When Ali Rahimi arrived in Austria in September 2015, he was full of hope. Hope that he would be able to live in peace and learn to read and write. Since his deportation, he lives in constant fear for his life.

Until the moment he made it to Austria at the age of 16, Ali's short life had been filled with fear and struggle. He grew up afraid not only of the brutal Taliban in his hometown of Ghazni, south-west of Kabul, but also of violence at the hands of his own father, of beatings which had left him unable to concentrate and learn at school.
When Ali was just 11, his father dragged away him from his mother and siblings to Iran, where he was forced to work laying tiles. His father kept all his earnings. Living illegally in Iran, Ali — an ethnic Hazara — was a prisoner, "locked up like an animal." When he turned 16, his father took their money and returned to Afghanistan. Ali was left alone in Iran. It was 2015. Then he saw a glimpse of hope. Europe was opening its borders.
It took Ali a month to reach Austria. He applied for asylum at the Traiskirchen refugee reception center south of Vienna and immediately set about learning German. For the first time in his life, with "his head free from fear," Ali "realized he was not stupid" and began to read and write. He made friends. From Traiskirchen he was moved to a home for youths in Graz, where he was given art materials. He taught himself to draw and paint by watching YouTube videos.
Two of his works were hung in the manager's office.
 
 
A first setback
Ali's first big blow came in 2016, when his asylum application was rejected. But he "stayed strong" and continued to study German and draw. He joined a football team, learned to swim, dance, ski and ice skate, and was "certain he would be allowed to stay in Austria." He had an Austrian girlfriend, Anna, and they planned to marry. In March 2016, Ali held an exhibition of his artworks in Graz and by 2017 he had illustrated and published his first book: a children's story called "Vaiana und Maui — a small story about a great love."
Read more: Austria persists with relentless hard line on asylum-seekers
"I had so many plans for my book, and for more books," writes Ali in fluent German from Kabul. But in 2018, he received his second rejection. "My heart broke. I could no longer smile. I had no more chances. I had to leave Austria."

On the advice of a lawyer, Ali went to Germany and applied again for asylum in Munich. But there he was told he had to return to Austria. "I cried and begged them to give me a chance to stay and be an artist. But they put me into Schubhaft (detention pending deportation)." After one month incarcerated in Germany, Ali was sent back to Austria. Again he was locked up, this time near Graz. Each week, representatives from the organization Menschenrechte Österreich (Human Rights Austria) visited him. And each week they told him to sign a document agreeing to his return to Afghanistan. "They said that if I didn't, the police would deport me by force, and it would be better for me if I went voluntarily."
One week after signing, Ali was sent back to Afghanistan: from Graz, to Vienna, to Istanbul, to Kabul. It was July 2018. A representative from the International Organization for Migration told him he would receive €2,800 ($3,175) to help him settle and start a business. He got €500. At first he was sent to a hotel in Kabul, so dismal he contemplated killing himself. Then he managed to contact his mother, for the first time since he was 11. He could hear the fear in her voice when he said he would come to Ghazni, which had recently been taken over by the Taliban.
Pariahs in their own country
There was no way to see his mother and siblings without his father knowing. Ali was terrified, and with good reason. His father was beyond furious to find his son back in Afghanistan.

