

''Be-ings'' Kaye said playfully.

Moola and Kaye stared at the screen, their big orb eyes were wide and receptive, taking in all that they saw.

''What's that?'' Kaye asked. She pointed to the see-through liquid that ran down the girls face as she knelt before a coffin.

''That is called...tears''. Moola replied. He looked down at the book in his hand and turned it around speculating it. ''Yes, this book says, the name of this clear liquid is known as tears. It can appear because of acute sadness, and at times acute joy as emotions run wide, mostly in women...''

Kaye stared at the screen and saw the tears running down the girl's face.

''And this?'' Kaye asked. She observed something else as she saw the girl's face take on a particular shape.

Moola pulled the two corners of his mouth upwards and grimaced. ''This is a... smile, apparently''.

Kaye followed suit and pulled the two corners of her mouth up in a forced smile.

''Sch-mile'' Kaye said through a tightened face, fingers in her mouth. ''Ow, it hurts'' she said.

''Yes, when it's done that way, and so forcibly, I would agree it is rather uncomfortable.'' Moola said wryly.

The corners of Kaye's face twitched as she tried to smile without any help.

''What are you doing Kaye''? Moola asked. ''Surely you must know you look absolutely ridiculous''.

''You are, you are...a big...'' Kaye grabbed the dictionary from Moola's hands and scanned through it, ''...a big bah humbug!''

Moola sat smug, glad that he had accomplished what he had wanted.

They both stared at the screen as the girl smiled and sang, twirling ribbons around her and popping balloons.

Kaye twirled around trying to copy the girl in a somewhat awkward fashion.

''This is happiness apparently'' Moola said.

''And now this?'' Kaye pointed at the image ahead.

The screen showed the girl throwing things around her room and screaming with more tears.

''Apparently, when these beans...''

''Be-ings Moola!' Kaye interrupted.

''Yes, when these beeee-ings'' Moola over pronounced the word ''don't get their own way, they display extreme bouts of...um...extreme actions. She is apparently angry''.

''A-ha'' Kaye said enlightened. ''She is a lot like you at times Moola''. She smirked and blinked innocent wide orb eyes back at Moola as he stared back at her intently.

He chose to say nothing.

They stared back at the screen, as the girl hugged and greeted various people. She was dressed in a white flowing gown with a long veil covering her face.

''Now this?'' Kaye asked.

''Apparently...affection'' Moola replied. ''Some very strange thing where the beans'' he faltered and quickly looked sideways at Kaye, ''The beee-ings,'' He emphasised, ''Express heightened emotions of affection where there is love and happiness and a genuine care for one another. This is also expressed through embracing one another, otherwise known as 'hugging' ''.

Kaye took a step back, with her wide eyed orb shaped eyes, she stared at Moola. She took a step forward, did an awkward jig, and placed her arms around Moola's shoulder and patted his head.

''Affection''. Kaye said. ''Ah-fec-shun''.

''Err, ok'' Moola shrugged her off as he frowned.

''And this is 'sleep' '' he said clearing his throat and quickly turning back to the screen. They stared at the girl from the screen, eyes closed, wrapped up in bed fast asleep.

''Sleep''. Kaye repeated. ''Sa-leeep''.

She stared at the figure ahead of her. She walked over and leaned in close. She looked at the body that lay before her, eyes closed, lips unknowingly upturned.

''She is asleep''. Kaye turned to Moola as she pointed to the girl. ''And she is smiling''.

''Yes,'' Moola replied ''And it is now time for her to go back''.

''But I like her.'' Kaye replied. ''She has taught me so much''.

Moola pointed at the girl and immediately her body disappeared from the stretcher ahead.

"Where is she now?'' Kaye asked Moola.

Moola pointed, back to the screen. There the girl lay back in her bed, wrapped up, with a smile on her face.

Kaye turned to Moola as a tear slowly ran down her face.

''Kaye!'' Moola exclaimed slowly touching the clear liquid that ran down her face. ''You are picking up the emotions from these beans! Don't worry, we can pick another one tomorrow.''

Moola gazed at Kaye, his expression softened as he leaned in close and put his arms awkwardly around her, his face twitching as the corners of his mouth slowly turned upwards. ''She has taught me a lot too you know...''

''Will she be alright? Kaye asked, returning Moola's hug. The girl, had definitely made an impact.

''To her,'' Moola said, ''This would have all been a dream.''


The girl woke up startled in her bed. She shook her husband awake.

''What is it?'' he asked groggily.

'Honey,'' She said, '''I just had the strangest dream...''

Monday, 8 November 2010

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

He was silent and still, just lying there wrapped in his blanketed comfort. He heard the footsteps, he heard them getting closer and closer. These footsteps were different. Not the hurried kind of a myriad of people walking past him. He heard the mass walking past him every single day, he knew them so well. No, these footsteps had an agenda. They were walking straight at him.

She had seen him sitting there, in his usual spot. She would often walk past, just to see if he was still there. He always was, sat there, crossed legged, amongst the dirty London streets, with a dirty street corner for comfort. He had a dog by his side, and he would ruffle the mutts coat with dirt caked fingers. The mutt would moan, and cower and draw close to the hands he knew so well.

Cup extended, blanket shielding him from the cold winter air, he begged. To any and every passer by that walked past, he would hold out his cup and ask for a few pennies. He was never surprised that so many walked straight past him. Nor was he surprised when a few more would look at him with contempt. He was grateful for the few that threw in loose change.

Their views of him didn't stop him though. He would still hold out his empty cup, blanket wrapped around him, with his dog at his side. He wrapped his sleeping bag around him as he lay in the dirty street corner.

