Reblogged from CyKlopps, Rides Again.:

While watching the Trooping of the Colour, [yawn yawn!] The queens birthday stuff,,

I decided to do my own colour. Because I cannot find the words to finish my written

posts that are sitting in my drafts, I decided to do the Daily Post, WordPress photo challenge

this week. Just to make things a little light-hearted for a change.. Please enjoy.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/14/weekly-photo-challenge-curves/

Hope ye all enjoy this change for today only.

http://geeton1.wordpress.com/  Fighting Child Exploitation and Adults

http://cobbie69.wordpress.com/  A Written word Blog..

http://geetoni.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/now-taking-your-requests-2/

Reblogged from Bring Them Home:

• 
• 

Friday 14th June 2013

The Missing Blog.

We are Family.

This is my story of both a personal and professional journey...
In 2010 I took my first walk up the stairs at Missing People. Awaiting me was around 20 staff and volunteers who had gathered to hear me talk about the runaways project I was coordinating at the time. Lucy was in the audience; she had brought in her coffee which she was drinking from a tall blue spotty cup - a habit she maintains to this day and which always makes me smile when we go in to meetings together.

Read more… 871 more words

While researching  my last couple of posts, something ignited in my memory, and reminded me of a poem I started a short while ago. And because of a serious event that  happened to me a couple of evenings ago, and a doctor was called,  I thought I would finish it, and let all of you have a read. I know there are many people in the world that feel something of the same, and some of my followers also. But it was something that hit me stronger than any other time, so with these words I thought it was a nice time, what with the Inner Peace award I have just done. I needed some Inner Peace. All in similar mood, hope you all enjoy..Thank you very much…

What Morning?  Ga/c©

The morning arrives once again,

Like a darkness that causes me pain.

Each morning I am awake, the same thing.

I wonder what the day will bring.

The morning comes with no warning,

Surely no sleep, means there is no morning.

This morning, how can it be a new day.

In my world, I  always try to find a way.

Daily dozing, but never actually asleep,

Long days, tiring times, sinking deep.

The clock, ticking, night day, night day,

My body, says lay down and drift away.

Resting on my pillow, eyes they close.

But, no sleep, only dreams, I soon arose.

In time the body says, ‘no more, help me,’

Pain hits so hard, screaming to be free.

My morning, no such a pleasure,

Seeing sunrise, drifting dew, such treasure.

Pain killers, massage and pressure points

Only eight hours sleep will ease my joints.

Now months have passed and I collapse,

Happening like a cycle, all my energy it saps.

Try telling, and still no one listens to me,

This prisoner, all he wants is to be free.

 June 11th 2013 [Tuesday]

by COBBIES69                                                     Thanking to Wendell.

Inner Peace Award

added to Awards page 11/06/2013

http://foreverpoetic.me/

My great friend Wendell has honoured me once again by awarding this fabulous award to me. I have been a friend and brother to him now for a fair time now, and visiting and reading is daily verse has always been a high light of my day. Whether one is low or high his words are very addictive, and the work they do for you is like magic.  If you are down they lift you up, and if you are up they will lift you higher. He has a site full of words for every occasion.

Just when my Inner Peace is wavering this has certainly lifted me, and am thinking again how life is not so bad, is it really.

I cannot find any 

So this is a good thing.

My nominations for this awards are as below. I have no idea as to whether any already has it or not so please just acknowledge with a thank you.

http://colonialist.wordpress.com/
http://lornasvoice.com/
http://soundslikewish.wordpress.com/
http://sandraconner.wordpress.com/

 http://believeanyway.wordpress.com/

 http://firstandfabulous.wordpress.com/

 http://letscutthecrap.wordpress.com/     

 http://steverebus.com/

 http://inspirationimport.wordpress.com/  

 http://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/

  http://dribblingpensioner.wordpress.com/

 http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/

 http://retiredruth.wordpress.com/

)))))))))))))))))))0000(((((((((((((((((((

THIS POST IS NOT DIRECTED AT ANYONE OR ANYTHING DIRECTLY, IT IS PURELY MY SADNESS AND EXPERIENCES OF ONE’s LIFE  JOURNEY. SORRY IF IT OFFENDS ANYONE.   ANY RESEMBLANCES ARE NOT INTENTIONAL.

