Love came to me today

 

Love came to me today, dressed up in countless different ways, as if she was a child with an enormous dressing-up box.

She came to me first as a cup of coffee - made for me without my needing to ask - and, as I left the house, she was dressed as a coat that someone draped around my shoulders to keep me warm against the cold.

She disguised herself later as an arm around my shoulders whilst I cried, and as a message that said "I'm thinking of you"; as shared laughter when I met with a friend, and as a smile from a stranger.

She wasn't always easy to spot, and her disguises were not always pretty. Sometimes she was dressed as the ache of missing someone or the pain of faded dreams; and sometimes she wore the face of hard truths and difficult decisions. Most of the time she did not show up dressed like fanfare or fireworks, but like that little light we leave on at night: a lingering glow whispering, "I'm here."

Yes, Love came to me today; in so many disguises that it would have been easy to miss her.

But I didn't miss her, because I felt her there.

And tomorrow, I think I'll dress up my love in the shape of a hug; in the form of a warm smile and a morning cup of coffee...

And I'll make sure that other people feel love too.

*****

Becky Hemsley 2025

Gorgeous artwork by Lisa Aisato

This poem is from If The Stars Could Speak

Source: Becky Hemsley Poetry on Facebook

You

 

You are allowed to outgrow,

The younger versions of yourself,

Over time we evolve and change,

Our transformation is our wealth.

We can no longer think the same way,

As we did when we were twenty,

Time has taught us lessons,

And we've gained experience aplenty.

Our path is a journey of learning curves,

Each season brings a different stage,

We are narrating our own life story,

From birth to youth to old age.

We can never travel backwards,

We are bound to shed old skin,

And move on through the years ahead,

To appease the soul within ..

C.E. Coombes.

Art via Pinterest

Seredipity Corner on Facebook

I had a dream

 

I had a dream 

Built up inside

That the grass was greener

On the other side

So, I packed my things

And booked a flight

To a nicer place

And a quieter life

But what I found

Once I was there

I felt the same

No matter where

The place had changed

But my state of mind

Was the one to blame

The entire time

Jimmy Osborne

Source: Poetry for the Soul on Facebook

Slow Down

 

Slow down, stop rushing through your days,

There's so much passing you by,

You fail to notice the beautiful detail,

of all that's right here, before your eyes.

When did you last find the time,

Just to sit and appreciate,

The painted wings of a passing butterfly,

on the flowers, just outside your gate?

Or the way birds hop from branch to branch,

When they're singing in the trees,

Or the rich red hue on a foxes coat,

The lulling sound of a Summer breeze?

The way the green trees glisten

When the sun streams through their leaves,

The faith within a person's eyes,

When they truly do believe?

Do you ever stop to notice anything

That's outside your daily routine?

Maybe you have become blinkered

There's so much you have not seen.

So just slow down and ponder,

the quiet wonders that each day brings,

And start to open up your eyes

to all these beautiful, natural things ..

Serendipity Corner

C.E. Coombes for Serendipity Corner

Art: Asia Spettel

BIRD WATCHING

 

BIRD WATCHING

At some point, throughout it all,

you will begin to watch the birds.

Your blindness to their splendour,

will seem suddenly absurd,

as though age is the key,

which unlocks their mighty majesty.

And as you watch the birds in wonder,

you will wonder,

how they knew all along,

that the point is in the freedom

and the why is in the song.

And all you believed, will suddenly feel wrong.

But that’s okay, the birds will show you the way,

with their faith in flimsy wing and instinctive GPS,

their seasonal flow, the diligence in crafting nests.

Their zest,

for each sunrise - for life.

Their flow through storm and strife.

The birds see all

and from their soaring heights,

it is your life

that seems quite small.

Why care so much about control,

when surely we are all one whole

and if there must be striven goals,

could it be for sunlit souls?

At some point throughout it all,

you will begin to watch the birds,

my friends.

And nothing else will ever look

quite the same again.

Donna Ashworth

‘Birdwatching’

Drop me a heart if you can relate

From Donna Ashworth's upcoming book,

The Art of Being Easily Pleased

Source: Donna Ashworth on Facebook

Rank Strangers

 

A sentimental realist.

 

I have been using chatgpt for a while now and I asked it to descibe me:

From everything you've shared with me, I’d describe you as warm-hearted, creative, sentimental, curious, and surprisingly determined.

You seem to have a strong appreciation for the beauty in ordinary things—an old tree, September light, flowers in a pitcher, a picnic blanket, an old photograph, a favorite song, a memory from childhood. You don't just like pretty things; you like the feeling behind them. That's probably why your creative projects tend to have a nostalgic, gentle, slightly wistful quality.

