Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon - EXCERPTS

Introducing My New Book – Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon (For my blocked up soul) – A draft Excerpt

5.{Endurance}

 I can do all things, suffer all things, give up everything and still be me if I so determine it. Something inside so strong. Can’t crumble under pressure when I know the strength inside.

 

 

 

The Indomitable Human Will

Strength expressed is often seen, by others as a noble thing

Strength contained is hardly seen,

Its power at rest, Controlled and tamed

It takes much more than meets the eye

To turn and walk away from strife

To deem it fit to keep one’s peace

No matter how provoked one may feel

It is beautiful to watch and indeed to see

This silent strength we all can have

The will to do and the will not to

Is strength beyond the popular show

The human will can move a mountain

There’s always a way, where there is the will

You can survive almost anything, anywhere, at any time

If you just know how to draw, on that treasure, the human will

So next time you are tempted to say out loud, It’s all too much, I cannot cope

Draw on the strength from deep within

Stand tall and dignified, if only on the inside of you

Your will, its strength it will lend to you

To carry on, when hope has died

Don’t let it break, ’tis a treasure indeed

Stand tall inside, your future is for keeps.

 

 

Meet David…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were all smartly dressed in their colourful celebratory military regalia. Graduation day! Thought David. Finally. I am now a full fledged soldier. He turned to look at the young man on his right. His colleague Carl. They arrived as young recruits almost 10 months ago to start their training and despite the many who have fallen out of the race, they both managed to keep up with the gruelling regime and have graduated today.

David, aged 20 was set to take on the world. His military career was just the beginning. He will not succumb to living a dull life, like his parents and some of his friends. He plans to travel around the world and do life the way it was meant to be done, living on the edge, by the seat of his pants, never settling down.

He garnered and begged for his first posting to be an exciting one and by exciting he meant dangerous. It was not long before he was posted to Afghanistan for three months. And so began the great drama of his life. A drama to surpass all other dramas he could have drummed up for himself in his wildest imagination.

His was a moderately comfortable life prior to enlisting in the army. He was still living with his mum and dad in what he felt was an average house, average town with no potential for excitement. He did not have to be concerned about where his next meal was going to come from, or about dangers lurking in the night. He thought the rest of the world was not so different from his, perhaps just a bit more exotic. He thought that all young men just worried about being popular with the girls, being lauded by their mates and spending time being football mad and strategising how to lay hands on the next season’s football premier league tickets. In his world, game boys and virtual war lords were heroes. Jumping off cliffs and going sky diving were the best thrills in life. He was constantly seeking scarier thrills until he decided an army career was what he wanted. No one dared tell him otherwise. His parents felt that at least he will learn some discipline, and after a few years settle down and have a life like theirs. A good life with strong family ties and children and a good job making a decent living. That was not David’s dream.

So he set off for Afghanistan that autumn month last year. How wrong he was about the world. It did not take him long to see that the rest of the world was quite different. It was plagued with, poverty, real poverty, people living in dirt houses that get smashed in whenever it takes others fancy to dislodge them, school was a luxury for young boys his age, everyone had to fight, one way or another, fight to live.

The Horrors of those three months will always remain vivid in his mind no matter how much he tries to forget them. He saw horrible things that no young man should be exposed to. Decapitated human heads, children’s limbs hanging loosely on their bodies, body parts strewn in bits and pieces all over a compound, a place of laughter and communal family meetings now turned into a grave site, whole villages that have been abandoned now ghost towns. David thought to himself, where’s all the love gone? No community of people should be made to live like that by their own people in the name of freedom fighting. His young mind could just not make any sense of it. It seemed that over here betrayal is punished severely, children are treated like comrades in war. Mothers become detectives and war casualties who have to find the bombs before the bombs find them and their children. As a soldier, as far as David was concerned, that was just one side of the story, the enemy’s side. You could not help but feel sorry even for them. These were people whose culture and orientation to life was so different from the carefree, let’s have fun, all is well with the world attitude he and his friends grew up with back at home.

