BEATING HEART

BEATING HEART
"Many a beating heart is silenced by the tyranny of indifference." ~Michael Faudet

THE PUREST PLACE

THE PUREST PLACE
"Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place in your heart… where your hope lives. You’ll find your way again.” ~Everwood (Trust Your Journey)

The Bible says

"a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of things which he possesseth."

30 August 2022

THE STORY I DREAMT - FINAL

STORY by Leah C Dancel


THE STORY  I DREAMT - FINAL

The story erstwhile: Rinclair and Rufil went on separate ways going home to their respective places. Heaviness was in their hearts, but they both vowed to keep in touch with each other.

While home and back to resuming their area of responsibility at work, they buried their heads to doing what they needed to do. And, with a great deal of care and as focused  as if nothing happened. Rinclair, by the way, worked as a Surgical Nurse in a prestigious hospital in their locality.

Distance and work didn't dampen their enthusiasm. Feelings for each other were nurtured to grow. Amidst gruelling workloads, they set aside a time when they could exchange notes of everything very important to them. Patience is a virtue. As time went on, soon their romance had found a way for them to consider their future.

They decided to go back to the same place where they were set up to meet. In there, Rufil proposed to Rinclair on his bended knee presenting her with a beautifully wrapped tiny box of exquisite dainty diamond ring. Rinclair was emotionally teary-eyed but very happy. She said Yes without much ado.

It was at this junction that their family and friends appeared and stormed them with congratulatory surprises. They were the mechanics behind the love machine that revved up their hearts to pump, an impossible mission to do, but somehow unexpectedly succeeded.

More revelations were told at the reception on their wedding day. No less than the parents of both the groom and the bride were as over the moon as the newlyweds were that finally their bond of everlasting friendship has been sealed through the marriage of their children. The parents of the newly married couple were childhood friends.

Authored by Leah C. Dancel
Copyright @2020
All rights reserved
August 28, 2020
AUSTRALIA

ANTIPODEAN WINTER

By Leah C Dancel



ANTIPODEAN WINTER

Room tempered warmness
Renders me sleeping cosy
Outside wind howling recklessly 
Though the night seems soundless

Dozing off 'till dawn
Feeling the biting frost 
Foggy ambience in lambent darkness
Dissipating slowly till they vanish.

Days are getting warmer
As imminent Spring is in the air
Bees abuzzing in garden fair 
Happy to see their blossoms' lair.

I say goodbye to antipodean winter
All heavy cloaks and frocks away
I love colder weather to searing summer
Don't get me wrong, but I love to play.

 © Leah C Dancel
 Copyright © August 30, 2022
 All rights reserved
 SH-AUSTRALIA 

Photo credit to Megan Duckworth,
"Spring Meets Winter"
Orange NSW
ABC Sydney
August 27, 2020

OBEISANCE in SILENCE

By Leah C Dancel




OBEISANCE in SILENCE

Silence is the only duty
I must obey
Dumbed by the piercing stare
from the shadow - nowhere
Why must words be spared?
Where's the eloquence of merit?

Why the ashen embers 
of the sun slumber
And bestrew silence in the glen
Will the rain quench them
as they lay in meadow green?

Traipsing on tumultuous lane;
Bespeaking of unspeakable scene,
Yet, silence is the only language heard 
A duty of unfailing obeisance.

© Leah's C Dancel
Copyright © August 30, 2022
All rights reserved
SH-AUSTRALIA 

Photo: Baha'i Temple Garden
Ingleside NSW
(Northern Sydney)
August 28, 2022

28 August 2022

WHY SHALL I COUNT MY JOY

Today, August 28, 2022




Thank you Gil Marvel P. Tabucanon, Leah Dancel, and Justinian Tabucanon for a great bonding today.

Here’s a poem I wrote today dedicated to the three of you, inspired from Emily Dickinson’s masterpieces.

Why shall I count my joy –
When all the leaves fall – in the ground?
And by itself – Nature obeys to Law,
Without hesitation or complaints –
So, why shall I also count my pain –
When walking is all but a way
To bless the earth with your presence?