He was surprised when the footsteps drew closer. He could tell them apart now, even with his eyes closed.

The quick paced steps of one that was running late for an appointment. The hard and heavy steps of one that carried some weight and then some. The silent whisper of one in slippers, dancing along, the click click clock of one wearing heels either to impress or just to add some height.

As the footsteps drew to a close, he held his breath and drew his mutt closer. He was tired, and he didn't want to have to face any unwelcome attention. Today was the day he had destined himself to die.

No money.

No food.

No nothing.

The click click clocking of unknown footsteps were very audible.

'Excuse me sir?' A voice said.

He lay still, in the comfort of his blanket. He noted that the voice that spoke was a soft one. He peeked the top of his head over the cover of his blanket and looked to see who was speaking to him. He saw a pretty young girl, face made up, dressed well. She was short, and those heels that added height. He was always amazed at his accuracy.

'Excuse me, sorry to bother you while you were sleeping' the pretty young girl spoke softly. He lifted up his head and pulled the musty warm covers down from his head. The cold night air hit him hard, and he took in a fresh breath. He eyed the stranger standing before him. He spoke no words.

She handed him a package. 'This is for you' she said.

He continued to eye her up and down. Rarely would someone take the time to come out to speak to him, yet alone hand him something.

'Get away' he spoke gruffly. 'I'm homeless, but I don't do drugs, so no thank you'. He lay back down and pulled his blanket back over his head.

The stranger smiled as she set down the package beside him.

'This is for you'. She said as she turned and walked away.

He heard the click click clocking of her heels walking away. Certain that she had gone, he lifted his head and pulled back his covers to see what she had left behind. His nose immediately took in the hot welcoming smell that would always meet him from next door. A hot package of chicken and chips sat before him, with a note on top.

'Just thought you might like this, on a cold winters night'.

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

The Long Dark Road

To walk along a long dark road, with none other than the sounds of your footsteps

A moonlit sky that shadows the path ahead

To step upon a street with only faulty lights as a companion

An intermittent glow does none for reassurance

To glide upon the ice with no hand to hold you as you fall

A cold hard embrace and unsteady feet offers many more tumbles

To speak your mind as your heart hurts inside

A judgmental tongue does none to bring healing

To bear your soul and the mistakes endured

A self righteous being cannot understand the need

To seek the counsel of those that are wise

A foolish mind can not comprehend

To embrace the love of the one above

A heart material minded can not understand

To understand and accept that long dark road

A mind body and soul you must separate

To walk along a long dark road, with none other than the sounds of your footsteps

Know that there is one walking along side you

To step upon a street with only faulty lights as a companion

Know that there is a silent and steady companion beside you

To glide upon the ice with no hand to hold you as you fall

Know that your fall was limited by The Hand that held you

To speak your mind as your heart hurts inside

Know that there is One that can relate to you

To bear your soul and the mistakes endured

Know that you are not alone

To seek the counsel of those that are wise

Know that there is one that sticks closer than a brother

To embrace the love of the one above

Know that His love is beyond

The dark roads and the lonely footsteps

The shadows and the faulty lights

The cold embrace and the unsteady feet and

The hurt inside

Often the dark road will lead to

A moonlit sky that shows the path ahead

To walk along a long dark road, with none other than the sounds of your footsteps

It was not your footsteps you heard

But the one that carried you

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

A Beautiful Piece

So I've started knitting.

Now now, before you say anything, no, I'm not turning into an old woman. I am simply making use of time, as well being cost effect whilst adding a personal touch. I am simply knitting scarves for all my beloved as Christmas presents. Now, it's brave of me to even say that I am, lest I do not reach the desired outcome. But if one of my beloved were to receive a rather oddly knitted scarf, I say it is better than none at all.

Anyway, I was thinking back to my prime time years where school teachers encouraged kids to learn as much as possible. Having learnt how to read and play the violin, sing and dance, it was time for knitting. May I add I can still read, sing and dance, (I hope!?) as for the violin, well that's another matter, as for knitting, it is a Grandmother of attempts. My acquired friend the guitar stares at me from the corner it was banished to, un-tuned and un-played for quite some time...but that's another story.

So I'm trying to knit this scarf. I start of really well. I try a couple of basic stitches and it looks alright, I'm proud of myself if I must say so myself. But then I decide to try something little more complicated. If you can do the two-step, why not try the waltz? I decide to come out of my comfort zone and try some rather tricky new found patterns.

Knitting needles. Check. Wool. Check. Fingers and thumb. Check.

Courtesy of YouTube, I try this new complicated knitting pattern. Brows furrowed, toes curled in frustration, I continue.

''Frustration?'' some may say.


Frustrated because this new idea of venturing forth into something new doesn't quite seem to be working out. I look at the work I have completed so far.

A hot mess. A big old hot mess of jumbled up wool trying to tell a story, but not quite even beginning. So frustrated am I, I grit my jaw and undo the the stitches and begin again.

Exasperated I am.

''Exasperated?'' some may echo.


Exasperated, because after a second attempt, the wool pattern is still a big mess.... Again! A jumbled up mish mash of incoherent woolly nonsense. I sigh, as I pull out the wool and attempt again. Needles to the wool, I try that new complicated pattern...again....

And again....

And again.

A few rows in, and again, a complete shambles. I throw the sorry attempt across the room and frown. I invite you to enter into that place where I am in, a place where your attempts prove dismal, so much so, that frustration and exasperation can only follow. An attempt where failure and wrong are so well familiar, that you can only succeed and do right by giving in.

"What am I doing wrong?'' I ask.