Afghan society for the most part believes that "only criminals are sent back from Europe." Those who return are seen as failures who have brought disgrace upon their families. "They think we are drinking alcohol, smoking, doing drugs," writes Ali. And to the fundamentalist Taliban, returnees from the decadent West are "infidels" and "enemies of Islam," who deserve nothing less than death.
For the first days Ali's father refused to say a single word to him. When Ali called him "Papa," his father beat him. "He said to me: 'I am not your father, you asshole, get out of my life you animal.'"
One night Ali's father tried to force him to take up a weapon against the Taliban, who, as Sunni Muslims despise the Shiite Hazara majority in Ghazni. Ali refused, and his father beat him again. When Ali fled to Kabul, his father beat his mother so badly she was hospitalized. And when Ali tried to return to bring his mother and siblings to safety, he was stopped outside Ghazni by a group of heavily armed Taliban. One Talib took his phone and discovered messages in German to Ali's friends in Austria. Again Ali was beaten and whipped with a belt, and his phone smashed. When he finally got home to rescue his mother, his father discovered him, beat him again and locked him up with their animals.
No respite
By November 2018, Ali knew he would not survive if he stayed in Afghanistan. He made his way to Nimroz province, in the south, and paid a smuggler to take him back to Iran where he found work laying tiles, again illegally. He worked 12 hours days, living in hiding, in fear. But still he drew and dreamed of Europe. For five months he saved, and made it as far as Istanbul. There he was imprisoned with 2,000 other young Afghans. Every day they were beaten by Turkish guards and after three months Ali was sent back to Afghanistan. He was now 21, and exhausted.
Read more: Refugees face cold wait in Austria
Ali is one of around 20,000 Afghans who have been sent back — either "voluntarily" or forcibly — to Afghanistan from the EU since 2015. Refugee rights activist Doro Blancke of Fairness Asyl says hundreds more young Afghans like Ali in Austria are now living in fear of deportation. Many are in hiding, traumatized and depressed.
"Europe says Afghanistan is safe," says Zaman Sultani from Amnesty International. "But ask if they would travel without an armored vehicle from their own embassy within Kabul, let alone in the provinces." Sultani says deportees cannot return to their home villages because of extreme levels of insecurity and fighting between Taliban, "Islamic State" forces and corrupt local commanders. The danger has escalated even further since the signing of the US-Taliban peace treaty in February, after which more than 5,000 Taliban prisoners were released.
 
Since his second return to Kabul in mid-2019, Ali has been accepted into an art school established by Robaba Mohammadi, a teenage girl who paints and draws using her mouth. He's learned to read and write in his native Dari, and has written his second book in German. But the anxiety never stops. In March, Robaba's studio and school were hit by a bomb. Two of his colleagues were seriously injured. "If the Taliban find out I am an artist," he writes, "they will cut off my head."

Art by Combo Culture Kidnapper, France

The devastation and now the attempted genocide of the Kurd's and Christians in Syria is indeed horrible, In all of this the world turns its back on innocent people but more importantly the children.
 
When is enough death enough?
 
The Kurd's have an expression
 
"no friend but the mountains"
 
Again and again tossed aside by their allies.

I will post some exerpts from other sites, but needless to say this book was one of the most heart warming books I have read in a long time. If only we looked through the eyes of a child, how different this world would be.
 
The book is a refugee story through the eyes of a child, and about the war torn region of Syria. First and foremost I am happy that he and his family have made it to Canada, and proud that in this instance Canada acted so well bringing in so many from Syria. It is something close to my heart having been to the region and also never being able to grasp such horrors that children are made to suffer.
 
The book was written in English by Winnie Yeung, and you can feel right away she has captured the essence and spirit of Abu Bakr and his family, and had a very good understanding of the background of the stories told. I smiled at the end of the book to note what great research she did. Need I say, the compassion and her kindness shines through out here too.

Now, we all come from different places, different cultures, different religions, and we can chose to be divided or find a common human bond. When I read beautiful stories like this I will tell you, I find a common thread in all stories of war, divisions and terror. It crosses all the divides.
 
It is very simple.  When one can retain a smile or laughter,  one is reminded that its not for our own humanity that we do it, but to remain kind to all.Through this book, one will note the smiles and laughter have become part of the story. What a joy to read of Abu Bakr's father, who focused on love and smile's and laughter and less preaching, more the guidance of love. All of this through the horror of war.
 
To Abu Bakr's father and all the elder people who surrounded the children with love and protection, You are all Heroes! Every single one of you!
 
For anyone at all, this book is a gem, a must read!

Here are exerts from an article by Marie Loveland
 
 
Trump’s Dad Was So Racist, Woody Guthrie Wrote A Song About It
In 1950, Woody Guthrie signed a lease for an apartment in Brooklyn; his landlord was Fred C. Trump
By Mariel Loveland
 
In 2015, future President Donald Trump issued a seemingly innocuous-but increasingly portentous when put into context-statement: “My legacy has roots in my father’s legacy.” But it might be more than business acumen that has trickled down from the top of the gold-encrusted Trump family tree. Trump’s dad Fred had an unexpected occupant in one of his New York properties in the early 1950s: American singer-songwriter and social justice warrior Woody Guthrie. And guess what? Guthrie was no fan of “Old Man Trump.”
 