When a small bud of trees – appears –
Remember – you are called to feel –
Both joy and pain like Life itself –
Sitting in the ground – waiting for the rain –
So that one day you can kiss the heaven

~ Rado Gatchalian, 28 Aug 2022, Macquarie University

27 August 2022

KITCHEN RULES

August 27, 2022
Passage 



"Kitchen Rules" by Leah Dancel, published on ILA Mag Blog.
Her delightful passage was chosen as a "Best Entry" from the July 15th
"Anything Friday."


Kitchen Rules"
Written by © Leah Dancel

Baking is the best thing for me to do when there is no net intruder at home. I have all the free time to think of being creative. Not in writing, but in other areas pertaining to the kitchen rules I devised for myself. One of which is: "Time is precious, use it creatively."


Kitchen is the hub of my homey day to day activity. It's the only place where I spend most of my time outside the internet from preparing to cooking meals, baking and washing dishes.

My kitchen window faces the east where the morning sunrise greets me with glee. The trees are getting taller each day and I love watching the birds flitting about in branches, except this wintertime.

Sometimes, I entertain friends in this limited cubicle when the come around at random and I happened to be cooking.


Though my place is small, my friends don't mind at all. They just enjoy my warm and cozy hospitality. Most importantly, when hunger strikes..."No matter where I serve my guest, it seems they like my kitchen best!"



26 August 2022

L 🌺 I 🌺 F 🌺 E

By Leah C Dancel



Living life simply
Enjoying life contentedly
Smiling at life happily
Thanking life greatly
Living, Enjoying,
Smiling, Thanking

L 🦋 I 🦋 F 🦋 E

For every blessing
that is poured by the rain
swiftly carried by the clouds 
that is blown by the wind.

For every prayer heard
as dawning seeps its first light,
and, sunrise spreads  its rays so bright;
while noonday collaborates 
with sunset
where twilight settles gently 
into the night.

Sweetly, moon and stars 
suspend my dream up 
in the sky 
in a weather known to man
under the sun.

Then my heart is filled with joy
that brings the beauty of peace
rejoicing life through
... music
... poetry and
... prose 

Life makes me grateful
for everything I live
great and small.

©Leah C Dancel
Copyright © February 1, 2009
All rights reserved
SH-AUSTRALIA 













25 August 2022

THE WALK

By Christopher Mercon
Shared with permission 



The Walk

I love to walk
upon a windy morning
  
with an aggressive sky
of dark racing clouds
that gift an occasional mist.
   
Grumpy brown leaves 
on their way to die
flee the scattered ground breeze 
   
only to be caught up
by a fresh whirlwind.

Autumn whispers  
the promise of cooler days
where I w0uld wake— 
  
and walk upon the morning
of an overnight ice storm 
glistening in the sunrise.

© August 2022 Christopher Mercon

Source: ILA Magazine Group 

21 August 2022

POST BIRTHDAY TREAT

Saturday Night with
Sydney Symphony Orchestra
Sydney Opera House Concert Hall
Ray Chen (Violin)
Gemma New (Conductor)





You dreamed of performing here at Sydney Opera House.
Then, you were young.
My dream  wish was to watch a symphony orchestra live on the same place that you dreamed.
It didn't happen when I turned 70, two years ago.
But it happened this year, and it happened last night (August 20, 2022)
As a post 72nd birthday compliment by my eldest daughter.
And of all the blessed luck, I was sitting right there in the middle of the front audience..
Sady minus my daughter because she's unwell.
As the saying goes, the show must go on.
And my two lovely daughters did want me to enjoy the night.
To enjoy is an understatement.
The thing that I most enyoyed about was your vibrant performance to pair off
with Vivaldi's Four Seasons Composition.
I was doubly blessed with the riveting conducting wand slaying of Gemma New's 
highly charged temperament
in bringing the symphony to a breathtaking stirring performance for the whole night.
Congratulations and thank you for making my dream come true.