Then came the day he will never forget. The day he became a man. The day he learnt all his lessons at once.

It was to be the day that his life will be irrevocably changed. The morning call went out as usual. His regiment were based in a remote area and everyone knew the morning drill. A splash of cold water on your face, a quick tidying up of yourself, group breakfast eaten in a hurry, after which soldiers dispersed  to their various patrol areas. He was with the bombs squad and theirs was a small team and he was the youngest in this very specialist team.  Their main job was to go over old grounds, detonating bombs and grenades that have been buried by the enemy some as a trap for foreign soldiers and ‘traitors’ and others which were still buried and forgotten right there where their own children and new communities now venture to rebuild their homes. These go off all the time killing civilians, and often travelling indigenous people along with their children. David’s squad are trained to detect such bombs through a painstaking process of sweeping whole areas one little bit at a time. Every single step they took was an exercise in threading a path between life and death. He witnessed first hand a colleague being blown apart by a bomb that went off because his equipment did not detect it. In this area of work your equipment and your attention to every minute detail were the two most important components of what kept you alive.

David was fully geared up today. They, all seven in a group were ready to begin the tedious, step by step accurate horizontal walk to clear the area. It was one of the previous villages where one notorious war lord was known to have been hiding. Now, deserted, there was nothing but debris left over from when the rebels were here; broken pots, pieces of cloths, even tobacco pipes, pans, burnt out remains of food and campfires. The team has to patiently sort through each thing they could see because you never could tell what was lurking underneath something inconspicuous. Anything could be a trap. Even more dangerous were areas of ground that looked cleared and immaculate. There was almost always something buried at such places. Nothing  is considered irrelevant or disregarded and one has to have a keen eye and great focus. You had to be fearless, not the jumping off the cliff kind. You needed to be calm, focused, unflinching, accurate hardheaeded person to do this job and David was learning fast.

He thought to himself as he inched forward; back at home, his friends always called him a daredevil, never afraid to try dangerous stunts. He was considered fearless. Now, he realised that one did not know what fear is until you see colleague decimated by a bomb and you think to yourself, that could very easily have been me. The mental torture of not being able to predict what will happen next was enough to drive a grown man crazy. It was a relief at the end of each day to go back to base with no casualties. Due to their skill and level of training, casualties were rare but profoundly traumatising if you happened to witness one.

David saw a patch of grass just a few steps ahead of him and thought to himself ‘that looks suspicious’. No sooner had he had the thought than he heard his commanding officer yell out a command for everyone to stand still. David’s heart begun to beat erratically. The patch of grass was directly in front of him and it will be him who will have to step towards it as they worked in one single file, going straight ahead only with everyone concentrating on what was directly in front of them. There was no way he could swap places with an older more experienced soldier. All eyes were on him as everyone understood that this patch was his patch to tackle. He was the youngest among them all and the least experienced. He considered himself lucky to even be part of the team. Funny he was not feeling very lucky right now. Sometimes, such patches were clear traps and had something buried there but other times it was a distraction to keep them away from looking at where the real trap is.

The captain knowing he had their attention seemed to be speaking directly to David now. He spoke as softly as he could, reminding him what to do with his equipment. His voice for some reason was soothing and put some much neded confidence in David. The command was given and they all went forward one step. Shouts of ‘clear !’  rang out all around. Another step. ‘clear!’, a third step and he was right in front of the path of green grass. Finding green grass anywhere here was a miracle of nature, but this one seemed to be firmly planted, not a trap, but you never know. Command was given, next step…. As David moved forward, for some reason which he will never fathom, just one of those quirks of fate, he turned to look at the soldier next to him and realised that he was frozen on the spot. He had not taken the next step as ordered, he looked petrified and was shaking profusely. David noticed that the red alarm light on his sweeper was blinking. Soon it started beeping, a sign that there could be something buried right there where he was standing.  David could hear him muttering to himself , ‘ I don’t want to die’ ‘no, no no no I don’t want to die’ David called out his name and said ‘come on man’ do your job, man’.  All attention was now on him. This was no time for delay. If there was a bomb in front of him, it has to be detonated and there was no time to spare. David’s mind played back a conversation he had recently had with him back at base. This man had just received news the previous week that his young wife had delivered their first baby, a baby boy. They all saw the picture of his smiling wife with the beautiful baby boy in his arms. He’s had a huge smile on his face all week and was looking forward to going home to see his new baby as soon as this assignment was over. He had everything to live for.

