GOLDEN DAFFODILS

Posted at PSCS

1 November 2023

I saw the clouds

I saw the hosts

Of golden daffodils 

Flow'ring beside 

A man-made lake 

And across the pond

O'er the mountain 

Where a lonely man dwells.

©️ Leah C Dancel 

1 November 2023

THE YOU I SEE

By Lucky Stephen Onyah

27 October 2023

Photo taken by Girlie Abbu 

Guylian Cafe

Circular Quay 

27 October 2023

The You I See

Sweet chocolate blend

Of light and dark browns

In a cool Purple Heart

Of a unique work of art

A radiant eyes and smile 

Defines Leah Dancel

TOO FAST

By Melany AmMabao Maguindanao

Too Fast

By Melany Amante Mabao Maguindanao 

How did I get here so fast?

I thought my younger days would last.

The shadows on the wall I cast,

Chipped away, down the floor like dust.

The hands of time

is ticking away... 

I'm losing valuable time everyday.

The dreams that's blown by the wind's cold blast,

Now, remnants of the good old past.

These days of my life are numbered.

When gone, how will I be remembered?

I, and my restless agitation?

Me in the chaos of confusion.

For a moment, I was confident.

For just a time, my life was a rhyme.

But the most of it, I stumbled.

For the most of it, I struggled.

As this journey draws to an end,

Wisdom from madness, I rend.

The lessons that count the most,

Greatness comes at patience' cost.

Though, a long way has been travelled...

But there's still a long way to lead.

There is still some value to squeeze out

In the remaining journey ahead.

Soon, I'll be waving from the back of the train...

Then I'll be leaving all the pain.

My conquests in this world,

I can't bring them to my tomb.

For now, I am happy here.

To challenges, I did not surrender.

I have my friends here, It's the most I would like to remember.

Soon, I'll settle for peace.

In time, I'll leave with ease.

Photo: ctto

S* W* A* N

By Lily Dancel 

Quote:

“Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.” ~Anon 

S * W * A * N

A graceful lady in a silken white gown,

gliding along the liquid river of glass.

She elegantly lifts her head

to reveal a shimmering satin scarf

gracefully twirled about

her long beautiful neck.

Many stand gazing on her beauty

as she graces the molten mirror

beneath her feet with a sliding,

graceful dance.

She finishes her performance

with a gentle wave from her white long gloves

and as the many onlookers wave cheer,

She raises her long white arms

and skims her black leather shoes along

until taking off and flies into the sunset.

~Lily Dancel

Year 10 English School Work

Riverstone High School 

2004

Photo by Google

THE CLOCK OF DESTINY

By Leah C Dancel

"It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power."

~Acts 1:7
 

THE CLOCK OF DESTINY 

"I step one foot forward, 

An inch t'wards my destiny."

Life is redeemed by time 

But time cannot be redeemed

by life - once it's gone.

By then, it belongs to a memory. 

The clock keeps ticking  

Each hand keeps moving:

By the second, every minute;

By the hour - twenty four hours a day. 

Unlike the Grandfather's Clock 

That stopped when he turned ninety.

Destiny is unpredictable,

Unknown to the conscious mind. 

Life is as  fleeting as time

In an earthly sense ...

But time as we know 

Is owned by the hands that created it.

When it comes, the clock stops 

at the gate as you enter 

the final moment...

of the breaking point;

Marking the end 

Of a long journey 

HOME ...

©️Leah C Dancel 

Copyright©️13 October 2023

All rights reserved 

SH-AUSTRALIA

STAMPS: THE WORLD IN YOUR HANDS

By Leah C Dancel 

Thank you PCHN through the encouragement of the Publisher/Editor Evelyn Zaragoza. 

Philippine Community Herald Newspaper. Sent by the Publisher/Editor Evelyn Zaragoza. 

October 2023 issue.

STAMPS: THE WORLD IN YOUR HANDS 

(Dedicated to PhilippineStamps Collectors' Society)

My favourite thing to collect and keep 

Small and large - in different sizes, 

 colours and shapes.