Browsing Google sites for help, I come across a phrase that catches my eye. The phrase says:

''When you start to knit, it may seem like the pattern you are producing makes no sense, it may even come across as a mess. Continue. You will only see the desired pattern when you continue to knit further more''.


Light bulb experience!

[cue deep throaty voice over: camera pans, soft focus, resting on intense deeply staring eyes]

Voice over: 'Lightning sounds and the air was still''...

Ok - slight exaggeration. But the light bulb did turn on...

So here's the thing...I had quit trying too early!! I had seen the 'mess' of my attempt and concluded that what would follow would be a mess, and so I gave up. I continued to read the phrase.

''Once you begin to knit more and more, you will see a pattern emerge, and what seemed to be a big mess, becomes a beautiful piece of art.''

So my mess of an attempt had actually been the attempt of something beautiful? It had only been what my minds eye could so far see? My minds eye and the whole picture sure do contradict themselves. (Comment if you agree on this one at least.)

I peer at the ball and wool I had thrown across the room. Picking it up, and looking at it somewhat apprehensive, I resume to knit.

And knit..

And knit. I stop for a break, take a look at the piece. In my hand was a beautiful knitted piece of wool!

''So whats the point of your story old lady''?

''Ahem. Excuse me?''

"Sorry...young lady...''

'Right..thank you.''

Basically...you may start off at something, and it seems like you are making a mess of your good intentions and frugal efforts. You may mess up, you may give give up. Persevere, see it through, because that which seems like a mess at first, will only be completed through your perseverance to reveal... a beautiful picture!

It is so easy to see the complications of a matter....but time taken to reflect, reveals the God given understanding.

''Huh? I don't get it.''

Ok...Just like the ball of wool taken by knitting needles were purposed for an end that was exquisite at the hands of one that knew exactly what to do......so were you made to assume the desired end of one that has your finished piece in mind.

''Ah-haa...I see...''

So, what are you aiming for? Do your attempts seem frugal? Do you question your own attempts? Continue to aim, the end picture is better than what the picture you see tells you.

Seeking direction? Continue to seek, though it may seem like there is not much you see, perseverance will prove that the finished picture is better than when you first began.

''What's the moral to your story then...ahem...young... lady''?

''Lol! The end is simply...a beautiful piece''.

Monday, 25 October 2010

She Who Was Imperfect

her smile was sweet and serene

yet on the corner of her mouth was a forgotten breadcrumb

her eyes were full of life, her make up accentuated them

yet her mascara ran and left dark circles under her eyes

her attire was one that was sharp and pristine

yet on her feet her shoes were scuffed and beaten

her skin was smooth and glowed

yet in the middle of her forehead was a pimple

her fingernails were grown to perfection

but the paint on them were chipped and worn

her hair was blow dryed to perfection

yet the split ends were unmistakable

she walked with confidence and assurance

yet her knees knocked into one another

she spoke with authority and boldness

yet her words were at times were unclear

she often strove for perfection

yet in all her efforts, she was imperfect

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

I Think, Therefore I Am. Surely?

She takes a tentative step forward. Her movements are slow calculated, yet offensive and so mistaken.

She slips and falls amidst the tiny minuscules of a thousand yellow grains like quick sand beneath her feet, she nurses a swollen knee.

Beyond her footsteps, there lies a vast desert. Beyond, pools of ice cool water. A desperate need.

''I am in the Sahara, dry and dead. But there.'' She points ahead, whispering softly ''There is an oasis. An o-a-s-i-s'' she sings.

He nods.

''And now, what else?'' He prompts.

She leans forward, head in her hands.

''I am amongst the yellow sand dunes, and I can see...a...movement, a movement in the distance.''

''And what is happening in the distance?'' He asks.

She rocks back and forth, head on hands and whimpers.

''I can see,'' she falters. ''I- I can see...many hands...many feet, marching, coming towards me.''

She stops speaking in obvious distress.

''what else can you see now?"' he asks.

She pauses. Takes a breath. Seems to think.

'I can not only just see, but I can hear!'' She cries out.

'What can you hear?'' He leans forward.

''I can... I can hear sounds.''

He waits for a moment, speaking no words.

''Off course.'' His answer is wry. ''And what 'sounds' can you hear?"

She smiles, head in her lap, she laughs, clapping gleefully.

''I can hear them, and see them, I can see and hear, both at the same time!''.

''What do you see and hear both at the same time?'' He questions.

''Them..." She whispers. ''The army. They are loud and strong, fast in approach. They tell me I am the queen of Sheba. They are covered in the colours of the rainbow.''

She bites her finger nails, spitting each one out with pride.

He frowns as he smooths down his hair, wiping away her sharp, wet, stray fingernail from his chin. ''They say?'' he continues.

''They say I am the next in line to reign to seat upon the golden throne. They are happy. They fall at my feet. They had been seeking after me for a long long time''.

She smiles, seemingly content and assured of her answer she sits upright in a regal posture.

Her eyes are glazed, and she seems catatonic. There is not much that can be done. He steps out of the room, and closes the door behind him.

Behind the glass screen he stares at her, she is seated in a cold and lonely room, with grey walls, one table and two chair seated beyond a glass screen.

''What's your verdict?'' His partner asks.

He pats his colleague on the shoulder and leans forward.

''Keep way way way clear of drugs''. He replies. ''Keep well, well away.''

Through His Eyes

He heated a stone up on the fire and placed it in her hands.

'Ow, ooh, wee!'' she cried as she dropped the stone immediately.

''That was red'' he said.

He soothed her hands in ice cold water as she felt the soothing embrace.

''This is blue'' he said.

She played around with cotton wool, soft to the touch.

''This is white'' he said.