©Leah C Dancel
August 20, 2022

19 August 2022

LIFE AFLOAT

By Ikwulono Mohammed Senison



Life Afloat

Like taking a deambulation
Living a life of substance
Fill with inspiration,a muse
A swivel drive,a motivation
Trees never live for themselves

A love that umbrella many to joy
Comforting the wounded souls 
Her golden pen always voices, solace
A propitiation, humanity cuddle
She was born to shade humanity
En route the journey of her life
Inspiring humanity to treasure
Every human humane for peace

Today in many years past
A mother in pain of labour
Sang joy to joy her family
With a gift,full of substance
So sanguine to bring progress
Upon her family, announcing
 it to the whole world
"Dancel"must be immortalised
In books and encyclopedia of history
Lady LEAH was born  for this mission

Happy birthday to you
Dearest lady of substance
Your golden pen always voices
The inspiration that muses many
You will live longer to serve humanity
And be reckoned with in records

Happy Birthday LEAH DANCEL
I celebrate your day with words
Inspired me by your writings
You are indeed an ocean of wisdom
That many envols have drink
Their kegs of inspirations

Happy birthday to you
L-eading personality
E-ncouraging muse
A-dvising everyone to be great
H-elping humanity to be united.

    Happy Birthday
  Lady Leah Dancel


18 August 2022

SILENCE IS BLISS

By Anjana Prasad


Lifted from ILA Magazine
Photo designed by Annette Nasser,
Founder/Administrator of ILA 
With permission from the Author 


Silence is Bliss 

In the world full of cacophony and strife Rendezvous with silence is bliss undefined 
Where peace and joy is imbibed 
That calms my mind. 

I rhythmically dance and sing 
in serene calmness 
Exploring myself in deepness 
Voices of silence in inspiring 
Quieting the uproars gradually. 

The profound vastness 
Carry me in the dreamy flow where 
I delve internally 
Bathing myself earnestly 
A sense of exuberance sans speech. 

My conversations with silence quietens my mind 
Nothingness answers, and truth is revealed 
My 'tryst with enigma of silence' remains undefined 
Silence for me is resilience. 

© Anjana Prasad

17 August 2022

BY THE SEA OR ON SWAMPY ROAD




BY THE SEA OR ON SWAMPY ROAD
By Leah C. Dancel 

It was long ago in Pikalawag by the sea 
Where our family lived from town far away;
Our school was in that town fenced in posts and wires 
Its two-miles distance made a two- hours walk repeated twice.

There were only two ways to which we could commute.
Either we crossed the bridge over a putrid swamp - dark and remote
Or opt to walk by the shore and crossed the delta of a river,
Where crocodiles lurked and our life's at stake from unwanted danger. 

On weekdays we heard the roosters' early morning song 
And the dawning winked to herald that 
a new day was born 
They're our nature's clock that made us plough 
The field of duty at home, where we obediently trod. 

On sunny days we cared not much 
Of what's on the road for the fun we had 
By the shore on foot, the tide and waves were our only consort 
Sometimes it's a lonely path to walk alone, on your own discomfort. 

When weather turned sullen and hard rain came 
With pelting drops and there's no shelter around 
High winds swooped and dropped us to the ground; 
We're soaking wet, tired and cried for no one was at the helm. 

Reminiscing those days were incredible but true. 
How we survived without transports to go.
No boat, no ship, no cars, no horse; 
By the sea or swampy road were the only means to go.

On foot by the shore 
On foot by the bridge 
With cowing blackbirds above our head 
And sniffing crocodiles beside. 

My story lives for my posterity to ponder 
How blessed they are to enjoy all these wonders 
That modern times in them are paved 
With everything of comfort they now live. 

Copyright@July 9, 2021
All rights reserved 
SH-Australia 
Filipino Poets in 🌸 Blossoms 
Dex Amaroso's #MyDailyCommute
Challenge 
Photo credit to Pikalawag Department of Tourism

16 August 2022

MY CELESTIAL LIGHT

Photo by permission from Glenn Samuel
With much honour and gratitude. 


Glenn Samuel
©Sniper Photography


My Celestial Light
By Jeffrey Dacanay Cejero
(A birthday tribute on my 72nd)


When I'm all alone in a cold silent night,
When there's no one to talk to,
There's someone who's always ready to listen at my wailing heart
Even we're separated by great distance and time.

When all the stars seize to shine,
When the sky is swallowed by darkness,
There's someone up in the sky
Who shines with her soft golden light.