The captain backed out an order! The distinct tone of urgency could be heard in his voice. David for the life of him could not remember a word of the order. All he could think about was the picture of his colleague’s wife with the new baby in her arms. He had to do something now.

Against all his raging natural instincts, David stepped sideways to try to clear the ground in front of his colleague. It was the wrong move.  The time had run out. He heard the captain’s loud shout at the same time as he heard the bomb go off. Boom! The whole earth shock, and then there was…. Nothingness. David thought to himself. This must be what it is like to die. I must be dying. Then he had no more thoughts.

That was three months ago. It’s a miracle he did not die. What is left of him is hard to live with. As he lays here in hospital back at home having had so many near death episodes, in and out of comas, surgeries to save his life, with his life still hanging in the balance, blind and limbless, fighting to wanting to live, even more so after each of the numerous surgeries he has had, he realised he desperately wanted to live.

He was satisfied with what he has seen of the world so far. Now he was ready to settle down. To really live. His progress everyday was a surprise to all. Any one visiting him comes away with their faith in human kindness restored. David makes sure he tells them that he is no hero, he simply followed his natural instinct and that instinct tells him that there is so much more of life for him to live. He will fight to live. He is not about to give up now.

David is happy that, through his actions the life of a new father and husband had been spared. This whole experience has peeked his desire to live despite the seemingly un surmountable disabilities he will have to live with. No matter what the doctors say, he knows he will live. This was meant to be. His life now counts for something. He is survivor. Not only that, he has stared death in the face and refused to let it take both him and his colleague. David can barely talk, but his speech is so clear to anyone who listens.  Life is for the living, you can fight both for yours and that of others. Never give up. Never give in. Once a hero, always a hero. Come on soldier. The battle is not over yet. That is the voice of his commanding officer ringing in his head even now lying here, half dead. It is an order he intends to obey.

Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon - EXCERPTS

Excerpt from my new book – ‘Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon (for my Blocked up soul)’

4.{Lost Love}

I now feel nothing in the place where I once felt everything, that place where my heart is meant to be, where it is supposed to beat with passion with every breath I take, now it beats with nothing if it beats at all.

 

Thats The Way Love Goes

Love in Bloom, Is like the brightest field of flowers

Brilliant colours, Thrilling the senses

Dizzy laughter, Amidst a cascade of tears

Relaxing the soul, Exciting and humbling

A myriad of feelings, Enlarging the heart

Nothing is quite as beautiful, As true love in Bloom

Love turned sour, Is like the sun scorched flower

No vitality, no spice, Colourless and distasteful

Beauty turned vain, Quenching the hearts fire

Empty days, Sleepless nights, Dull and meaningless

Hearts gone cold and numb, Hurt and lonely

Nothing is quite as dreadful, As love turned sour

(Insert picture)

Meet Alicia……….

Nothing surprises me anymore. I have seen it all, heard it all, been there and done that and I have the T-Shirt to prove it. I have mixed with hardcore criminals, rendevoued with poverty, shared a drink with loneliness. I have ridden the dejected horse of ridicule, and ridden high on the wine of success. Boy, do I have a story to tell.

Born to the poorest parents you have ever met. If there was one thing they were good at it was making babies without a care how they will be raised. My mother at least kept a roof over our heads even if it was a constantly leaking one. Inside the house, if you could call it that, it was another whole story in itself. If she was at home, you could be sure to find her, drugged out of her mind, comatose on the dirty littered floor in the one spacious room in the house she called her private parlour. It was the most unkempt, filthiest room in the house. No one was allowed to enter in except my father. No one, not me or any of my seven siblings were ever allowed in except in an emergency on the occasions we had to call for help from the neighbours, the ambulance services or the police, and those were regular occasions, at least once a week particularly on nights when the fighting, banging each other around, the sounds of breaking glass and furniture being dashed against the wall became too much for us to bear.