In these sad days, with all the trouble within our world, why is it we still find it in ourselves to hurt each other. Especially the ones we love. I could make this into a  post that should be on my sister blog BTH  [Bring Them Home], but will not do so. I have titled this Behind the Net Curtains, because what do we really know about people. Let us take for example, the average couple, everyone sees them as made for each other, the perfect couple. What they, in public, talk about and the picture that they portray.  Many relationships are not what they seem, I have first hand experience of this. There are many shop windows, but not everything on show is genuine. A loving vision made for each other couple.. But are they really?

‘TRUE LOVE DOESN’T HAVE A HAPPY ENDING’ ♥♥♥♥

‘BECAUSE TRUE LOVE NEVER ENDS’  ♥♥♥♥

One of the most common (and most frustrating) relationship dynamics that we hear about is couples who feel emotionally wounded by each other on a regular basis. They both love each other, and want to stay together, yet they keep hurting each other through verbal abuse, physical rejection, taking each other for granted, betraying emotional trust, or bringing up the most vulnerable topics from their partner’s past. This is a such a common phenomenon that it became the focus of the famous 1944 song by Allan Roberts and Doris Fisher, “You Always Hurt the One You Love”, with a bizarre last line:

So many meaningless words, spoken with an empty heart. But are they, or are they just misguided or misunderstood. Lacking of experience,  can be said, which might be true, but to love someone is not lack of experience. You love, I love, we love, so my question would be, ‘Why do people who love each other, for what ever reason, always leave their love at the station. Passing up chances that they so wish, or say they do. Like an ending to a sad film, one departs into the far-reaching shadows of the sunset, leaving the other watching, while in tears, and pleading.

Why do we do this? We hurt the one we love for several reasons

We lack the knowledge and skills of how to communicate our feelings constructively

This is what does and has happened mostly, a new way of  communicating that, one, is forever ever learning, and forever telling each other so, but when the push comes to the shove, neither actually believe it. Problem is because neither know how to handle or understand. And long distance the seeing of ones eyes, or the not seeing becomes  a big problem, should not but does.

I am one that has never been comfortable expressing my emotions, and have now taken a big dislike to this word, emotions, and it has proved to me of late, why I had always kept my tears to myself, in the privacy of my own being. I kept everything with in, and so many people over the years have told me this is harmful and should let it out, talk about it, share it. But to be honest, I would rather put up with the hurt this causes, rather than the hurt that sharing causes.  It can almost feel like being mentally abused,  psychologically raped.

So basically what I am saying, there is so much more behind those net curtains. One might be able to see, but it is never as clear-cut as first thought. Judging one should not be, just accept what is said, and if you do really love some one, believe in some one,  the strength from this should be enough. All else, like trust and hurdles will be overcome. Relationships can be and are mostly fragile, hanging on a thin gossamer line. I personally had hurdles and was slowly but surely moving these out of the way.

It is hard to pretend, Genuine is Constant.©

Time has Passed..

Oh well clock, oh clock why do you tick tock.

My life is slowly being sapped,

My memories being tapped.

My emotions always trapped.

Oh clock why tick tock.  

My lady tick tock, said the clock at the top of the hour,,

Our time becomes dour,,

It is time to call time.

The concluding, final hour.       Ga/c 2013©                                                                                                                                             

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/10/daily-prompt-headline/

Reblogged from CyKlopps, Rides Again.:

Here is perfect proof of witches existence in the New Forest..So the next

time you are visiting, keep an eye open..

http://geetoni.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/now-taking-your-requests-2/

The best for music and request pop over and leave a request…

http://geeton1.wordpress.com/  Fighting Child Exploitation and Adults

http://cobbie69.wordpress.com/  A Written word Blog..

http://sandraconner.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/june-writing-challenge-more-graphic-art-from-terry/

 “Please, please help me, I cannot find the daylight” he pleaded. On his knees, head bowed and tears flowing. His mind was everywhere. The tall winged creature, standing boldly, trying to close the gate.

“How do you wish me to help?”

“I must find my way, I cannot see the exit, I have tried many paths and I keep returning here. And you are always there stopping me from entering. What must I do?”

