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.

©2017~VearnaGloster

Gifts

The deaf wish to hear,

The blind wish to see,

The dumb want to speak,

And the lame want to walk.

But we who have it all,

Hear not properly,

See not, aspiringly,

Speak not positively,

Nor walk with purpose.

These gifts not granted to some,

A sad song sung for centuries,

Unable to be given freely,

We now fight through technology,

To establish a gift for the ungifted.

©2019~VearnaGloster

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.

©2017~VearnaGloster

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!

©2019~VearnaGloster

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.

©2019~VearnaGloster

Lost

I visited you inside my mind.

You were not there, for you I pined.

My search for you never a bore ,

but today you do not answer the door.

Oh deepest darkest soul of mine,

You empowered me when I was blind.

To escape this realm of woe,

There were no other place I know.

You were the one to make me smile,

You were the one I told goodnight,

You were the one that shared my love.

Is it that I have lost you now?

Is it that love has been blown out,

by the curse of a broken heart,

that you have died, no longer shy,

no longer given to saying goodbye?

Oh soul of mine return to me,

You are my heart’s one symphony.

©2019∼VearnaGloster

 

 

Looking

Looking, not seeing

looking through the frosted glass

hoping for the reflection he knows will pass

not seeing, though looking

at the looking glass.

enters despair,

am I blind?… his thoughts he hears,

alas he looks again and again, then

upon shouting, he gathers his pain

and so the frost from his shout did melt

the mirrored pane.

while looking he saw his reflective hell

that experience he wish to quell.

soon upon his shoulder lay

a tiny mist with golden rays

 imagination so intense

a golden wand did span an arc

and soon his looking

balanced his art.

the mirror his heart

the reflection his hurt

the mist his will

the looking his path

all in rising from a broken past.

©2018∼VearnaGloster

Tests, etc

My dearests,

My absence is due to loads of readings and exams with the soon closing of the semester.  My time management on this forum sucks, but I hope this changes as the present course I am doing is speaking of this as well.  Training to be a self directed learner is proving both exciting and challenging.  Yes, am lamenting… but all the same, my first score was very good!  yeaa to that indeed!  Enough on exams and the pains thereof.

I do remember writing about Friday hopes, where I was to meet my editor for the short story’s progress on being edited.  I was disappointed and of course I voiced my disappointment to her on the late start to doing my edits.  However, we got past that, she did apologise and I relented.  It was not a best first experience and am sure many of you may have had such with editors and deadlines.  If you did, you can drop me a link if written of.  I am still deciding on a name.

On the flip side, though she went 2 days  beyond my deadline, I am elated to say that yes, it is completely edited and to be revised by  another editor whom I have found not to long after.  My graphics artist is helping with the cover and other minor adjustments.  I have to publish this year, have to, have to, have to, have to.

The compendium of prose and poetry is already formatted for printing.   I liked ‘The Sungoddess’ as the name but my graphics artiste and others I have asked about it, do not. This too, is being decided upon for its name and cover.  All in all with where my work has come too this far, I feel proud to have kept moving, even though it may be slow.

Like the turtle and the tortoise my dears, never ever give up.

Never think that you are not going to meet that finish line.

Look at the things that you need to change around you and do just that.

Always look deeper within.

Write again soon.  Can’t wait to catch up on some of your writings too.

Vearna

Quiet

my soul is magnified

it wishes to burst forth with joy

shhhh, my dear soul

answer not and do not spill

the thoughts that impregnate your heart.

shhhhhhh, murmur not the sounds of joy

that light your belly aglow

they are unable to bear such truths of

many years ago

be quiet my soul

as one day the accepting soul will come

to share of the joy you own.

©2018∼VearnaGloster