He dug his hands in the earth of a pot plant and sprinkled it into her hands.

''This is brown''.

He picked up a daffodil and tickled her face with the flower.

''This is yellow''.

He took her hand and placed it into soft gooey endless tar.

''This is black''.

He took her out onto the marsh, as she ran her fingers in the grass and took in a deep breath.

''This is green''.

He placed her hands over the subtle warmth of a radiator.

''This is orange''.

He placed her hand on his heart as she felt his heart beating.

''This is my love for you''.

She picked up her cane and put his hand on her heart. Though she was blind, she knew that she would always be able to see through His eyes.

Saturday, 16 October 2010

Which Way The Wind Blows

It was a first day like other. No way did she expect to have to encounter such adverse situations.

She placed her hand on her head and realised that her beloved had left her. The winds had been predicted, and caution had been given. She had even spoken a word, to at least abort the operation. Settle for something a little safer. She turned to and fro in search for the one that had been a trusted friend. Even her umbrella had deserted her. Two for the price of one.

The wind blew, and the marsh swayed to and fro. The musical ensemble of the whistling wind that entertained the grass did not do much for her own comfort. Up on the highlands of a Scottish marsh filled land, she was regretful.

She stared ahead and saw those around her getting ready. Some even ran to find her lost beloved. She was promptly dragged back to her position. They searched high and low, battered and bruised by the fierce wind. Still nothing. Why had they chosen this for her on her first day??

''In 5,'' a voice called out.

She was on borrowed time. She looked around but could find nothing.

Her debut. It would be a shambles. She contemplated running away and hiding amongst the marsh that undoubtedly held her sweet beloved.

''Somewhere, out there, beyond the clear blue skies'' she found herself singing in hope as she wiped the running mascara from her eyes.

''Please.'' She was ushered along to her spot and silenced by a finger to the lip.

She grinned and grimaced. Turned left and right in hope, but still no joy. Her mother had already told her not to do it. ''This new job of yours,'' her mother had said as she simply shook her head at her daughter.

''In 5, 4, 3," the one in charge spoke. She trembled in fear at the thought of what was to be endured.

From the corner of her eye, she saw feet running, arms flailing, and then she felt a pat on her head and something pushed into her hand. Her beloved had been found, and not so strategically placed upon her head, as well as an added extra.

''...2. 1''. The voice readied her into action.

She smiled, took a deep breath and spoke. With her hand on her newly found wig, she broke into a smile, as she held the borrowed umbrella over her head.

''Good morning and welcome, join me for a turbulent morning on the 6am Weather Forecast News''.

Thursday, 14 October 2010

Blind Judgement

Anna walked along the street, her cane tip tapping in front of her. She walked like an expert, despite the disadvantages. She had opted for a guide dog, but had eventually settled for her own comforts.

Adrian sat not far away, watching her. He had been watching her for a while. He saw Anna fall into a bin, side step into incoming traffic, escaping the danger with the help of others and her cane, and now here she was walking down the street after a moment of shopping for groceries.

He squinted at the sun in his eye, and put on the shades that he pulled out of his jacket pocket.

Anna tip tapped along until she disappeared from view.

Everyone loved Anna, none had a bad word to speak against her. Was it because of her 'less than norm' situation, Adrian wasn't sure.

Anna and Adrian were friends, knowing each other from way back when. Anna had always been the one to make him laugh and forget about his troubles. When Anna had lost her sight in a car accident, Adrian had been there for her. Even after Anna had taken a bad fall at the local grocery store, he had helped her up, and called for an ambulance to take her to the hospital to assess the situation.

But lately, there had been something going on with Anna. Adrian noticed that there was a change in her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was a definite notable change.

The little worm niggling at Adrian's brain had began ever since a mutual friend Matt had visited Anna to say hello. Matt had broken his arm in a football game, and his right hand was bandaged up, set up for recuperation. Visitors that were with Anna at the time had extended their right hand, as was the norm, to shake when meeting and greeting. Adrian noticed though, that when Matt extended his left hand to shake since his right arm was bandaged and out of action, everyone responded appropriately.

Everyone including Anna.

Back at home, Adrian couldn't shake off the feeling. There was just something. He sat at the table and opened the daily paper.

The headlines told of the rise in those receiving disability benefits. The paper reported that there were more than less of those 'less capable', ready to receive as much as they could get from government hand outs through fraudulent measures. He was aware that many that received the benefits would rather keep on receiving it even if granted an opportunity to be free from it.

The next day Adrian was out and about at the local market, and he saw a familiar figure. She had on the same glasses and she held the same cane.

It was Anna.

Adrian was surprised when one market seller asked Anna what she wanted, and Anna quickly pointed to the best oranges, bananas, and mangoes. Adrian continued to muse. He thought back to his encounters with Anna and tried to piece things together. Finally it clicked.

Adrian invited Anna out with him one day for a light lunch. As Anna waited for him, Adrian hid and watched her waiting in a nearby park. Painters nearby were redecorating, signs of wet paint were appropriately situated all around to avoid any mishaps.

Adrian walked up to Anna and shook her hand. He moved her over to the wet paint area where there was a freshly painted bench with a visible sign that said 'Wet Paint'. Adrian made a move to sit down, and as he pulled Anna with him, she jumped up and cried:

'No! The sign says 'Wet paint!!''.


''How did you know?'' Anna asked Adrian. ''How did you know I wasn't really blind?''

''It was the night Matt walked in with a broken right arm.'' Adrian replied. ''We all extended our left hand. Naturally, it would have been a right hand extension shake, but it niggled me that you also extended your left hand, when there was no possible way for you to know that his right arm was not in use.''