They walk on snail pace or fly like Pigeons.

The agents of Mercury, the winged Messenger, of known ancient times.

Stamps sharpen my knowledge

In geography, science and history.

They cover all nature that team with life 

And consolidate them all in Philately. 

They broaden my perspective 

And expands my view of the horizon.

They open my eyes to see the world

In essence of leisure and pleasure.

They come on every issue of First Day Covers, minisheets, souvenir sheets and stamp packs; booklets and maxicards -

You can name them all.

The most definitive stamps are your unwavering passion; unprinted, but postmarked by friendship and fellowship;

Through meeting of minds in candid spirit of same pursuit for a worthwhile cause:

Linking and connecting the trail of dots 

Along perforated lines in STAMP COLLECTING. 

©️ Leah C Dancel

Copyright ©️ 11 October 2023

All rights reserved 

SH-AUSTRALIA
 

Comments 

Wow 😲 That's new version of Awesome presentation: Poetry, Stamps, Postcards and the Author. All in one and hopefully soon it could be a one piece Postcard coming up‼️

MY THANKSGIVING PRAYER

By Lenore Caytiles

My Thanksgiving Prayer

Thank you, Lord -

For the gift of life, for the 81 years of blessing me with all Your kindness, for guiding me on my way, for lifting me when the way is rough, for pushing me when i almost give me;

For giving me my family and for keeping us closely knit by your love. May that spirit of love grow stronger each day and live on forever;

For my friends and relatives, for filling up all the gaps, for their love, support and concern, and for all people, too. Lord, 

I pray that you continue to embrace us tightly and may the power of love and understanding continously flow from our hearts and peace and harmony reign in our midst. 

Lord, I pray that you continue to bless all of us with good health, and long and happy life. 

I beg, Lord that You hear my prayers. 

Amen.

FORGET-ME-NOT

Lifted from Tearoom Diaries

When to the flowers so beautiful,

The Father gave a name,

Back came a little blue-eyed one,

All timidly it came.

And standing at it’s Father’s feet,

And gazing into his face,

It said in low and trembling tones,

And with a modest grace,

“Dear God, the name thou gavest me,

Alas, I have forgot.”

The Father kindly looked him down,

And said, “Forget-me-not.”

~Anon 🦋

https://www.thetearoomdiaries.com.au/

BIRTHDAY, A TIME FOR REJOICING

By Leah C Dancel

BIRTHDAY,  A TIME FOR REJOICING 

(In dedication to Elena Zaragoza Escubio)

It's still dawntime of your birthday 

And the celebration has begun 

One by one,  all well-wishers come 

To bring you gifts and joyful greetings. 

As you mark this day with gratitude 

In thanking God for all He blessed:

Good health, long life and dreams fulfilled

There's nothing left, but room for more.

Hold your peace, enjoy the feast

With loved ones gathering by your side

Love, honour and respect, they bestow 

To you, their loving mother, whom they adore.

A rejoicing with candles blow 

A blast of icing on the snow 

A trimming of flower bells 

Atop on round circle, so sweet a treat.

May this day of your jubilation 

Adds a new page to a memory 

A very special moment grand 

Be yours to keep as years go by. 

Leah C Dancel 

Copyright ©️ 8 October 2023

All rights reserved

THE FOREST

Shared from Video Poet by express permission

It is said, that Albert Einstein once stated: 

If you want your children to be intelligent, 

read them fairytales. 

If you want them to be more intelligent, 

read them more fairytales.’

Well here is a fairytale for our times...

The Forest 

Once upon a time,

There was a beautiful forest.

It grew, high up in the mountains,

And lived by the old ways.

The trees in this forest 

Drank clear mountain water -

Fresh and crisp,

Grew deep, strong roots

Into mineral-rich soil

And allowed their young seedlings space 

To spread out their evergreen branches

And lift their leaves to the light...

