Blinking lights

“Look at those beautiful ones on that old house!” I’ve never seen them before, maybe the old lady had died. One of the children that walked in a group of four pointed out as they walked around the small village looking at the Christmas lights on different houses.

“No she did not, I saw her yesterday but she looked very weak. Maybe someone had helped her”. One of the little boys exclaimed. Suddenly a small dog ran out from no where towards the fence barking at them. While he barked his little tail wagged wildly. He didn’t seem to want to hurt them but they didn’t pay close attention to him. They then took up a few small stones and threw them at the dog.

Soon as the stones crossed the fence, they changed into little gift packages. The little dog then ran on tiptoe-like to pick them up.

The children were amazed to see what had happened. They felt ashamed of themselves at the time of the stone pelting. The dog disappeared from sight after the last package was taken up. They looked at each other speechless. Knowing that they should not have stoned the fenced dog, they did not mention what had happened to anyone.

Time passed. Christmas day came by and all the little children were delighted to know what they had got for the holidays.

The less fortunate children however, were indifferent, as they knew they were not going to have any gifts at all.

But…. that morning they ran out of their separate homes screaming in delight. They had sparkling little gift packages in their hands. The four children who had thrown the stones at the dog, recognized the packages with surprise.

They learned that day, their misdeeds had spawned a happy moment for the less fortunate among them…

As they grew, they themselves remembered to never hurt animals and that others who were less fortunate were to be treated with kindness.

The end.


For something

Sometimes, somethings are for love

Sometimes, somethings are for fun

Sometimes, somethings are for nothing

Sometimes, something is everything we need.

I have lost all reason,

To believe in a season, though,

All the seasons I believe,

Have a reason.

But what I must comprehend,

Is the folk at the bottom end.

What sometimes I cannot find

Is the something I need.


Let me heal

Let me heal, oh let me heal,

Though the scar remains raw within,

Never blotting out the sin.

Cover me, oh cover me

Let me heal within.

A mothers’ love was never known,

Like a rose, left upon a stone,

The company, never cared

From riches to rags,

Laid I bare.

I wore my dads’ shaven beard,

Which sheilded me from wanton men,

And kept me warm though he was dead,

Yet I lived these thirthy years,

No joy of family ever felt.

Still await my heart to quiver,

For joy that sings like a river.


Life goes on

After ripping your heart apart,

Get over it! They say….

You must heal it yourself.

Let it go, life goes on….anyway.

What they do not see,


The shattered pieces

To sort,



Store away,

The corrupted actions,

Actions which abused me.


Learn to be, as they have been

To shield your now fractured heart

From the wiles of hate bestowed.

From this new place,

Smiles come by with silent

Refraining eyes,

An armoured sheild around the heart

Which will never be the same.

The Lover’s Rest

Leading away from the depths of my mind,

I came to a halt at his door.

Braving every emotion,

I knocked and awaited an answer.

I waited…

Three years.

Alas! Swings the blank door and

He whom my soul searched for,

Hovered above me, with eyes of burning gold.

He smiled as he beckoned me to enter

The dark space he occupied.

And as the dark enveloped us,

The light of love stabbed through my heart!

Memories shared, passed before us,

Fading into the night-like space.

Our young selves fleeting,

With the breath we once held dear.

Our children grown and productive

Made us proud when we lived.

And so ended the life of flesh

Which once separated us for three lonely years.


Imagine 1

As he unraveled the last thread,

The fight within died.

His palms fell off the edge of humanity’s frail bed,

As his spirit rose to start anew.

No longer sad but bemused by the tragic end,

Of a body failed by the tragedy of a failed system created by man!

No looking back, for there was a dark space, nothing to see.

And so, forward he went into a place,

Where only his imagination had once been able to conjure.

Celestial bodies, preparing for war.

He grinned, for so long within him

Yearned the desire of soldierhood.

The desire to help the weak,

The desire to brave it all

To desire to fulfil a thirst of completion.

The completion of brotherhood!


Speaking Pages #7

Colored or white, crumpled or smooth,

Pages alight, with words running crude,

Words which can heal and tears of joy bring,

Or sting so to break, a heart once strong, no more can sing.

Pages give glory, to writers great or small,

Speaking truth on lines or not at all!

Harken we swear by black and white,

Pages are gifts to man’s lonely plights.

In darkest hours, one sits and dwells,

Brooding over pages as they swell,

With treacherous words, as valleys and bogs,

Danger lurks as the hand crosses the word ‘love.

On this plain of thin sheet grain,

A writers’ pain is poured in vain,

Searching the strip for the words to appear,

The page ends with splattered tears.



Hi dears,

So yes. I am excited, but first I am sorry to have stayed away so long again. Life and its exciting extremes!! Maybe, am bipolar, but nonetheless, I am carrying on.

I do hope all my fans on here are well and in good spirits.

So yess! Am excited to have you all know that my short story is being worked on… Drawings for my review came in yesterday, just when I started to figure it was about time I had some feedback. I can see the painstaking time they ( took to bring chalk drawings to life!! My wait was worth it… Baby Steps I know they would be captivating to future readers of the story.

I am now awaiting a timeframe for release I believe, since the hardest part ( at least I think so) is done.

Being a short story, am not sure if I should give sneak peeks, but I will certainly ask your opinion on a suitable cover when that time comes.

Ohhh. I am soo trying to contain myself!

Those of you who have published your first or more books, how did you feel before and after?

I will love your feedback.

Vearna Gloster.

Baby steps

I all my adult life, I did not think about it enough.

That book publishing, is super hot!

I esteemed and wrote so much, a fine lot,

My excitement has taken the higher notch.

Am proud, my patience I wore very well,

Or I might have been an author known, only here.

My heart is full I must now say,

I signed my contract just today….

Bear with me a little longer,

I will furnish your reader’s hunger,

From a fairy land of buzz,

I hope to keep my readers love.

I too thirst, for the life it brings,

To hold in my hands my thoughts, worded in ink!