Anna smiled at Adrian.

''Not only that'' he continued, ''but how could you possibly know which the best oranges and mangoes were without having seeing them?''

Anna took of her glasses, her eyes looked directly at him.

''Don't forget the fall at the grocery store'' She smiled. ''That was a God send. I was blind at one point, but heavy falls can be known to trigger the onset of gaining back lost sight. As 'one in a million chance' that may be to ever happen, it happened to me. I decided to make the best of my situation.''

''No more benefits for you then.'' Adrian was grim. ''You claimed thousands that you were not entitled to Anna''.

''You should become a Detective.'' Anna smirked. ''You're good,'' she smiled as she was lead away.

''You're very good.''


Fraud - don't do it!

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

The Face That Stared

Laura stared out of the window, but she couldn't see him. Well she wasn't actually sure whether it was a 'him' or a 'her', but it was definitely a face.

A face that would stare out of that window, watching the world go by. Always on time, or more so always staring no matter the time.

That face seemed to hold sadness, yet at times there would seem to be a glimmer of hope.

Sarah would wake in the morning, and whilst cleaning up the front room her eyes would roam and gaze out of the window.

There was that face, staring, just simply staring.

Sarah would go to close the curtain as the sun came down and there, that face simply staring.

The sound of police cars, ambulances racing to get to a particular place at a particular time. It was common. Sarah released the curtain, turned the TV up to drown out the noise. Bad neighborhood, cheap rent, face the consequences.

In the morning, again, she would look out of the window long enough to see if the face was there. There it was. Eyes meeting with each other, there seemed to be no glimmer of life in the eyes that stared back. It was definitely a girl, her hair caught around her face gave it away.

So accustomed was Sarah to peeking out of her window, so frequent did she see the blank staring face.

Sarah heard sirens one day, yet again was the norm, but a little closer to home this time.

She looked out of the window, saw ambulance and police surrounding that house. A stretcher carrying a body. She picked up the paper the next morning to read that a young girl had been in imprisonment in her house by her parents, fed practically nothing for at least a year. The life had simply left the young girl as she gave up the will to live, subjected to a lifetime of horror and abuse at the hands of her parents.

Passing by a neighbour one day, Sarah said ''Do you know what happened over there, that house with all the police?'' The neighbour replied.

Didn't you read the paper? It was the girl that was known for 'staring out of the window' ''.

Sarah searched the net and got an article up in front of her.

'That young girl was known to many as 'the girl that simply stared'. A face that cried out for help, but her silent cries went unnoticed. May her soul rest in peace''. The article read.

Sarah sat on her couch and cried. She cried the for the face that she knew so well, the image of her imprinted in her mind, but was unknowing to do much to help. A face she would never see again.

Monday, 11 October 2010

For It Was

For it was the early morning starts to a dead end job with minimum pay

The endless calls for 'dinner is ready!''

The kids expected a divine roast with all the trimmings to add

Instead they met with the same disappointment of a little less than

It was the endless walk from the job to the bus stop

The need to buy better shoes to endure the walk

But having not enough to meet the need

For it was the annoyance of being sprayed with dirty street water by a passing car

Patiently waiting for the little man to turn green for the road to be crossed

It was the letters through the post, reminders of endless debts to pay

It was the sheer audacity to rise up against the game of the system

For it was the need for a better tomorrow to overcome the lesser yesterday

It was the empty stares through a clear glass window

At the skies that held so much

It was the need to be like so many on the big screen

That lead to the fall to realise the rise was in being yourself

It was the mistakes of yesterday that highlighted the promises of tomorrow

It was the lack of Him that accentuated the need for Him

It was the constant question of ''why?''

That lead to the answer ''because''

It was the questioning of ''what is'' that answered ''I Am''

It was the need for a better tomorrow that lead

To finding early morning starts for a good reason

The dinner call to be had around the table with a sumptuous supply

The empathy at seeing another sprayed with dirty rain water

The letters through the post littered with postcards and good news

The encounter with self belief against status quo

The embrace of the past to help shape a better tomorrow

The acceptance of being true to oneself

For it was the acceptance of simply being



Some want more than others, some have less than. Some have what is not needed, and some give away the essentials. Some have bruises all over after taking a beating, and some preen and prance being in a totally perfect place.

But no matter the place, no matter the journey, no matter the mistake and no matter the heartbreak, we are, simply human. Living in a world that is very human, but we are not to be a part of the statistic.

Stand up, even if your limping, the ground is now beneath you and not under you. Need crutches? At least you sought some help and support.

Sprinting? You are way ahead, keep running, but don't forget to lend a hand. Either way, if your eye is on the Sparrow, the ''Why?'' and ''Because'' and ''What is?'' and ''I Am'' then makes a little more sense.

Saturday, 9 October 2010

Birds of A Feather

One was exultant, the other ecstatic

One was triumphant, the other was successful

One was humorous, the other, comical

One was bouyant, the other was insouciant

One was disheartened, the other dismayed

One was despondent, the other, dejected

One was negative, the other was cynical

One was cantankerous, the other, hostile

A sound.

Flapping of wings, off into the sky.

Birds of a feather flocking together.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

As Midnight Passes

Indeed it is, that as midnight passes, moonlight makes her appearance

The decadence of yesterday no longer has a hold on tomorrow

Indeed it is, that as midnight passes, the stars shine in the twilight, a chorus in harmony

The constellations cannot withhold its joy at the promises of what lies beyond

Indeed it is, that as midnight passes, the wind softly passes

The universe echoes as the sound of its voice reverberates and meet with the maker

Indeed it is, that as midnight passes, the leaves on the trees sway to the gentle breeze

Couples croon on the beach under the warm moonlight

Indeed, it is as midnight passes,

A small child huddles under the warmth of her mothers arms

Indeed it is as midnight passes, tomorrow prepares for another day

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

The X Factor

She walked on to the stage and the held the mic tight until her knuckles began to turn white.