It was even said,

That some retained their youthful, tender leaves for centuries,

Such joy was there

In the act of mere being.

All was just as the God of the Trees 

Had imagined and made it for them.

Now, it was not perfect in the hillside forest,

For all trees must fall...

Sometimes a storm tore down a tender sapling,

Or lightning struck a proud pine.

Sometimes, fires wiped out multitudes of firs -

Sickness was not unknown 

And every year beloved trees were lost...

But somehow, the hilltop forest carried on,

Regrowing and multiplying in joy,

For it knew its purpose was to love and tend the garden,

Not control it.

Within sight of this hillside forest,

Further down, in the green, rain-washed valley,

Where once there had been much naturally rich soil,

Stood another forest.

It stood within a park 

Behind a great wall,

And had grown up beside a beautiful, life-giving stream.

Now, the park was owned by a giant,

Who, it was said, 

Owned land for as far as the tallest tree could see.

For many years, this forest had thrived -

Tree surgeons tended the branches of the sick,

Spilling chemicals on the earth

To kill weeds that would suck out minerals,

Meant only for the trees themselves.

Park rangers burnt the old leaves 

Lest the people who visited the park slip on them

And usurers erected greenhouses,

In which saplings could grow

Shielded from the wild winds of winter

And the harsh summer sun.

For many years, 

Life was safe and sweet for the trees in the park

And they loved their existence behind the wall.

Decades passed...

And the giant became bored -

He had too much of everything.

And anything,

Of which we have too much,

Becomes a poison to the soul.

He began building great factories in the park,

Factories that were said to produce minerals for the many trees...

But after a few years

The stream,

Which had so selflessly watered the great oaks and chestnuts

Became sad and polluted with the overspill from the factories.

She spread her sorrow to the trees.

The prophesied nutrients were limited

As it was rumoured the giant

Had many such walled parks

And was now more concerned with the factories in them,

Than the trees they were meant to help grow.

The forest began to decline.

Still, there were trees in the middle of the great wood,

(Who had never seen the stream themselves

And knew only of its gift of water as legend)

That continued to love life behind the wall.

As yet, the pollution had not reached their roots

And they reminded those who grew beside the stream and saw her pain,

Of the safety of greenhouses, 

The chemical liquids that rid the forest of hungry weeds,

The park rangers, who removed dead leaves,

The factories that would make more nutrients for them...

And those who grew near the stream began to believe...

Not their own eyes

But the words of those blind to reality.

More years passed

And more trees grew sick.

The giant made ointments and balms 

To ease the trees’ pains

But so great was the malaise

That only some were deemed worthy of the scarce treatment.

Saplings became sick,

Old trees forgot their purpose,

The seeds from the untamed hillside 

Could not be controlled

And were feared for their spirit of growth. 

The walled forest grew dark.

Even the fellow pines and firs in the park 

Would not recognise themselves in their brothers and sisters outside.

Fear closed their eyes

So none looked beyond the wall to the hillside 

Where still grew the untouched, wild forest.

It made no matter,

For, as the stream from which the gift of water flowed

And the air from which the great lungs of the forest pulled its life

Was thick with pollutants,

The park-forest’s death was assured.

What it did not know,

Was that the giant really did not care for the trees.

Of course, he liked to look at them

And he liked the adulation of the people who came to walk amongst them

And attributed the beauty of the woods to him.

He even wanted the forest to remain beautiful

So he could rest in her shade 

And bask in her exquisite splendour...

But greed is a terrible thing and pride is worse!

They ate up the giant’s soul.

He began to tell the visitors that the trees themselves were to blame

For the forest’s demise.

He started rumours 

That only he could halt the death of the sycamores,

The elms, the great oaks...

He started groups and paid politicians to speak his words,

To promote his factories,

And praise his policies...

And all the time,

The forest, thinking itself safe behind the wall,

Died slowly,

Painfully unaware of this great crime.

Meanwhile, on the hillside, above the park,

The wild forest watched and wept.

