We’ll Go No More A-Roving by Lord Byron

So, we’ll go no more a-roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we’ll go no more a-roving

By the light of the moon.

“Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.  Continue reading “Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou

A Letter to Me. A Letter to You.

I see myself I forgive myself.

I see now the flaws that live in myself that stain the vision I knew to be me.

I see now the mantlepiece I put myself on, the burden that strapped me to that shelf.

I see now the part of me I ignored that part that was pushed down because it was flawed, it did not belong.

I see now the choices I had made unconsciously to be what I had been reared to be.

I see now that I was never complete, not because of goals unattained or plans yet to be accomplish but because of the focus on becoming someone that was not me, of fitting into an ideal that was predetermined for me and being blinded by that picture I did not know was not true.

I see now that I was incomplete because I had not accepted all that I am.

I see now that I was incomplete because I had not loved all that I am.

I see now that I am my flaws, I am my good, I am my bad. I do not have to choose within myself, I do not have to choose which part to suppress. I am beautiful because I am flawed. I am light, I am dark. I am strong, I am weak. I am not perfect and because of that I am.

I have lost that veil of innocence emeded deep in me, that scence of unattainable ideal I had always strived to achieve because it was always so. I have lost a part of me, crumbled with the mantlepiece I had put up. The rose coloured glasses are left shattered in the debris.

I see you now, in the mirror, maybe for the first time, but I see you and you are not who I thought you were when I looked at you a week ago. You stared back at me but I looked away. I see you, I accept you, I will love all of you, but as a start, I love most of you.

—Sandra Francesca.

 

Happy Reading

Note: This was written by me, as part of a free writing exercise challenge set by The Daily Post. It is a series themed on loss, and is part One of the Loss series. I hope you stay tuned for more. Thank you.

“The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more.” Continue reading “The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe

“Show me a family of readers, and I will show you the people who move the world.” ―Napoleon

The imagination is the greatest gift we have, I believe. I love books, I love films. I spend my best time in my head dreaming up stories, people, lives. When I read a good book I am in transported to a different world, conjured by my capability for wonderment. I’m living another life, seeing different colors and feeling a multitude of emotions and sometimes not feeling at all.

I get crazy in a bookstore, my heart beats faster my mind almost unable to contemplate the possibility of falling into another world, of having that exhilarating feeling you can only get when you discover that the book your immersed in is REALLY good. Your mind half convinces you that you could never find a story like the last mind-blowing one, yet the conviction at which you search story after story says otherwise, perhaps. I do love books. And films.
Films are books come alive. The interpretation of a story in someone’s mind, which tells of the interpreters mind, yes, but it also tells a story. A good film also transports you to another world, its leaves your reeling form the lives being played out in front of you. And at a good juncture you no longer exist, as in books, you forget your world, your problems, your life, you become one with the story being played out, you feel what they feel, you taste what they taste. I love films too.

Click the Menu bar above to read Reviews on books and films, and the Poet’s Corner for a collection of words that matter, in my opinion.

Happy Reading!

“Books are the most quietest and the most constant of friends, they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors and the most patient of teachers.”  ….Charles W. Eliot.