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Daily Archives: March 22, 2016

Jewels of spirit

From the world of spirit we are,

In time we shall return,

On loan to this material world,

To gain knowledge and to learn,

Sent by the God of wisdom,

A jewel from the eternal force,

Where everyone is perfect,

For they all have their spiritual source.

Only when they touch the material,

Lead astray they become unsure,

Only then is that jewel unreal,

For within there lies a flaw,

So to all the jewels of spirit,

Let the light of God shine bright,

Be a jewel that always glitters,

Like the stars that dazzle at night.

Be proud that you are spirit,

Explain to those that are blind,

To learn all they can from this world,

To be helpful patient and kind.

When that jewel is returned,

It will have increased its value and more,

To sparkle with those in spirit,

Who live under spiritual law?

No matter what jewel you are,

Together you all will stand,

Treasures in Gods kingdom,

A wealth under his command.

G Bradshaw

A Morning Stroll (after the tragedy)

The trip to Jerusalem


St George came to Nottingham

To meet his old mate Robin Hood

They went for a drink in

The Trip to Jerusalem

An old local pub,

St George always loved the taste of good ale

So when Robin told him a very good tale

The tale of the dragon

That roamed across the land

After a few drinks

They thought of a very cunning plan

To capture the dragon,

That roamed across the land

But Robin had only seen the dragon

Once he’d had a drink

So this of course made St George rethink

He asked himself

Are the dragons all extinct?

The locals say dragons aren’t real

It’s a matter of opinion

How do you feel?

Thomas Sims

You are the sun – Promote Yourself


You’re the sun I never shun

Besides you, I cherish none

You’re the prize I’ve ever won

For hard times, joy and fun

You proved to be the one


You’re my source of light

You made my life so bright

I am ravished with delight

Whether here or out of sight

I remain your grateful knight


© Chaouki Mkaddem

June 3rd, 2014


Chaouki M’kaddem
Senior EFL teacher,
Ministry of Education, Tunisia

Social butterfly

Are you a social butterfly?

Fluttering from tree to tree?

Are you like the Red Admiral?

So bold and daring, fighting to be free?

Or are you trying to escape the chaos
That cities can bring?

Or maybe you are the social butterfly
That has to have everything

Whoever you are, the next time you are
fluttering from tree to tree

Stop to think, where it is that you would
really like to be,

Where it is that you would like to rest your wings

In the city or countryside?

Where you may still continue to be a social butterfly,

Do consider, not breaking too many hearts

Respect this as a brand new start

Sometimes you may have to pay the price,

For being so bold and free

Whenever you flutter from tree to  tree,

It is only you that can decide

Where to settle your wings

It is only you
That can change many things

By Gillian Sims

The Spring Equinox -Famous Poets


Now is the pause between asleep and awake:
Two seasons take
A colour and quality each from each as yet.
The new stage-set
Spandril, column and fan of spring is raised against the
winter backdrop
Murrey and soft;
Now aloft
The sun swings on the equinoctial line.
Few flowers yet shine:
The hellebore hangs a clear green bell and opulent leaves
above dark mould;
The light is cold
In arum leaves, and a primrose flickers
Here and there; the first cool bird-song flickers in the thicket.
Clouds arc pale as the pollen from sallows;
March fallows are white with lime like frost.This is the pause between asleep and awake:
The pause of contemplation and of peice,
Before the earth must teem and the heart ache.
This is the child’s pause, before it sees
That the choice of one way has denied the other ;
Must choose the either, or both, of to care and not to care;
Before the light or darkness shall discover
Irreparable loss; before it must take
Blame for the creature caught in the necessary snare:
Receiving a profit, before it holds a snare.






In March exact shadows on snow,

blue in the spectrum overtakes lavender;

the pillows of vapor at a slow bedroom gallop.


Up, up, the whistle pierces; the burn

of one and one, couples the rising

yearn, twin twine, dare,

and thickening flash in shoals.


Even deep-rooted conifers,

their green wax fangs open,

hustling in the languorous swells.


— Ruth Stone

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