While contemporary musicians like Adele, Miley Cyrus, and Waka Flocka Flame have all taken to social media in order to criticize Donald Trump’s ideals, this was merely round two of musicians coming for the Trumps. Over 60 years ago, Guthrie was feverishly penning tunes lambasting Fred Trump for racist behavior. “Old Man Trump,” Guthrie’s song about Fred, exposed a dark world where the landlord and rumored KKK affiliate profited from an apartment complex that housed only white families. It included the scathing lines, “I suppose that Old Man Trump knows just how much racial hate/He stirred up in that bloodpot of human hearts/When he drawed that color line.”

FRED TRUMP ARRESTED AT KKK RALLY
 
In May of 1927, a 21-year-old Fred Trump was arrested in the melee surrounding a Klan rally in Jamaica, Queens. A New York Times article from the incident describes the scene as “1,000 Klansmen and 100 policemen [staging] a free-for-all.” For his part, Donald Trump vehemently denied that his father was ever arrested at a Klan rally, and he urged New York Times reporter Jason Horowitz to drop the subject in an interview, stating, “It shouldn’t be written because it never happened, number one. And number two, there was nobody charged.”
 
Trump did get one thing right: his father was never charged. Out of the seven people arrested, Trump’s father was the only one who got off completely free. According to a clipping from the now defunct Daily Star, four of those arrested were expected to go to court, and two were paroled. One, Fred Trump, was not held on charges. However, this doesn’t negate his standing as a member of the Klan. According to newspaper clip obtained by VICE, all the people arrested were wearing Klan attire, which VICE contends likely would have included Fred Trump.

Guthrie’s lyrics went as follows:
 
I suppose
Old Man Trump knows
Just how much
Racial Hate
he stirred up
In the bloodpot of human hearts
When he drawed
That color line
Here at his
Eighteen hundred family project.

After having just dont a blog on Cecilia Helena Payne-Gaposchkin, the astrophysicists, by complete coincidence yesterday I found out a Canadian woman has won the Nobel price this year for Physics, along with Athur Ashkin and Gerard Mourou.

"Donna Strickland, an associate professor at the University of Waterloo in Ontario, on Tuesday became the first woman in 55 years and the third ever to win the Nobel Prize in Physics, sharing it with an American scientist and another from France for their work in laser physics.

3rd female laureate in physics

Strickland is the first female Nobel laureate to be named in three years and is only the third woman winning in physics: Polish-French physicist Marie Curie earned the award in 1903 and German-born American theoretical physicist Maria Goeppert Mayer in 1963."

Quote from the CBC

More powerful lasers
Their research enabled new studies of matter by allowing scientists to produce more powerful bursts of laser light, said Michael Moloney, chief executive officer of the American Institute of Physics.

While laser eye surgery is the most familiar application of their work, Moloney?said, it has also let scientists probe fundamental forces acting within matter at very high temperatures and pressures.
"With the technique we have developed, laser power has been increased about a million times, maybe even a billion," Mourou said in a video statement released by Ecole Polytechnique.

“Since her death in 1979, the woman who discovered what the universe is made of has not so much as received a memorial plaque. Her newspaper obituaries do not mention her greatest discovery. […] Every high school student knows that Isaac Newton discovered gravity, that Charles Darwin discovered evolution, and that Albert Einstein discovered the relativity of time. But when it comes to the composition of our universe, the textbooks simply say that the most abundant atom in the universe is hydrogen. And no one ever wonders how we know.”
—
Jeremy Knowles, discussing the complete lack of recognition Cecilia Payne gets, even today, for her revolutionary discovery. (via alliterate)

Below is an excerpt from the authors web site , an introduction to the book. This book was just released in August of 2017, and I happened upon it at the local library. Being a fan of Paris, and loving French history, this seemed the perfect read for me.
 
Although the story is fiction, its based on a "maybe this happened" and is loosely based on real events during World War 2. The book was of course a GREAT READ, and I love when the author provides notes at the end, explaining or giving the book more context. In fact I will post the notes and research references here, this one book can lead to so many areas of interest!.

This book is part of a series, so its great to discover a new author, with more to read!!!!