She stared out at the judges that looked and smiled. They were expectant, they wanted a return.

She took in the crowd, the lights, and stood still ready to give her very best.

Upon being prompted by the judges to begin, she began to sing. She opened her mouth and the words seemed to escape her, she coughed, and whispered, stopped and stared back bleary eyed, and confused.

Concerned looks from the judges, she got a second chance. She tried again. Attempted the first note. The peanuts that she was advised not to eat but ate anyhow somehow made its way up as she coughed and spluttered, full blown tears running down her face.

''I'm sorry'' she mouthed into the mic. ''The peanut,'' she gasped. ''It's stuck.''

''Unfortunately, there seems to be a problem.'' The judges echoed each other.

''Sorry'' she said again frantic, waving her hair out of her eyes. ''I just broke up with my boyfriend, I suffer from acute panic attacks, I just lost an earring and my wig wont stay on straight.''

There was silence as the judges looked at each other.

''And don't forget the peanut'' she pointed to her throat, coughing slightly, eyes streaming.

She was dressed for the part, ripped jeans, army jacket, high heeled boots.

''She looks the part at least'' one judge said. ''That's all that matters right?''

She looked to them, clutching on to her mic, waiting for the verdict. If she had the courage she would have run of stage right away, but her heels were too tight and her blisters cried back at her. She stood, shaking, crying, make up streaming and hair a mess.

A pause, and a deliberation.

''It's a yes from me'' one judge said.

''Its a yes from me too'' the other replied

''I think you have something, its a yes from me too''.

In disbelief she stared back, she flung herself on to the stage and wailed until she had to be carried off stage. She manged a ''thank you'' before she was lead away.

''Do you think we made the right decision?'' one judge asked the others? ''she seemed a little fragile no?''

''Makes for perfect TV'' The others grinned. ''Forget about the more talented, it's not about that anyway.''

''So you made it through,'' the host hugged her as she stood back stage. ''What advise would you give to others?''

She took a deep breath, thought long and hard, then replied ''Don't sing, cry like you just lost your mama and pretend your life is ending''.

''Great advice'' the host cried.

''Welcome to The X Factor!!''

Tuesday, 5 October 2010

Beautiful Beyond Description

She picked up the mirror and stared at her reflection.

Cold icy blue eyes stared back at her.

''Don't stare too long at anyone,'' her brother once jeered ''you might kill somebody.''

Her eyes smirked as they observed the scar below her chin, and the one above her eye.

''I love you'' her boyfriend had cried as he cradled her in his arms after smashing a glass into her face.

Her inner eye screamed at the scars that lay deep within.

Her oddly shaped lips were twisted and her facial demenour was one of that who saw another as repulsive.

''You are so ugly!'' her school friends taunted. ''So tall and lanky, and those braces!Buck teeth! Buck teeth!'' they cried. She hid her smile under tight lips.

Her cheek bones were too high, and her hair only accentuated it. She ran her hands over her short cropped hair.

''I am ugly, ugly, ugly!'' she cried.

She threw down the mirror and struggled to pull on her jeans to fit over her mishapen legs. and top and ventured out to fulfill her weekly desire.

She would hand out food to the homeless, speak to the less privileged and offer comfort to those hurting.

She was always aware that others would stare at her as she walked the streets. She hid her face under her hood and covered her lips with her hand. Her tall legs were bandy as they knocked into each other as she walked.

''Excuse me miss.'' She felt a tap on her shoulder.

A man smiled as he stared at her face. She was exquisite in her appearance. Her eyes. They were a soft warm blue, emulating a desire to be understood as they stared back at him, wide in all their innocence.

''I've been watching you for a while, and I think you are incredible.''

Her face was a small strawberry shape, nothing special, but the insouciance that she portrayed was undeniable.

''Your blue eyes hold so much warmth, and that scar under your chin helps me to recognise you.''

The man held onto his bottle and swayed. His dirt caked hands touched her cheek.

''Your heart and desire for those less fortunate is what makes you,'' he stammered.


Back at home, she stared back and saw the image of who she was truly meant to be.


''You are beautiful beyond description
Too marvelous for words
Too wonderful for comprehension
Like nothing ever seen or heard.''

Singing songs in praise to Him, we who are made in His image, exalting His name for the wonder that He is, and all that He has created.

Yet when we look at our reflections we discredit Him by making judgment at the one whom he created, because we see our selves through the eyes of somebody else.

Made in the image of the One you were made in the image of.

See Him in your reflection.

You are blessed, you are accepted, you are beautiful.

Sunday, 3 October 2010

It Was Love

It was Love that gave up that which was known to be in the face of such adversity

It was Love that carried the burden even when it sought to pull downwards

It was Love that threw dust in the face of that which sought to bring it down

It was Love from who's forehead drops of blood poured out

It was Love that whispered 'silence' when all hell should have broken loose

And it was Love that showed righteous indignation in the face of hell breaking loose

It was Love that denied His own will, and gave to a higher purpose

It was Love that gave up that which was known to be in the face of such adversity

It was Love that wept for you and I

It was Love that sent His son to die

Thursday, 30 September 2010

What Next?

''My efforts weren't bad'' Katrina said. ''I made 'Britain's Next Top Model'.''

''Katrina, Elle McPherson told you to work on your profile and go on a diet, and you were the first to leave'' Sonia replied.