I grew up in a large family but I know what it means to be lonely, to feel as though you had no one else but yourself in this whole wide world. I learnt to mistrust everything and everyone except my own intuition which for some reason has always been very sharp and accurate. It kept me alive. It was what made me know to hide in the big pot in the kitchen when I was five, the night ‘the gang’ raided my house and started shooting, looking for my dope infected, purposeless brother who had flaunted yet another unknown, stupid gang rule. It was that same intuition that stopped me from popping the nice looking pink pills my air head of a sister left on the kitchen table in her hurry to go out partying one cold night when I was 11 and trying hard to understand the world, trying fit in and be just like her. My intuition has brought me through many things, most of which are too horrible to remember. I do not even want to think about the night I was raped right there in front of my little sister. I knew I had to endure it otherwise she could get hurt.

What I am most grateful for is that right from the start, as soon as I could think and talk, I knew that I was different. I knew that I had to live my life differently in readiness for a better future than the one I could see around me everyday. I loved school and wanted to be there all the time. I guess it was my escape from the harsh reality of my life. It was the one place where I felt normal, encouraged, appreciated and fed… oh yes the food. I loved the food in the school cafeteria and found ways of getting what I needed everyday. Besides the free food there was what I could scrounge off others including the teachers and the dinner ladies who perhaps felt sorry for me. Everyone knew my story. They knew about my family where a new baby is born each year.  No need to worry about no food at home. There were people that made sure I had enough to eat at school.  At school I could stay in the library, have some peace and quiet and escape into other people’s world through books and stories. I was the first one in the family to graduate from secondary school. The rest never bothered. They found ways to hustle and survive and that did not include school. But I was different. I was determined that I will become a politician, a banker or a solicitor. I will be powerful and rich whatever it takes. The easiest way to achieve this, I thought then, was to study, not get distracted by any kind of social life, or fashion or fun. That in my view was for airheads like my elder sister who have nothing but their looks to go on with. I didn’t think I particularly had the looks, but what I had will do just fine. You can imagine the persona and the image I portrayed of myself by the time I was ready for college. I was a book worm, a nerd only interested in political and academic arguments, no interest whatsoever in looking good, having my hair done or painting my nails. No interest in boys except perhaps this one boy I knew when I was about twelve years old. For some reason I could not wait to see him each day at school.

He was thirteen and gorgeous and did not even know I existed. The feeling landed on me suddenly and disappeared just as suddenly when I over heard him complaining to a friend of his about his low score in his maths exams. Even at 12, I knew I wanted nothing to do with someone who was getting low scores in maths. Although I never figured out what exactly attracted me to him, this experienced defined my attitude to men and relationships. Unless you had something sensible to say, to offer or contribute, unless you were rich or on your way to being rich and influential, I wanted nothing to do with you. This attitude became even worse after I got a scholarship to go to one of the best universities in the country. I won’t tell you its name because you just might form an opinion about me I’d rather you didn’t. Suffice it to say, it was the reserve of the crème de la crème of my society.

So you see I had no choice but to redefine myself. I had to make up a background and a family history that didn’t exist. It was the only way to be accepted into the numerous cliques in this institution. It was also in the same year that I discovered my feminity. I had turned 20 and had filled out in all the right places. I decided to find out what I will look like if I made the effort so had a friend organise a makeover weekend for me. I discovered I was just as beautiful as any of those air heads who had nothing to offer apart from their looks. Beauty and brains. No one had to tell me I had both. I knew it and decided it had to be used as a powerful combination for my benefit. I do not intend to graduate from here and go back to the dead end community I was born into. A good job will not be enough. I needed to marry into the echelons of power in this nation. I decided to find myself a suitor.

