Category: poems

International Women’s Day

Are we Idealists or realists? We are women, we are fighters and survivors. If we have support each other and stand together, we can achieve anything!

Photo – authors own – A house of women…. Supporting & advocating for one another……

How do we empower. How do we motivate. How do we succeed in being equal?

We first of all must observe. Then we must teach, then we must learn. Women can learn from other women not just from the inequality from men.

The teaching, observing and learning must start in the home. If we have great mentors, advocates, ambassadors within the home, to build us up, make us strong, motivate us, be a role model for us, then we are off to a good start.

Even if, in the home, we see something we do not like, do not agree with, think is not right, we must learn from it,challenge it and take that ‘education’ of it outside of the home.

Take our knowledge, our beliefs our motivations, our voice and strength with us, into the world, and use it as our toolkit. We can keep adding to the toolkit, each time we feel inequality and injustice, is staring us in the face. We must reach into our bag of tools, stare right back at inequality and challenge it.

Seek out like minded people. Seek out your tribe. Help each other out. Build each other up and most of all, be there in the wings, having each others back whenever we get knocked down. Then get up again, build again, stand firm again.

The only way to succeed at anything, is to keep on trying.

From the oldest to the youngest and the youngest to the oldest a flow of ideas, ideals, experiences  and perspectives will surface. From female to female, female to male and male to female, there will of course be differences of opinion, power struggles, ideas and idealism. However, the key to be heard, is not power, but persuasion, respect, open mindedness and fairness. It is only then, that we strive for parity.

Happy International women’s day…keep on going… 

FATHER CHRISTMAS

No, not ready,  not this Christmas  day, give me a place to hide away.  Christmas,  its roots carved out of religion, with family at the heart  and etched in tradition

From childhood memories of excitement and wonder, tipping downstairs, skipping steps with my brothers..

‘He’s been, he’s been’, we’d exclaim with such joy, unwrapping and passing the games and new toys.

And mum would be there, a smile on her face, excited for us as we danced and embraced, eachother, our gifts,  scalextrix and dolls and dad would come in and join in the fun 

The house, it was happy on each Christmas  morn,  and father Christmas so brilliant for bringing such fun.

And mum would be busy preparing our feast, the kitchen awash with all sorts of treats…. the turkey the stuffing, she’d make it from scratch, the tastes and the flavours could never be matched.

We’d sit round the table, a family of 5…grateful and thankful what the lord had provided.  

The choir hymns  still ringing from the midnight  mass, and i’d sit in pure wonder at all that we had

For santa, he was, the father of christmas for sure, bringing peace and good will to our family’s door.

Back then we were ignorant to the true full facts, that Christmas wouldnt happen without mum and dad.

What happiness they brought with sacrifices made and now how I’ll miss  them on this Christmas day

So no, not now, not ready just yet, I’ll leave santa to the chrildren, so they wont forget, the joy and the treasure and the gift of it all the christmas, the magic, so they can recall

How special and awesome their own mothers are, allowing father christmas to capture their their sweet precious hearts.

For the mothers and fathers gone home to the lord, we’ll love you and miss you on this christmas morn…..

Don’t tell me…

Don’t tell me how to feel, when I have no idea what I am feeling

Don’t try to unravel me when I am coiled up in knots but manage to bob along

Don’t tell me I should get up when all I want to do is sleep

Don’t tell me to rest when I can’t sit still

Don’t tell me

Don’t tell me

Don’t tell me

And I won’t tell you that you have no idea…..

Let me sit in my silence

Let me lounge in my pretence

Let me walk with my shadow

Let me be, in this moment, all that I am….

Let me tell you, to not tell me…..

Nerves of Steel

How many things can a woman be? How many things can a woman endure?
how many things can a woman do?
A woman is not a thing, she is mighty…..