''Yeah, well, 'X Factor' was alright. I got through to Boot Camp'' Katrina smiled.

''That was because Simon Cowell was speechless because of your off key vocals, he wanted to see what you would do next.''

'' 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' then?'' Katrina laughed. ''I could have won the Million!''

''You said Candy Floss was a form of tooth cleaner for the £100 question!' Sonia frowned.

''What about 'I'm A Celebrity! Get Me Out Of Here!' then? '' Katrina scowled.

The wig you put on to look like Jordan fell off after you all had to run through the jungle. They certainly got you out of there! And fast!''

'' 'Come Dine With Me?' I cooked the roof off the house in that'' Katina said.

''You scored 0 points hon, the contestants found burnt cat hairs and whiskers in the starter, main and dessert''.

'' 'Extreme Makeover' rebuilt my whole house!'' Katrina cried.

"Katrina, they evicted you since the house was still owned by the council, you hadn't paid the rent and you didn't get permission to redecorate!''

'' 'Jeremy Kyle!' I was a guest on his chat show at least!''

''It was obvious you were lying after you said you were 3 months pregnant then had the baby 10 months later.''

'' 'Four Weddings' then'' Katrina said. ''You know I was the best bride.''

''After hiring the groom and guests to appear at your make believe wedding, and the groom saying 'I don't' no you, most definitely weren't''.

''Ok, ok, 'Britain's Got Talent.' You can't say anything about that.'' Katrina clapped her hands gleefully.

''You set fire to the stage after trying to juggle 35 tennis balls on fire?'' Sonia sighed.

Katrina sat nursing her burnt hands wrapped in gauze.

''I'm thinking of 'The Weakest Link' next''.

Monday, 27 September 2010

Blessed Assurance

He had stood nervous and full of trepidation. His fingers worked themselves into the visual of what his mind simply was. A mangled cohesion of a nervous mess. He remembered the words he had read and instantly his demeanor changed as he remembered his authority.

''There goes the man with the book!'' Many jeered behind their restricted walls as he walked down the green mile. ''What can that dumb book of yours do to save you now?''

His clothes were torn, the dirt upon him was obvious as others turned to stare. His attire was of someone in desperate need. His face was dirty, the lines underneath his eyes only exemplified a life that proved challenging. His jumpsuit hung loosely from days of not being able to eat. His once orange apparel was now a dirty brown hue, from him came a smell that made others step away in repulsion.

There seemed to be a desperation to him. He nodded at a silent voice so familiar in his head. Memories, so many memories and so many mistakes. He could no longer hold back, as the tears rolled down his face. His mistakes led him away, chained at his feet and hands.

''What is your last meal request?'' He was asked.

''Roast beef and potatoes is my favourite'' was his choked reply.

The warden nodded and granted his simple request. He tried to be strong, he had inner peace, but one could never be prepared for such a time as this.

''I'll take this now'' the warden pointed to his book. ''You won't be needing that''.

She was right, he didn't really need it, he knew most of what was written between the pages, the words were rooted in his heart and they had been his meditation for some time now.

He was lead to a room with a lone bed and two administrators. He closed his eyes as he was strapped down ready to face his fate.


He opened his eyes and stared around him as his heart raced. He looked down at his feet and nibbled at his blackened finger nails. He wriggled the toes that peeped out from his tattered shoes and spat out the dirt from under his nails.

''Watch it would you?'' A woman cried as she turned to look at him, wiping away the spot of dirt that had caught her in the back of head. She looked him up and down, shook her head in disgust as she grunted.

He stared straight ahead. He was in a large room full of others seated in order holding a ticket in their hands. Everyone looked impeccably dressed, shoes shone, hair in place. He wanted to crawl into a small hole. He didn't feel any different. He had expected to, but this wasn't what his minds eyes had expected.

''Where am I?'' he asked.

''This is the Waiting Room.'' The woman replied, she felt compassion at the fear in his eyes.

''Don’t worry'' She smiled. ''Look''. She stood behind him pointing.

He turned around, his breath taken away by the sight before him. A light that was all consuming shone down as an array of stars twinkled within the light. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head low. He was afraid to look any further. Rays upon rays of brightly coloured rays of light, sprinkled forth. He ran forward and was stunned as he crashed into an invisible wall. Through the wall he could see some activity ahead of him, people moving ahead.

He looked up as a bell chimed loudly yet softly as a woman called out: ''Number 102 please approach the gate.''

He looked at her closely, his nose pressed to the invisible wall and stood back in surprise. She was adorned in simple delight. From the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes, she shone. She glowed a hue enough that would make another run to be close to her. Her voice emulated the warmth of a thousand suns.

Everything in this place seemed so unreal. He stared at the ticket in his hand, he was No 20049.

He looked further through the wall and saw another like the beautiful one in front of him. He could only liken her to some sort of ethereal being. She was on her knees, her arms were out stretched upwards as tears ran down her face.

''Number 350 please.'' The voice sang.

He looked further on and saw another, then another and another. As he looked closely, he realised there were thousands of these ethereal beings all around him, it was as if they made up part of the light. He reached out to touch them, but his hands met again with the invisible wall. They walked forth to set of pearl gates. Gates that stood tall encased in the arm of unexplainable presence, and emulated beauty, wisdom, knowledge, love, peace and joy. His heart beat fast as he took in the glorious sight.

''I'm dying!'' He cried out as clutched at his chest unable to comprehend the vision. ''I'm dying!''

''Sweetheart calm down,'' the woman he had spat on patted him on his back looking at him sympathetically. ''Calm down. That's already happened, you're just waiting for your turn to get through now.''

