Importance of Reading

Reading is one way of passing on wisdom to others, in this respect the author is like a teacher using words of wisdom to relay to another person but the reader must be open to the words and integrate them into their own life like any lesson in life makes one a better person.
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The Cracked Pot

the story of the ‘cracked pot’.  There was a lady who went daily to fetch some water from the stream near her house.  She carried two pots, one on each end of a pole with her each day.  One pot had a crack in it and the other one didn’t.  The one with a crack in it began to think about why was it being kept, as it did not bring back much water.  The lady turned to the pot and asked the pot to look around.  The pot looked around and saw beautiful flowers on the side of the pathway, the side it would be on.  The lady asked why question your purpose when you bring so much beauty to the world.  

 
In this story, I realized we all have a purpose in life.

Note:  This story is an oral story passed down throughout history.

Precious Friend

 

(inspiration:  a soldier carrying a skull in a misty fog)

Years after the long stretch, bloody battle
Finally having the opportunity to set foot
Upon the hallowed grounds where we
Our tormented souls had taken arms
Our country needed us to fight
We knew not who our enemy
Our country needed us to fight
Glory, honour, courage, bravery…we fought
Our neighbours, our friends, our family
To no ends…we fought on
Our country needed us…we fought
War ended…burials became common place
In the misty, damp foggy morning,
I heard the cries of many
Those who fell…gave their all
Among them, my precious friend…no
NO, I could leave her there
Torn …my precious friend deserved better
Somewhere special…a place sacred to her
Wholly holy ground…dear precious one
Away from these tormented, fighting fields
Lost souls will never recover
Innocence taken in the battle heat
Leaps towards gestures of finding closure
Sorted mistakes leaders made carry on
Truthfully, No one wins a war
Casualties, soldiers, families…all never the same
Misty fog takes ahold covering us
My precious friend and I forever

Forever amongst the poppy fields
…by Pauline Harris

The Window

Sitting here, gazing
Looking at all the streaks
Raindrops have fallen
Patterns developed
Sadness overcame me
Tears run away with my soul
Thoughts of comfort beseech me
As I realized some just told
Stories they had heard
Traditions without love
For the love was just show
Show and tell, barely caring
Saying to believe, but
What of knowing the truth
Be of service, but always respectful
Yes opinions do matter in time
Tearful goodbyes. ..true caring
Lost without a face
The reflection in the window
Is an illusion
Truth be told
Maybe the dash is all
All that life is
The only impact we make
Is during the time
In the dash
Reflected back in memories
And distant recordings
Tears and windows
Shed light on our reflection
…by Pauline Harris

The Cottage In the Village

Just over the fence
To walk through the woods
Up the giant hill
To the village for the market
Someone hollered
I, in a rush, could not
Would not turn around
The market is only open
For such a short time today
No time to waste
On my way, on my way
Dinner will be served
Much later today
Biscuits and pumpkin corn chowder
Yum, yum
Fragrant roses on the vine
Catch my nose then my eyes
Such beauty both in aroma and grace
Must move onto the market
Need some oat flour
And fresher churned butter
Milk and honey
Chirps coming from the budgies
Fluttering their wings
Whistles and howls from the guys
Getting back on track
Whispering wind is picking up
A chill buries into my bones
A teardrop from the sky
More heading down this way
Bus shelter nearby huddled me close
Resting and keeping dry
Thoughts of the day
Run through my head
Sitting down, I reflect
The joys found in moments
Just like this make life worthwhile
Grateful for these days
In so many ways
…by Pauline Harris

The Journal

Many moons ago, a little girl
Wrote of tales and secret thoughts
Then her brother discovered these inks
Telling how the government knew all
Every word she wrote
And threatening to lock her up
If she wrote more, even truths
The girl believing him, hid the journal
 
One day many years later
The journal looked up to see
There were sad eyes of a lady
Reading the pages
Finding courage to write more
Knowing the flow is stronger
And no longer confined by lies
Creating miracles instead, the lady wrote on
…by Pauline Harris

A Doll

Her father left on long trips
Not knowing when he would return
The young girl kept quiet
Stubborn and a bit insecure
She found it hard to make friends
Seeing the new doll she was playing with
The other girls said come and play
They all played together until
The young girl was called into dinner
The other girls said they would
Love to take care of the doll
As she saw her doll was sleeping
She let them play with her doll
After dinner, the young girl returned
To fetch her doll
But
No doll was there
Lost
Stolen
The young girl wept
Hurt
Beyond repair
She felt betrayed
No longer accepted
By the other girls
She found herself
Feeling unwanted, alone

Years passed
The young girl was now a woman
She grew to think of herself sadly
Until
Someone special came along
To saw so much beauty
Within her, it shown through
She was beautiful
For all to see
No longer saddened
Or in disarray
The young woman
Went to share
With others
The beauty within
Shining an amazing light
No matter the past
The light shines brightly
In beauty and splendor
…by Pauline Harris

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