When my pen is losing its ink and imagination,
When hopes and inspirations are nothing but space dusts,
There's someone who can even make the sea rise
Who smiles from a distance that everything is alright.

This Celestial Light is Nay Leah Dancel.
She's far yet so close to my heart.
Unlike the moon up high that sometimes stops to shine,
Her brightness never ceased to give light, hopes and inspirations.

Happy birthday Nay Leah Dancel . Always keep your soft light radiating and giving inspiration. Thank you for being my "beyond" Moon.

***

YOU: THE CODE

By Cherrie Facun Dancel
and Jearim Dancel Jr aka Jadj
August 17, 2022


Photo Art created by Jadj Dancel
©canvalove

YOU
By Cherrie Facun Dancel 
(Pirouette)

I met you; Friend so true.
Gem like you; Glad to know.
You're my friend; So unfeigned.
God has sent in the mend 
Blessed birthday, Ate.
Blessed birthday, Ate.
May you find happiness,
Love, hope and righteousness,
With everyone you've met
***Along the way you went.
Love you without limit.


THE CODE
By Jadj Dancel
(Ninette)

Link
Into
Our very
Noble kingdom
Together  we shall
Inspire the fire
Grow the love
Even
Roar

Like
Evenings
Against the
Horizon's light
A person shall share
Love, life, tears, fright
Inspire us
Others
Naught

That
Instance
Gracious glare
Expecting no
Return or funfare
Lives just to love
Every one
Around
Her

Loved
Even
Abused by
Her so called "friends"
Loved, cared, shared yet still
Instead of hate
Gave a fight
Even
Roared

Has
Always
Provided
Persevered in
Years to perfect craft
Beloved one
Dearest one
Always
You

Source: ILA Magazine 
August 17, 2022

15 August 2022

RAQUEL

By Leah C Dancel 
A birthday dedication 




RAQUEL
(Acrostic)

R - ravishing beauty resplendent of classic times whose

A - age which bothers not, nor infers, with lines and wrinkles of bottled past

Q - quixotic dreams survive amids resilience and endurance by litmus test

U - unequivocally resolute to face all hurdles and perils without fears of intimidations; an ubiquitous spirit in the hearts of her loved ones.

E - enervated gem of feminine ebbulience, eclectic, effulgent and sanely egalitarian

L - lover of LIFE, LOVE itself and never losing composure under pressure.

© Leah C Dancel
Copyright © August 16, 2022
All rights reserved
SH-AUSTRALIA
#acrostic
#birthday
#dedication

FRAGRANCE OF PEACE

Lifted from the Author 's Page

FRAGRANCE OF PEACE

Flitting dew of happiness
With Lilly's glow of meekness
Radiating flavour of beam
Savouring broken heart to leam

The grimaced faces painted smile
Soothing the grudging minds, un-rile
They fiend grace themselves to friends
And the offences of eon years
Buried in tolerance without fears

This is the spirit, Godly treasured
Building our forms, humanly pleasured
Forgiveness is live let me live
In no room to fear me, no you
But you and me, no deceptive hue
And we keep away ego that deceive

We now swim in the fragrance of peace
Flowing with merriment to pease
Our yesterday, was an ignorance
Study today to keep  peace to hance
To facilitate progress and development
Making our community a peaceful basement.

The fragrance of peace is humanity
Welcoming all humans, no brutality
But with all treasures to behold morality
Where we all regret our bad past in reality.

(C) Ikwulono Mohammed Senison

Comment:
"Humanity is in the heart of those who value humans." ~Leah C Dancel 

Reply: 
Leah Dancel this is a sermonic precept punctiliously rendered as a comment . Thanks dearest ma'am 🙏
~Ikwulono Mohammed Senison 




A VOYAGE HOME

By Leah C Dancel


A VOYAGE HOME
(A dedication to Grace S Natividad)

I've travelled the world by land, sea and air;
traversing distance between east and west
to see what's beyond the horizon fair.

Countries of places I've been were  blest
How empires built, amassing wealth, beyond 
traversing distance between east and west.