Reposted from the authors web site
 
The Paris Spy
(Bantam Dell/Random House, August 8, 2017)

Maggie Hope has come a long way since serving as a typist for Winston Churchill. Now she’s working undercover for the Special Operations Executive in the elegant but eerily silent city of Paris, where SS officers prowl the streets in their Mercedes and the Ritz is draped with swastika banners. Walking among the enemy is tense and terrifying, and even though she’s disguised in chic Chanel, Maggie can’t help longing for home.

But her missions come first. Maggie’s half sister, Elise, has disappeared after being saved from a concentration camp, and Maggie is desperate to find her — that is, if Elise even wants to be found. Equally urgent, Churchill is planning the Allied invasion of France, and SOE agent Erica Calvert has been captured, the whereabouts of her vital research regarding Normandy unknown. Maggie must risk her life to penetrate powerful circles and employ all her talents for deception and spycraft to root out a traitor, find her sister, and locate the reports crucial to planning D-Day in a deadly game of wits with the Nazi intelligence elite.

Time for a lighthearted blog, even on a serious topic, well Global Warming being the serious topic, as no can take Trump all that seriously, ok except maybe the folks in the eye of his red nuclear button.
 
Now, I will say there are many people who confound science of all stripes, and I certainly will not say everything is black or white, as an example, I am all for the Oil Pipeline in North America as the alternatives are simply not there now , nor practical. Working in an industry of innovation, I know that we have already replaced fossil fuels; we are simply in the stage of transforming to new technologies.

However, Trump is the King of denying reality. How could anyone deny, that making the environment a better place for our children is not a good thing. Not to dwell on the issue, I just thought this song was amusing and kinda catchy!! The next one is a bonus!!!

Written by Philippe Krief, I found this book at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, and it is defiantly a great “coffee table” book. Loving both history and Paris, I look forward to the pleasure of reading this book!
 
The second is really a magazine of sorts, and this is a series on biographies, this one on the French poet Charles Baudelaire, a poet that has inspired me, so how could I resist this fine selection.
 

And that’s all folks; I haven’t blogged in a while, and have a “backlog” of stuff to do! Also thank you to some who have emailed me suggestions, all great ideas!

And remember these wise words, two heads are better than one! Just like two books are better than one! ( photo taken and the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts )

Darren, your Garden shall grow, until it reaches the size of your heart, then I will lift you up and we shall Dance, for every flower I grew, it was to wash away one tear from you.

If you all look on the menu page STORIES, I have done a couple of posts for Darren! Of course I will provide a link below.
 
The first was     Darren’s Garden of Eden and the second Gideon’s Law

Links to pages

I have received such a huge response and literally hundreds of emails, and I was very pleased people dropped by to read, however I was more than pleased only to know Darren appreciated the pages. So many people wished to add a little of their own garden, and so I decided to do so here.
 
With his permission, I will provide a little background that may help explain my admiration, of such a fine poet and humble young man. Darren is paralyzed from the waist down, he is autistic, and from various injuries is often in pain. Yet here he is, a radiant smile to all who approach him, a man who battles each day, to be here with us. I know he thinks I may be the wise one, but it is he who teaches me, each and every day. Now I have spoken of his ailments, only because they are persistent. However one is not defined by ones illness or predicaments.

I see Darren, as a wise man beyond his years. He speaks many languages, he is versed in music and. he can discuss any topic, and embrace any conversation. He is a man who builds poetic bridges, when so many admire men who wish to build walls. I truly find him a talented poet and his poems certainly humble me.

I will make this statement to all of the people who know him here; I don’t have to ask them if this is how they think, as I am sure of it. He is a man who brightens us all, who makes us think in softer tones, and brings us smiles.

So here in this blog, I too will add to the garden, and anyone at all who wishes so, send me your flowers, your garden photos, and I will post here for Darren. My desire is to bring to him a smile that he has shone upon on all of us.


Photos and paintings by
Seren Roberts
Lin Lane
Casarah Nance
Arthur the Great Vaso
Tim Smith
and many more to come!

Photo by Dave Sidaway, Montreal Gazette

It was one hundred and seventy years ago, that 6000 Irish immigrants perished in Montreal, due to Typhus fever. They had fled their homeland, Ireland due t the great famine of 1847-1848. Most where the very poor and many were already sick on the voyage over, thus why is also called "ship fevor"
 
In the year of 1859, bridge workers working on the Victoria bridge uncovered the mass grave, many of them, themselves Irish. At the time they erected a memorial, so that future generations would not forget. Officially named the Irish Commemorative Stone, it is more commonly known as the Black Rock and also has been referred to as the Ship Fever Monument.
 