He bowed his head low to the floor. In the midst of a myriad of bodies encased in white, he felt he was the least of them all. He stared down at his unsightly being. He sunk down lower on his knees. Oh he knew what the book had said, but maybe that wasn't enough.

He stood up straight as he heard the bell chime, another had been called forward. Another glowing saintly being lead to a majestic white set of oyster pearl white gates.

He was aware of the sneers that were directed at him in the Waiting Room, the looks of disapproval at his attire. He could only gaze at the wonder that stood before him though, why were so many eyes watching him? His eyes could only focus upon that which was ahead, why did so many turn away from the magnificent sight to focus on him that which was less than?

Those memories, and all his mistakes. They came flooding back as he waited. Maybe they could all see right through him.

He remembered the reason that had brought him here. He had pushed a woman down the stairs in attempt to escape her nagging, incessant advice, pushed her so hard that the coroners could only declare her dead.

Her family had not stopped in a moment to seek justice for the death of that woman, their mother, his wife. This had resulted in his 267 day trial resulting in an adjudication of lethal injection on death row.

The Holy book had helped him to understand who he really was and all that lay before him. He had made a point to apologise to those he had hurt and sought forgiveness from above.

He stood holding his ticket in his hand.

''Lord'' He cried as he sunk down on his knees again finding himself in a place he had never expected to be so soon. ''Father, I believe in you!!''.

It was then, that he realised what that bright light meant to him. He was ecstatic when his number was called.

''Number 20049 please!''

After what seemed a lifetime, after a lifetime of memories, shame, regrets, forgiveness, acceptance, he stood up and stepped forward.

He stared at the ticket in his hand. One foot in front of the other, he could only bow back down on his knees in awe at the majestic power that shone before him.

''I believe, I believe, I believe!'' he cried.

As he stood and stepped out of the waiting room, the scent that surrounded him was all consuming. He couldn't put his finger on it but it was an unforgettable competition of exquisite scents of honey blossoms and sweet lemon drops, lavender burnt wood and cinnamon topped with orange zest along with laughter, joy and a deep sense of belonging. He took in a deep breath and sighed at the aroma that invaded his nostrils.

He could not comprehend the great being that turned the book of life, recited his name and waved him in, ushering him into those pearly gates.

He looked down at himself as he realised he was now embraced in echoes of white light, just as those that had gone before him. Overwhelmed by the beauty of his being and presence that seemed to overtake him, he simply cried.

''Why did I make it? You saw the mess my life made. Why?''

A smile so warm and inviting as the Angel simply replied.

''What you saw in the Waiting Room was yourself in your own eyes.'' The Angel smiled. A smile so warm, he melted and fell at his knees.

''His words of forgiveness were already written upon your heart the moment you chose to believe. Now you are seen through the eyes of the Father, your Lord, your Saviour. His mercy and your faith brought you here.''

She pointed ahead as he followed her direction ahead and took in a sharp intake of breath at the wonder before him. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he was lifted upwards and into the place that has been prepared for him.

''Go'' the Angel wept tears of joy, "Your Father awaits you''.


Inspired by the Teresa Lewis case.

Friday, 24 September 2010

Be Right Back


I may be silent for a while, but I am merely thinking of wonderful stories and anecdotes that may bless you, plus trying to engage in some other priorities that are calling!

Keep checking in and re-read posts of old.

We shall continue our rendezvous soon!

Much Love,

Fatima x

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

He Is For You

I close my eyes and I think back to a time when I knew this one girl

She was hot fresh off the street, her whole attire spoke of some ghetto lifestyle

I had finished performing in a small church gospel concert, singing the songs I had written to many that would hear it, and there she was

She looked at me and said, ''I liked the way you sang, your words, they really touched me''

Her eyes were sad, her smile barely reached

Traveling from Manchester to Bristol, Reading to Huddersfield, and Leeds,

Czech Republic, all over to spread the word through song

To those that hadn't even read it

She was the epitome of my reasons for the myriad of early morning rises and long extended travels

I smiled, ''thank you sweet girl, here take my number if you ever want to talk''

Oh, and talk did she do

But most of all she spoke her heart

Said she was going through some things, had some things to work out

She shared her innermost secrets

I left holding her heart in my hand

''What do I do with this, Sweet Lord?'' I asked

''Show her some hospitality'' He said

Spent time talking, advising, rebuking, approaching, laughing and chilling

Getting to know this sweet young girl opened my heart to a place

Where my heart was opened to share the place where God lived

She had been met with much negativity

See she was beautiful and kind, her thoughts were towards others

''Despite the brick wall I face, what about me?'' she said

''Despite my obvious failures, and my desire to sometimes stay in that dreadful place

where I should not be, what about me?''

''You were made to be just you. God loves you despite you'' I smiled

''But all my mistakes.'' She wept. ''So many are they. Yet I feel that all they see is my mistakes''

She cried, tears fell down her face

''I have been awful in the past, and I was blinded by desires'' She said

''Now they tell me what I should do as if they are part of the Military''

''Don't worry about them,'' I said, ''Just keep being you''

''In time you will understand. He is the only one you need to please''

She smiled and slept and dreamed a sweet dream

A dream of grace, a dream of power, a dream of love and a dream of sound mind

She woke to realise that unconditional love was the essence to her being

That nothing that could separate her from the love of the One who reciprocated her hearts intent

''God is amazing!'' She cried. ''He loves me for no matter what!''

Smiles from me, so glad that she now understood the heart of the One who so loved her

Smiles from Him so glad that she understood His heart towards her, the one He so loved

Smiles from Him because she at last knew, that He was for her

Just as He is for you.