Empires built colonies but now they're gone 
Power and might, force and destiny for nought 
How empires built, amassing wealth, beyond 

Greed confounded men that prevailed in thought
This in mind a great lesson to be learned:
Power and might, force and destiny for nought.

Yet, riches and beauty in nature blend
God the Creator divinely designed
This in mind a great lesson to be learned.

My adventures ended with prayer as
I've travelled the world by land, sea and air.
I yearn this voyage home while mem'ries last  
to see what's beyond the horizon fair.

© Leah C Dancel
Copyright © August 15, 2022
All rights reserved
SH-AUSTRALIA
#traveller
#terzanelle 

Photo Credit to Grace S. Natividad 
Neuschwanstein Castle
is a 19th-century historicist palace on a rugged hill above the village of Hohenschwangau near Füssen in southwest Bavaria, Germany. The palace was commissioned by King Ludwig II of Bavaria as a retreat and in honour of Richard Wagner. Wikipedia

NB
(Grace is my former classmate in the College of Pharmacy, Southwestern University, Cebu City)

13 August 2022

THE SWEETEST REFRAIN

By permission from the Author,
Myr Reyes E. Tejada



THE SWEETEST REFRAIN

Amidst the world’s cacophony of sounds
My heart hears the rings of dulcet ones
Melodies for souls searching for some.

Mothers’ croons, rocking babies to sleep
Tots prattling and babbling, kids’ giggling shrieks
While at play under the dazzling sun’s heat.

Chirping birds, buzzing bees, barking dogs
Rustling leaves, breaking waves, murmuring brooks
There is music in every nook.

The whispers of wind in the evening breeze
Night’s serenade caressingly sweet
Transports my soul to a cosmic place.

Pitter-patter of a gentle drizzling rain
Or big raindrops cascading down the drain
Pelting, battering, thrumming, drumming.

Awesome are sounds of nature’s tantrum
Howling winds, the thunders’ bang and boom
The magical symphony of a storm.

The mesmerizing hush of silence
Heart’s pumping thuds, pushing blood to our veins
Echoes of love for life, sweetest refrain.

© Myr Reyes E. Tejada
14/08/2022
Photo source: The Internet

12 August 2022

A TRIBUTE TO ROBYN MAW

By Leah C Dancel

"I count myself in nothing else so happy, as in a soul remembering my good friends." ~ From Richard II by William Shakespeare.


A TRIBUTE TO ROBYN MAW
(Rest in Peace)

The sunset has faded from the view of the world
And veil of darkness slowly came down to cover the dome
The earth has succumbed to sadness
Its grief too heavy to carry when you went to join our Master.

Your loved ones saw you going as you crossed the bridge
Faithful to the end and loyal to your calling:
A loving wife, a dutiful mother, an accomplished grandmother
Even to family friends, community and neighbours, you left nothing behind.

Sorrow and grief may prevail for awhile
But remembrance of your goodwill forever will stay
In the hearts of those whose lives you've touched
Impressed by your kindness, caring ways, friendship and outgoing concern.

Farewell dear Robyn and thank you for everything
Your sleep may be long but soon you'll be awaken
By the trumpet from heaven and angels' choir songs 
You're now in paradise of eternal peace as your earthly journey ends. 

©Leah, Lily and Noemi Dancel
Former neighbours at Pimpala Place
Orange, NSW
August 13, 2022

EVOLVING of SELF

Post by permission from the Author, Lucky Stephen Onyah

#Evolving_Of_Self



One say why evolve
Unaware path to living
Even when it strains

Stagnant water stink
Can't tell journey tale
Nor rejoice in sorrow
To remain at one spot
Yet to live life at fullest
Transitioning is a must

A new job via retraining
Or perhaps finding love
Just don't give up on life
Move and feel life in full
Weep and wipe it away
Then smile and cheer up

Don't remain in status quo
Its suicidal to live in a box
Therein exist inertia/decay
Keep your principles intact
Yet always adjust the sail
It's the route to happiness

By Lucky Stephen Onyah

All Copy Rights Strictly Reserved
          12-08-2022

Image credit to right owner

10 August 2022

A TREE IN SEASON

By Leah C Dancel


A TREE IN SEASON

A tiny seed out from the womb of Mother Earth slowly sprouts
Barely a leaf or two earmarks its existence and flaunts.
Gracefully growing in springtime ready for human's adulation
Fastidious as nature when finest buds and flowers bloom for everyone's delight.