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What is a woman, what are her needs

Certainly not scrubbing down on her knees

She is flesh and bone, body and soul

A mind full of ideas, working on  goals

She flicks with her hips

And stretches her view

Sees what’s inside and outside of you

She arches her back, and senses her breasts

Are taking your focus and all the rest

She’s courage and wisdom rolled into one

She’ll keep on surviving, long after you’ve gone

She’s gentle and kind, but her will is so strong

Do not be fooled, don’t get it wrong

She is not so weak as a delicate flower

Her scent is like nectar you want to devour

She gives what she can, again and again

Endurance, resistance to insatiable pain

Up she will rise with her nerves of steel

You can’t take away what you think she should feel

She’s sexy, she’s confident, she’s a sexual being

Make sure you are ready, if not, get fleeing

She’ll look for a man that can handle her will

Tell me now sir, do you fit the bill?

Wisdom…..

What do you think gets better with age?

Some are born with more than others, but I feel, as we age we grow more wise.

A poem I wrote a while back for young girls/women is, I think, an example of wisdom.

This Body…

Don’t be fooled by this body
so slim and so lean
Caressing the contours
Having boys wet dreams
These arms are so strong
Though feeble they look
And the breasts are more
Worthy, than for you just to suck
These legs are so shapely, smooth and long
But will only be open for who I say, belong

Do not assume that it’s yours for the taking
This body of mine, took years in the making
It stretched and it grew, filled out and amazed
the strength that it carried in the blood and the veins
This body of mine one day will grow old
The breasts you desire will sag I am told
The legs long and shapely, may fill more with fat
I cannot be fairer or clearer than that

So do not be fooled by this body of mine
Instead you must love what is there in my mind
For there you will find the truth, I confess
The sexy, the funny, the intelligent prowess
My mind is the thing you must first desire
For my body will only, set yours on fire
And too, one day yours will fail to perform
So for me I make sure, it is you I adore
The body is nothing but bones and mere flesh
But the mind you see is where we become enmeshed
A wondrous source of beauty and wit
It’s here where the fire of desire should be lit
For it will grow sharper and lead us the way
To a future together in all that we say
The body of course, will bring pleasure and joy
But do not be fooled or distracted, dear boy
If you’re up for the challenge, then of course let’s begin
Soon we will know which one shall win
The pressure is on, you must decide
But do not no fear, there is no place to hide

©️ Caroline S. T

Tell me…

Tell me your secrets

Deep burried lies

hidden and wrapped

inside your disguise

Tell me your heartaches

The fractured and broken

That keep you tight-lipped

of hurt unspoken

Tell me your sorrows lost in your grief,

swirling and whirling,

time robbed like a thief

Tell me your wishes,

your hopes, your desires

Ambitions to be realised,

goals to aspire

Now tell me your worth, your value, esteem

Spill out your guts, its time to come clean……

All Hallows Eve

All Hallows Eve

And as the clocks go back

The darkness descends

Prepare for long nights and shorter days

Samhain, Samhain, when the veil is thin

And the ghosts of the dead attempt to seep in

And try to spy to perhaps say hi 

Don’t be afraid of the ghosts we laid

In the deep dark earth, biding time to portray

reveal and expose, what we already know

love is the key and will unlock for sure

And the sinners and saints, may bang on your door

on All Hallows Eve they’ll be witches and ghouls 

But don’t be a fool to fall for the trick, for the treat

Is much sweeter so welcome them in

the ones with lost souls are not always so grim

we reap what we sow, tread lightly there now

look out, look within, pray, listen and bow

Lost and found

Lost and found

And there he was, frozen, still, eyes wide, teeth shining, tail erect, holding my gaze, waiting, both of us, for the other to make a move.

Not what I expected to see at the bottom of the garden, my sanctuary, sweet smell of honeysuckle, boxed in with the structured walled hedge.  My get away from the noise of the house, the chaos, and now, each of us startled, lost in our thoughts and fears. The wolf cub and me, wondering what next? Is each of us friend or foe?

My gaze softened, I smiled and slowly held out my hand as I bent down, to beckon him and to my surprise, he yielded and together we sat, quiet amongst the honeysuckle, knowing we’d been found.

For national poetry day across the pond in the UK…..