“You must first ask yourself, what is it you are seeking, and if you find it what then?” the winged creature’s voice boomed across the open space. so loud, the young man trembled with fear. He could now feel the fire, burning in his chest, and the darkness getting blacker and thicker and closing in around him.

“ I seek freedom, I seek the light, I seek the life that will let me love again. Once found, I will be able to remove this cloud, these chains that hold me, and keeping me from what I am entitled.” the man pleading again, still on his knees and now looking the winged creature in the eyes.

“I am your mind, your aura, your intellect, you power, your imagination, it is not me that is stopping you from entering. It is you, you have to decide, you have to make it clear to yourself. You have to look into yourself, your beliefs and then ask yourself what is it you truly want. Once you have these answers, then the gate will open and you will find all that you seek.” the winged creature was now shimmering in the air. Becoming translucent, disappearing slowly. Then as quick as flash he was back in full view. “Your Faith is waning.”

Still on his knees the young man fell forward onto his elbows, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Into the depths of his heart he went, and his thoughts and dreams surged at him like a river torrent. So fast, he could not control or see any of them. Deeper he went, the darkness drawing him in, still finding no way out. His emotions hitting him every which way, his thoughts and dreams, feelings and beliefs raging past, he had no control, he could not see or separate.

“You Faith is Waning.” he could hear the words again. The winged creature, warning him again. But this time it was his voice that were saying the words.

“My faith is strong, always has been,” he lifted his head and shouted.

“Your faith is waning…” over and over he could heard the words. 

“Never! never, my faith is strong, my guidance is pure” he stood and as he shouted.

Then one of his desires came to him, spoke to him, “Love is waiting” and then gone.

“Daylight awaits” he heard as he looked up,, all his emotions, all his dreams, slowly passing his minds window.  He could see the light, distantly faint, but clearing and getting closer..

The winged creature shimmering more and more until it eventually vanished completely and the young man was now standing at the open gate, sunshine warmth upon his face.

“My faith is strong.”

http://geetoni.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/now-taking-your-requests-2/

The music request site ever..

http://cobbie69.wordpress.com/

Writing projects.

http://geeton1.wordpress.com/

Fighting for children.

The Ghost Party…

This story has many variations from many countries. the basics remaining the same. My story although it was attached to the Isle of Wight, I could easily have adapted it to a place in my old home village of Brockenhurst. There is at least two places I can think of.

Way back in 1821, George Maurice Bisset, the owner of the most grandest mansions to be seen, in a fit of temper he set fire to it and burnt it to the ground. This was because he did not want his daughter to inherit. This was because she had the temerity to marry a clergyman without her fathers consent. All that was left of the mansion now are two gateposts standing at the end of the long drive.

A hundred years later in the 1920s me as a young man was walking the road enjoying the scene, and making notes for my blogging stories. It was very cold night, and it was getting late. and I thought it time to try and find a room for the night.  As I went I came upon two gateposts with heraldic beasts on top of them. I was so impressed, and, given it being New Years Eve, I wondered if I could a nights shelter here.

          I walked down the drive, and saw that there were lights ablaze in every window of the mansion, and sounds of gaiety and laughter: there was a great party going on. It was obviously a  fancy dress, because of the men wore powdered wigs and women were resplendent in their Georgian dresses.

I banged on the front door and on the windows, but could not get any attention. After a period I gave up: but I was half way up the drive when I thought I would go back and try again. As I turned, a black carriage pulled by four black horses came thundering down the drive from the house towards me: I flung myself into a ditch to avoid being trampled beneath the hooves. I was so shaken, bruised and very angry, that I decided not to return.

          I later found a room in the village in a small, quaint lodging house. When I was talking to the landlady about my experience, she told me that the house was long gone: it had been knocked down in her great – grannies time.

The next day I decided to go back, and found nothing but an overgrown drive with two old gateposts at the entrance. There were no heraldic beasts on the gateposts, no house. All he could see was a field, a tumbledown barn an old orchard, and a tangle of weeds. If you have nothing better to do on a New Years eve, then pop along to this party.

Courtesy of Folk Tales by Michael O’leary

Look out for my forth coming post ‘Apple Tree #2′……….