Lo in summer, leaves in green, thick and shady become its frock.
In fashion of trees where human comfort lies
From scorching dryness of fiery air thus vegetation, too, wilts
But trees prevail in majestic template which nature builds.

By autumn, its network of ground claws cling tight beneath the land.
Mustering strength to hold its water vessel reserve
As slowly trunk and limbs undressed for the season;
Shedding barks, leaves falling, to let its soul fly free .

By winter, heavy cold snaps bother not its spirit;
Neither rain, nor sleets, nor chills from winds unleashed.
The body stands naked, proud, confidently assured;
Its graceful posture claims its place under the freezing sky.

Leah C. Dancel
Copyright@August 10, 2020
All rights reserved 
SH-AUSTRALIA 
Australia

7 August 2022

BLACK & WHITE

Lifted from ILA Magazine with permission 

Black & White
By Eric Aguilar



I can feel the coarsely fringed edges
and smell freshly pressed ink as
I read the newspaper with no headlines.
The scenery outside my window
tells my cumbersome character 
to be aware and ready for the next stop.
For the many that hold a grip,
I stand a'scaffold, free to the operation of
locomotion, in a stirring and shifting change.

Row by row, of people I don't know,
all racing the clock to chase their shadows.
The setting sun makes each vessel a
prisoner to schedule. Step after step.
The madness never ceases. 
In fashion faux pas, all the women
readily wear the same woven hats.
And the men's melting mustaches show
their trends from a brisk bit of hot tea.

Lanterns wick draws up the braided 
tallow, a'lit in the looming lack of night.
So it is when life was black and white.
In the big cities rain, black puddles
drown the curbs where the street and
sidewalks meet and crosswalks are 
adorned with smoking manholes leading 
to the underbellies of brash buildings.
The gears of the big city ever turning
to smother sanity's grip on a wit's end.

My thoughts wander to that long,
horse-drawn road where the crisp
country lay claim to acres of vivid sunsets.
Where spring water was drawn from a creek.
A place where nature provides for 
every lack in life. The barefoot place
where the rope swing gave entrance
to that smooth sailing river. I can feel the cold clay between my toes. Remembering
where the fork in the road had a landmark
like the old Oak or the Weeping Willow tree, and missing that simpler time when the 
seeds of my spirit were planted to ignite.
I often reminisce about the simple days,
of when life was black and white.

© Eric Aguilar

5 August 2022

THE GOLDEN YEARS

By David M. Smith




The Golden Years
(rhyming)

The elderly are people who 
were supposed to respect.
So why do they sometimes
become victims of neglect?
They struggle and sacrifice.
Work their fingers to the bone.
But when they get older,
some children take all they own.

I don't know why they 
call them the golden years?
When they’re filled 
with hardships and 
filled with tears.
They worked hard 
all their life. 
Now some are 
treated like dirt.
Parents give us their all.
Should they be the 
ones that we hurt?

Many peoples morals
are declining every day.
Compassion and
respect used to be 
the American way.
We have drifted from God, 
no more prayers in school.
Greed, immorality, 
and selfishness are the rule.

Some people are too busy 
to care for Mom and Dad.
So if Grandpa becomes crippled, 
then it’s just too bad.
Place him in a home, 
like an animal in a zoo.
And visit once a year,
if it’s convenient for you.

If your elderly and mistreated.
Take comfort in the Lord.
Those people who oppress you.
Will be judged by the sword.
Their children are watching.
It'll become a learned behavior.
They'll get placed in a rest home. 
And start screaming for their Savior.

© Edited August 1st, 2022
original written July 1992 by David M. Smith

 This poem may be shared with friends or on social websites, but all of the rights belong to and remain with the author David M. Smith. It is not to be sold, published, or used to make a profit in any way without the author’s written permission.

Source: ILA Magazine Poetry Group 

4 August 2022

THE CHILD'S HEART

Lifted from ILA shared with permission from the Author



THE CHILD'S HEART

The vessel of light in a child
The child within us, loving and wild
She fills us with beauty of creation
And open the world, full of hope, possitivity and action.