Unfortunately I could never relax long enough to socialise. Whenever I tried, I got irritated by the young men. They always managed to say the wrong thing or tried to take advantage of me not realising that I was smarter and more hardcore than they could ever dream of being. I was a ghetto girl in disguise. The whole foreplay of chit chatting about nothing, getting friendly, getting to know each other before negotiating the terms of a potential relationship was too much for me to cope with. I wanted a businesslike relationship on my side and love on the side of my partner. I felt, that way, I could maintain control and not get used and dumped. I eventually gave up and concentrated on getting really good grades, joined activist groups, mentoring networks and the like. I even joined a sorority to keep up with the high class girls.

Although I wasn’t looking for love, love found me and I fell very hard for the most unlikely candidate. I have no idea how it happened. I don’t think either of us planned it. With Kevin all my guard was down. I simply let him in, not because he was gorgeous. He was not even particularly brainy. He was just Kevin and I enjoyed being with him. We met when I was in my second year. He seem painfully shy and socially inept, more so than I was. We became friends and were soon inseparable. We got even closer when we begun to work on the college newspaper. Those long evenings just slumped out in his room discussing articles and topics of interest to feature in the newsletter, time spent in the library together, time spent just being together. I think I became attracted to him because he wanted nothing from me neither did he pose a threat of any kind to me. He was not a project to conquer and I did not immediately see him as a potential suitor. It was when the long summer holidays were approaching and we knew we were going to be apart for eight weeks that we begun to notice how attached to each other we had become. I missed Kevin terribly during those holidays. I couldn’t wait to get back to school to start ‘negotiating’ my place in his life. Luckily he felt the same. We planned our whole lives. We decided how many children we would have, where we will live, what jobs we will do. It was better than I dreamed. I’d found my soul mate.  Although it was no longer a primary concern, I wanted to know everything about Kevin’s background. I told him everything about mine. After all, this was Kevin, my Kevin. I trusted him. Kevin had previously told me that his father was a senator in another state. His grandfather had made his money through the oil industry. But I now see something in his eyes I had never seen before each time he speaks about his family. A look of powerlessness and of resignation. He briefly mentioned that he was being groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps into politics. His family had already chosen whom he should marry and although he knew the girl quite well he did not feel about her the way he does about me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear more. I was beginning to get agitated. This is my Kevin, mine and only mine. I knew I had to fight for him but how? It was later I realised he had to fight for me, not the other way round. All my insecurities rose to the fore. Kevin knew that his family will not support his decision to marry me because his father had already heard about me and had called to caution him. He didn’t really want to talk about it. He simply wanted to keep his home life from intruding on the happiness he had found with me for a while, well as long as he could.

Another year went by and soon graduation was fast approaching. I had to ask the question. I had to know what Kevin intended to do. As soon as the question popped out of my mouth, I noticed the sad despondent look on his face and knew he had lost the fight. This fight for our love. He did not have to say a word. I knew it was over. This unique, once in a lifetime love I had for him and which I thought he had for me was not enough after all. He had pitted this slum, poor, unknown, girl against the wealth and prestige that he will loose if he chose her against his family’s wishes and had decided not to do so. Although I was fit for him in the small world of college, he did not think I was fit to be his wife in the real world.

This moment was definitely another turning point for me. It will define my life and future relationships. All my insecurities came back up again.  My old guard was up again all of a sudden. My constant childhood friend. My intuition which I thought I had lost. I was Alicia again. The girl who has to stand on her own two feet. Deep in my heart, I felt the locks clamping down again and I was powerless to stop them. It was such a sad time. I refused to show it. I made a resolution. I will prove him wrong. I will ensure that my background does not limit what I will accomplish in the future. As for love who needs it when it can be so fickle?

From that day on until the day we graduated, I avoided Kevin. I loathed him as much as I thought I loved him. I decided that love was a distraction I did not need if I was to become the woman I planned to be in the future. I did not need a man to get me to the dizzying heights of success. I will do it all by myself. It will be many years before this deep icy sadness lodged where my heart should have been will begin to thaw.