It wept great tears of sorrow

For her fellow trees 

Slain by others’ greed and their own blindness,

Trapped by the need for the safety of the wall.

Now, legend has it 

That the tears of those wild firs and pines 

Grew.

They grew and swelled into rapid rivulets.

And those rivulets merged,

Surging and growing to be raging rivers,

Tumbling down the hillside

Until they reached the park,

Washing away the wall surrounding the captive forest.

The stream,

Once so polluted 

Flowed clean and clear with the tears of the wild trees

And the forests were free...

Once more.

Of course, this is just a fairytale... 

but we are all seeds growing somewhere. 

Plant wisely, 

Watch out for giants 

And tell your children fairytales, for as Einstein once said...

By Carolyn McCartney

Feel free to share!

THE MOONLIGHT IN MY TWILIGHT

By Jeffrey Cejero 

The Moonlight in my Twilight

When I was a kid

Twilight was goosebumps

Shadows seemed to eat me

The swaying of branches gave me fears

And the flowery smell of the night was like brought my ghosts

The howling of dogs seemed death was just around

And the hooting of owls was considered a bad luck

When I was not too young nor too old

Twilight was like a cold rain

I remember my unuttered goodbye to my father

Before he turned to stardust

The sacrifices of my grandmother who never

Tasted the luxury of life

I guess these are my greatest pains and regrets

I also remember those "friends" who wanted me

To dance and sing for their amusement

And I turned them down

For I was not a dancer nor a singer

And they started to burn bridges for my refusal.

And I had tbese unreachable stars

And brokenhearts

Life seemed to be unfair

And now, I'm already old enough

Whose heart, body and soul

Are alrealy tampered by fears, pains and regrets

No more twilight that could shake me

The howling of dogs brings me mysteries

The hooting of owls gives me music

I also enjoyed the flowery smell of the night

At this age, twilight is amazingly beautiful and peaceful

Especially when I'm showered by moonlight

SUNSET

By Paulo Coelho 

Picture taken from the vantage of 

Discovery Holiday Park 

Eden NSW 

1 October 2023

For every sunset, there is a sunrise;

for every dream that ends, one is born;

for every door that closes, another one opens;

for every love that ends, another begins;

for every end there is a new beginning;

for each departure there is an arrival;

for every defeat there is a victory.

Nothing is ever finished, as long as there is life

FLITTING MOMENTS

By Leah C Dancel 

Even birds have flitting moments too! As time is fleeting, so is life...

A bird tweets 

Welcome OCTOBER!

Embrace the day 

with a spirit of adventure 

The outback is waiting 

Go, feel free exploring 

Its serene vicinity 

Now and then Interfered 

By clucking hens inside the fence.  

Joey's mother, the Kangaroo 

And her company, do come and go.

While the bees are buzzing around the flowers 

Hopping from flower to flower 

To harvest some nectars 

So they can pollinate

And give nature its best. 

Leah C Dancel 

Copyright ©️ 1 October 2023

All rights reserved 

Wonboyn NSW 

AUSTRALIA 

ABLAZE of GOLDEN HUES

ABLAZE of GOLDEN HUES 

In the realm where nature dwells,

A tapestry of wonders tells,

Of skies ablaze with golden hues,

And rivers kissed by morning dews.

Through meadows green, the flowers dance,

In vibrant colors, they enhance,

Each petal's grace, a work of art,

Nature's beauty, a priceless part.

The mighty trees, they proudly stand,

Their branches reaching, hand in hand,

Whispering secrets to the breeze,

As leaves sway gently, with such ease.

The mountains rise, majestic, grand,

Their peaks adorned with snowy strands,

A testament to Earth's embrace,

A sight that fills the heart with grace.

The ocean, vast, its depths unknown,

A symphony of life is sown,

With waves that crash upon the shore,

An eternal dance forevermore.

In every corner, nature thrives,

A harmony of countless lives,

A gentle reminder, clear and true,

Of the wonders that surround me and you.

By Rich Barbee