She teaches us the value of self-respect and vulnerability
Letting go of the facade with courage and humility
She magnify a gem of wisdom and kinship of love
Extract a vision of beauty, a glimpse of future beyond.

Immanent One, a bringer of Light! 
A thousand suns, magnificent bright!
She embody in every age the absolute transformation
And empower the Presence with joy, love and compassion.

(c) Denia Claret
All Rights Reserved / 080322
Picture Credit: Google

KITCHEN RULES

Passage
Winning Piece



Another blessing to Thank Annette Nasser and ILA Magazine Team... with appreciation and gratitude. 🙏🙏🙏🌹

"THIRD SECTION of JULY 15th's "ANYTHING FRIDAY" CERTIFICATES - CATEGORY: PASSAGE, only one BEST ENTRY, thank you, Leah Dancel, for your avid participation and interactions with everyone." ~Annette Nasser

"KITCHEN RULES"

Baking is the best thing for me to do when there is no net intruder at home. I have all the free time to think of being creative. Not in writing, but in other areas pertaining to the kitchen rules I devised for myself. One of which is:  "Time is precious, use it creatively."

Kitchen is the hub of my homey day to day activity. It's the only place where I spend most of my time outside the internet from preparing to cooking meals, baking and washing dishes.

My kitchen window faces the east where the morning sunrise greets me with glee. The trees are getting taller each day and I love watching the birds flitting about in branches, except this wintertime.

Sometimes, I entertain friends in this limited cubicle when they come around at random and I happened to be cooking.

Though my place is small, my friends don't mind at all. They just enjoy my warm and cozy hospitality. Most importantly, when hunger strikes..."No matter where I serve my guest it seems they like my kitchen best!"

© Leah Dancel

2 August 2022

WHERE IS AFRICA?

Lifted from ILA by permission from the Author



WHERE IS AFRICA?

Once upon a time,
When Our dark glowing colour was our pride,
When light-skinned men begged our girls to be their bride,
Not now, that the pride in our colour has faded,
Not now, that every one wants to be that overripe paw paw,
Why did we lose our pride?

Where are those days when our food used to be the best of all?
When we were blessed with natural medications,
When we remained strong as ever, our men, hardworking and tall,
When children showed respect to elders and mothers,
Why did we forget all these?

Where's our language?
Those days when an infant could speak her mother's tongue so fluently,
When one needed no interpreter,
When grandparents could communicate with grandkids perfectly
Where did we keep our mother's tongue?

Where are our beautiful attires?
The ones that mama would sew for me and Shade,
The one with colour patterns, so attractive we'd fight to get one,
Not this borrowed attires we now have in our wardrobe,
Where's our beloved Ankara?

Those days when me and Shade walked down to the river to get water,
We walked barefooted through the simple paths,
Decorated with cashew leaves that fell off their branches,
So swift was our waist and very fast were our legs too,
Coming back home after the normal jungle games with friends in the stream.
Where are those times?

The time when mama would weave my hair into two with beautiful beads,
When I would walk around with the beads making sweet sounds,
Without the attachment of another hair,  natural in its way
Not the Ghanaian styled and braids of these days.
Where are all these now?

Oh! It's civilization?
Does it say we should forget our origin?
Does it say we should throw away our mother's language and succumb to theirs?
Maybe, theirs is generally used, but, our language still remains unique,
It still remains the best of its kind.
     
Poetess: Naeemat Mahmud 
1st August 2022
Photo credit: pin interest

1 August 2022

LIFE HACK #21

Shared with permission from the Author
©️ Love, Life, and other Mysteries




LIFE HACK #21

If I have learned anything in this earthly journey..
It's not to become fixed on having a trouble free, suffering free, problem free life..
But rather to find the peace in the storms that come and learn the lessons to be found within..
This way maybe I can learn to protect my heart from disappointment that can lead to bitterness, depression and disillusionment..
For these have the power to crush our spirit, and bring our life to a standstill...🤍

Ps..not there yet..still learning..🤍

©️ Love, Life, and other Mysteries