In the meantime, I did my best to exceed all my expectations, both good and bad. Over the years, I learnt to accept my history, my family and the community that nurtured me as a little girl. I learnt to give back and make life better for other girls who would have walked in my shoes without intervention. I forgave my parents. They were of another generation and had their own histories they had to contend with. I did find love again but I first had to find myself. And by the way….. I did accomplish my goals. All of them. They just did not make me as happy as I thought they would.

As I look across this big dinner table at this Christmas time, at my children and grand children and at Kevin, now an old man .. yes we did find each other again, after many years, what I am most grateful for is that love did find me afterall, in more ways than one.

Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon - EXCERPTS

Excerpt from my Book – Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon For…..

3.  {Uncertainty}

How I wish, I could catch the wind and keep it close to my heart so I never have to be blown away by what tomorrow holds.

 

 

 

 Hope for Tomorrow (Poem)

How can I

Know for sure

What tomorrow holds?

How can I see beyond

The troubles of today

Feeble hands

Tired Thoughts

Reminders of my past

Deep Regrets

Time misused

On things I thought will yield

Can’t go on

All strength is gone

And yet my spirit cries

Arise and seek

Your makers will

His strength to you will come

Hope renewed

Direction seen

To walk where angels dare

How could I

Not have seen

A road so very clear

A joyful heart

Strength untold

To do my makers will

Now I see

Beyond today

There’s hope for Tomorrow. 

 (Insert graphics)

 

 (Short Story)

‘Come on Sheila. It’s time to go. It’s almost midnight’, urged Diamond. ‘We do not want to loose our regulars. Its ‘good friday’ our best night of the week. Come On!’

Sheila tip-toed into the small dark room and planted a big wet kiss on the forehead of her sleeping toddler and gently tip-toed back to the door where Diamond was impateintly waiting.

This is not the first time Sheila has left her baby home alone at night. She always tells herself; ‘he sleeps like a log and I will be back before he even wakes up’. 

She looks up into the night sky as they made their way towards the busy high street. Diamond looked at her curiously and asked. ‘What are you looking up at the sky for? I never took you for a star-gazer or the romantic type’. Sheila responded; ‘No, I am neither really. I am just thinking that there must be someone up there watching over us. Do you know the number of times I have had to leave my baby home alone and each time I have returned and he’s been safe. Anyway, let’s hurry before our spot gets taken by those hustlers’.

Sheila and Diamond became friends when they met one night on the street corner where Diamond worked. Diamond worked as a call – girl and was at her usual spot where all her regulars come to pick her up. Sheila had just had her baby and had been thrown out by her boyfriend who said he did not want her or her lousy baby anymore and that they had to find somewhere else to live. Sheila had no work permit and was illegally living in the country when she met him. She had no relatives or close friends to turn to given that she came to the country as a war child from another country seeking refugee status. She was put straight into the care system until she turned 18 and then got chucked out and told to return to her country. There was nothing and no one to return to. She lost everything years ago and honestly believes that she would have died had there not been an invisible hand guiding her path all this time. Well, her trials and struggles both from her childhood and during her time in the Care System, those are long stories not to be remembered today.

Luckily for her, Diamond found her that night. The night that horrible boyfriend of hers threw her and his 3 month old baby out. Diamond found her crouched in a corner on this same high street covered with some cardboards to keep both herself and her baby warm. She took them both home to her small flat above the shoe repairer’s shop. They have been inseparable ever since. Best friends for life. Diamond introduced her to prostitution soon after. Now, she spends her day taking care of her baby and the night  prowling the street with Diamond, looking for customers and playing hide and seek with the police.