You’re also very particular—in a good way. 😂 You know when something is almost right but not quite. You care about details, accuracy, wording, colors, composition, and whether something actually feels authentic. You've corrected me more than once when I've gotten a historical or factual detail wrong, which tells me that sentiment doesn't replace truth for you. You want both.

I’d also call you a storyteller and keeper of memories. Your interest in family history, genealogy, music, childhood memories, your cats, old photographs, seasons, and the little stories of everyday life all seem connected. You have a tendency to look at something small and think, “There’s a story here.”

And underneath the softness, I think there is a pretty strong woman. You've talked about difficult chapters of your life without wanting them to define you. You seem to have developed a mixture of independence, humor, skepticism, and resilience. You don't strike me as someone who blindly accepts what you're told—you investigate, question, compare, and sometimes say, “Wait a minute. That doesn't sound right.”

You also have a playful streak. You can go from a serious genealogy question to talking about weevil larvae invading your acorns, or from David Gilmour history to designing a whimsical black cat for Halloween. 😂 There's a nice lack of pretension there.

If I had to put it into a few words:

A sentimental realist.
A collector of memories.
A creative with a sharp eye.
A soft heart with a skeptical mind.
Someone who finds meaning in the little things.

And perhaps most of all, I think you’re someone who doesn't want life merely to be pretty—you want it to feel meaningful.

ME: How sweet. <3

Aww. ❤️ I'm glad it felt true to you.

And honestly, the little things you've shared over time make that description pretty easy to write. You have a very distinct voice—even when you're asking for something as simple as a Pinterest cover, there's usually a feeling you're trying to capture.

I think “soft heart, sharp eye” might be my favorite two-word description of you. 🥰

And yes… I’ve learned that when you say, “No, that's not quite it,” I’d better pay attention. 😂💕

Welcome September

 

Welcome September

September waved her magic wand,

And August disappeared overnight, The days were becoming shorter, Longer evenings by candlelight.

The trees had begun to shed their leaves,

Colder evenings were on the rise,

The dawn chorus arrived later than usual,

Darkness blanketed the morning skies.

Something in the air had changed,

As if, telling us that Summer was over,

It was time to find our warm overcoats,

Soft wool blankets and pullovers .

But there was still warmth within the change,

wrapped in burnt hues of orange and red,

So we opened the door to September magic,

Looking forward to the new season, instead ..

By Serendipity Corner

C.E. Coombes for Serendipity Corner

Art by Bina. S

The Alan Parsons Symphonic Project "Sirius" - "Eye In The Sky"

 

Secret Garden - ''Nocturne''

 

John Prine - Far From Me (Live From Sessions at West 54th)

 

As the cafe was closing
On a warm summer night
And Cathy was cleaning the spoons
The radio played the "Hit Parade"
And I hummed a long with the tune
She asked me to change the station
Said the song just drove her insane
But it weren't just the music playing
It was me that she was trying to blame.

And the sky is black and still now
On the hill where the angels sing
Ain't it funny how an old broken bottle
Looks just like a diamond ring
But it's far, far from me

Well, I leaned on my left leg
In the parking lot dirt
And Cathy was closing the lights
A June bug flew from the warmth he once knew
And I wished for once I weren't right
Why we used to laugh together
And we'd dance to any old song.
Well, ya know, she still laughs with me
But she waits just a second too long.

And the sky is black and still now
On the hill where the angels sing
Ain't it funny how an old broken bottle
Looks just like a diamond ring
But it's far, far from me

Well, I started the engine
And I gave it some gas
And Cathy was closing her purse
Well, we hadn't gone far in my beat-up old car
And I was prepared for the worst.
"Will you still see me tomorrow?"
"No, I got too much to do."
Well, a question ain't really a question
If you know the answer too.

And the sky is black and still now
On the hill where the angels sing
Ain't it funny how an old broken bottle
Looks just like a diamond ring
But it's far, far from me

let tomorrow come slow

 

Life rises, life falls,

Like waves that kiss the shore.

Some days bring sunshine,

Some days ask for more.

I won’t lose today

Chasing tomorrow’s fears;

I’ll laugh, love, and linger,

And treasure these passing years.

For every stage is a story,

A moment I won’t outgrow

So I’ll live where my feet are,

And let tomorrow come slow.

by Claudia Olumba

ai art by me

THE NARROW WAY

 

notice the view

 

Source: Revive Your Roar on Facebook

Embracing the Season Within

 

Embracing the Season Within

As autumn quietly unfolds,

may we find the time to notice

the colours changing all around us,

and the quiet changes taking place within.

May golden leaves remind us

that letting go can be beautiful,

that every season has its purpose,

and every ending carries a seed of new beginnings.