Sheila quietly thought to herself; ‘fridays are good nights, they each will get at least two customers tonight which will put some much needed money in their pockets. ‘I do not enjoy this lifestyle but there is no other way to survive’ She reasoned with herself. ‘Maybe one day, I will save enough money to…..’  She wasn’t sure what she will save for. Infact, she wasn’t certain about anything as far as the future is concerned.  Lately, she has not been liking friday nights because one of her regular customers who says he is a Solicitor working in the city has been bugging her to tell him more about herself, to give up the lifestyle, with promises that he will take care of her. But once bitten, twice shy. It is hard to trust anyone now, anyone except Diamond. It is especially hard to trust any man. Despite how she feels about people and about the future, she just has to take one look at her son and realise that she cannot help but want a better life for him. Anyway, this customer always pays her well but insists that he does not want to have sex with her. He just wants to talk. He unsettles her but seems kind too, in a strange sort of way. Come to think about it, what will a good kind man be doing seeking the company of a prostitute? He tells her that he sees a light shining in her eyes.  According to him, a person’s eyes are the windows to their soul. He tells her that he thinks her soul is beautiful and that she deserves better things from life than what she appears to be involved in.

Tonight she will find out more about him and what he is really about. Tonight she will treat him like a person instead of just a customer. She was so deep in thought she did not hear Diamond whispering. Anyway Diamond is not the whispering type. She is the shouting type. Diamond takes life by the horns and rides hard. Her slogan is, Life does you no favours so why should you do it any favours? She jokingly always says that she is a diamond in the rough, you have to look closely to see her sparkle. But Sheila has always known that underneath the hardened exterior is a very loving person who deserves better than the hand life has dealt her. Diamond was and will always be her guardian angel. Friends for life.

‘Why are you whispering Diamond’? Asked Sheila. ‘Look!’ Diamond responded, staring straight ahead. There he stood, waiting; her regular customer, the one who wants no sex. He was dressed differently today, in a suit and a tie, looking really smart and posh. He had a bouquet of flowers in one hand. He was smiling at them as they walked towards him. As they got nearer, he went down on one knee and began to say the words that Sheila thought she will never hear as long as she lives.

He said ‘tonight, I come to ask you to marry me, Sheila. I have come to love you, although I know you think I do not know much about you. I lost my wife two years ago and until I met you, I have not wanted to be with anyone else. The night we met, I was not looking for a prostitute. I had decided to end my life that night and thought I will do it as far away from my home as I could. So I came this way. When I saw you, I knew straight away what you were doing standing there soliciting for customers with your beautiful eyes. Your eyes….. they looked so haunted, so sad, almost as sad as I was feeling, but there was a light shining through at the same time. I just wanted to be with you, to talk to you. You took my mind off my own misery for a few hours by just listening and giving me the attention you did that night. I was not interested in sex but I wanted to see you again so I decided to go back home and come again the following week. You have made me want to live again and I want to live with you. I want us to have a life together. Will you marry me?’

Sheila was speechless. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement. Even Diamond was shocked into silence. The silence was deafening as they both waited for Sheila’s response?

All Sheila could think about was that this must be a dream. If she just stands very still she might wake up any minute now… any minute now…… any minute now…..

Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon - EXCERPTS

Warm Honey Drizzle & Lemon – Excerpts

Dedication……….

To my secret source of many warm honey drizzle and lemon drinks on my cold cold nights…………..you make me wax lyrical…only you, this is for you J.

Introduction

I announce………

 ………..that life is for the living; but living can make us tired when there are no reprieves from all the dust we

 gather along life’s pilgrim way. This simply blocks our souls and now we go about, nursing our dry, parched,

 blocked up souls.

I have been there, this barren land, trying to soar on broken wings, hopping along, just wanting to live….

 Live….live like I know life is meant to be lived.

Life can make one’s soul weary, feels worse than a blocked nose on a cold winter’s night.

We cannot see through the fog.

We cannot smell the heady scent of the blooming rose,

We cannot sneeze it out, this chesty blockage in our souls,

We cannot cough it out.

I know what gives me sweet slow release

I need that remedy, which does not taste like medicine.

Give me my warm honey drizzle and lemon drink; Let me take a long long swig.

Let me sit awhile and drink. Drink from this serving of the brew of life.

It is relief for my troubled, cold soul. Let the ice melt away, let me live again.

Speak back my life to me, as I curl up warm and cosy to drink from;

These poetic rhymes,

These talking pictures

And real life stories that speak to me of me.

Let me know, I am not alone

Let me know you understand my story, HEAL MY SOUL