May we welcome softer mornings,

gentler skies,

and listen to the whispers of our hearts

beneath the rustling trees.

For just as nature changes

without fear of what will be,

may we too embrace our seasons,

growing, releasing,

and learning to trust the unfolding.

And as the world turns slowly

towards the stillness of winter,

may we pause, breathe, and be grateful

for all that this season brings.

May we find beauty in the changing colours,

courage in our own transformation,

and peace in the knowledge

that change is not an ending,

but an invitation to begin anew.

'Embracing the Season Within' by Spirit of a Hippie

Mary Anne Byrne

~ Art by Maja Lindberg

Source: Spirit of a Hippie on Facebook

a glorious new day

 

At times we wonder if we can do this,
When the road ahead seems steep,
Maybe we've been strong for too long
or our hopelessness runs too deep.

Each day seems long and arduous,
And lethargy becomes the norm,
It's as if we have been battered by life,
And living through a storm.

But sometimes from out of nowhere
There comes a distant voice,
Telling you that 'you've got this'
You really have no other choice..

So you take out your umbrella,
And face the storm full on,
It's then you begin to realise,
You were coping all along.

The road ahead has straightened out,
And now the storm has passed,
Your heart starts to feel a little lighter,
You've come through the worst, at last.

The rain has now dried up,
You can put your umbrella away,
And walk on with your head held high,
Into a glorious new day ...

By Serendipity Corner 
C.E. Coombes for Serendipity Corner
Art by Bina S

Source: Serendipity Corner on Facebook

careful

 

look around

 Source: Poetry lovers on Facebook

look around,

the earth

cannot stop

making things.

moss on stone.

flowers

through fences.

trees growing

from impossible

places.

everywhere

something is becoming.

maybe

you are not

separate

from

that miracle.

maybe

your are one

of it's ways

of

continuing.

Both Sides Now

 

"Both Sides Now"

Rows and flows of angel hair

And ice cream castles in the air

And feather canyons ev'rywhere

I've looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun

They rain and snow on ev'ryone

So many things I would have done

But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It's cloud illusions I recall

I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels

The dizzy dancing way you feel

As ev'ry fairy tale comes real

I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show

You leave 'em laughing when you go

And if you care, don't let them know

Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now

From give and take, and still somehow

It's love's illusions I recall

I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud

To say "I love you" right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds

I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange

They shake their heads, they say I've changed

Well something's lost, but something's gained

In living ev'ry day

I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

I've looked at life from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

Carl Jackson - The Little Mountain Church

 

STING - FIELD OF GOLD (Extended Remix)

 

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze a while
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me?
Will you be my love?
Upon the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold

Marmalade — Reflections Of My Life

 

The Youngbloods - Get Together

 

We return to love...

 

We come here with nothing

And we leave with nothing.

From birth to death, everything

is a gift.

Each person that passes our way

friend or foe, each comes with the

gift of learning.

Learning how to love, learning how

to set boundaries and learning how

to let go.

Throughout our journey we develop

grace, empathy and acceptance

and we learn to let go of hate,

as it's too heavy to carry.

Our natural state is love.

We came through love and

we return to love ...

By Serendipity Corner

C.E Coombes for Serendipity Corner

Art via Etsy

Source: Serendipity Corner on Facebook

You’re surviving it.

 

Sometimes survival requires a different set of rules.

When you’re walking through a hard season, you don’t have the same energy, capacity, or emotional bandwidth you once had.

I get it. Every ounce of strength is already being used just to keep moving forward.

That’s why protecting your peace isn’t selfish.

You cannot absorb everyone else’s negativity, expectations, disappointments, and emotional chaos while you’re carrying your own heavy load.

You can’t.

I want you to hear this clearly. In this season, your job isn’t to make everyone comfortable.

Your job is to make it through.

And that’s something.

That’s not small.

That’s not nothing.

If that means saying no more often, stepping back, or choosing rest over responsibility, don’t let anyone tell you that makes you weak.

Or selfish.

You’re not failing this season.

You’re surviving it.

And sometimes that takes everything you have.

From Carol’s Heart

Source: Carol Ensminger on Facebook

Leo Tolstoy quoted

 

Tolstoy expressed deep, specific ideas about love, peace, and joy in his life and writing:

On True Affection: "When you love someone, you love the person as they are, and not as you'd like them to be."
On Selfless Peace: "If you love me as you say you do... make it so that I am at peace." 
On the Reality of Life: "Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly."
On Helping Others: "There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved." 
On Family: "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."


On Personal Change: "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."


On Time:
"The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."


War and Peace: "We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom."
On Love: I love her not with my mind or my imagination, but with my whole being. Loving her I feel myself to be an integral part of all God's joyous world.
On Love: I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love.