Today, the Irish community has been lobbying for a more substantial monument and better preservation of the "Irish Commemorative Stone" As the land has been purchased by Hydro Quebec, lets hope that the Quebec Government cares about preserving its patrimony and the telling of this important historical event, so that the story is never forgotten.

Photo by Dave Sidaway, Montreal Gazette

I confess, I myself was not aware of the amount of people who perished, as when I think of the Irish Famine, I always think of Grosse Île, near Quebec City, that was a quarantine station for the Irish immigrants arriving in Quebec. Indeed many a thousand perished there as well due to Typhus fever.
 
This is however, not just an Irish Story. Sickness Sheds had been erected to take care of and segregate those who contracted the fever. Many people helped and cared for the sick, even knowing how contagious  and how dangerous this was. John Easton Mills, the then Mayor on Montreal tended to the sick and he himself caught the fever and died.

The order of the grey nuns also tended to the sick, as did many francophone's and native Indians. Over 1000 Irish orphans were adopted by French families and helps explain why over 40% of Quebecers have some Irish ancestry. Outside of Ireland this is the largest burial ground of Irish famine victims outside of Ireland.
 
Notes: As this was in today's newspaper here, I read up on the topic, from various sources. Any errors in fact are mine, and if anyone wishes to either correct or provide more detailed accounts of any part of this narrative, I would love to hear from you.

Well, well. Iran in yesterday’s elections chose a moderate, who wishes to embrace the world, build peace, and who rejects outright extremism. In other words, Iran voted for the opposite of Trump. What an interesting world we live in!
 
Moderate Iranian President, Hassan Rouhani, won a decisive second term against a decidedly extremist and intolerant candidate, Ebrahim Raisi. It is my sincerest wish that Rouhani winning a second term will be a turning point for Iran. What is of great joy is that huge numbers of Iranians came out to vote, and in Tehran the number of voters was double that of the last election. Even the executive branch in Iran has limited powers; it was the only area in which the hardliners did not control. It is of course also the only area in which the people have somewhat of a true say in matters. Never the less, the people have spoken and hopefully this will lead to a more open and free society!

First, let me say, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, and     the author Dalia Sofer, enchants the reader from beginning to end. Lovely poetry, one can not help but be enticed by any story taking place in Persia.
 
Knowing so many Iranians, who have told me of the beauty of their country and culture, I have to say my dream, is to be able to visit there, to see today, and to see the ancient history told by art and poetry, both then and now.

Below you will also find a beautiful poem by Hafiz!

I will provide a brief “wiki” summary of the plot. Suffice it to say, I loved the book, and am sure you will too.
 
Source: Wiki
 
During the first months after the 1979 Iranian Revolution, wealthy Jewish Iranian gemologist Isaac Amin  is suddenly arrested at his office in Tehran by the Revolutionary Guards who take him to prison. During his prison days, he meets fellow prisoners of different backgrounds, who are tortured and finally prosecuted. In interrogation sessions, his interrogator Mohsen, once torturing him with a lit cigarette and having him lashed, refers to the injustice of being affluent and to the justice that the revolution is bringing to the oppressed. After the guards scare him by putting him before a firing squad and shooting around his body, he says to Mohsen that he has realized the truth and is ready to pay all his savings as his debt to the revolution. After emptying his bank account, Mohsen declares him free and leaves him alone in the street.

Below is a poem of which part was quoted in the book! Enjoy
 
 
Poems from the Divan of Hafiz, by Getrude Lowthian Bell, 1897
 
XXXVIII
 
I CEASE not from desire till my desire
Is satisfied; or let my mouth attain
My love's red mouth, or let my soul expire,
Sighed from those lips that sought her lips in vain.
Others may find another love as fair;
Upon her threshold I have laid my head,
The dust shall cover me, still lying there,
When from my body life and love have fled.
 
My soul is on my lips ready to fly,
But grief beats in my heart and will not cease,
Because not once, not once before I die,
Will her sweet lips give all my longing peace.
My breath is narrowed down to one long sigh
For a red mouth that burns my thoughts like fire;
When will that mouth draw near and make reply
To one whose life is straitened with desire?
 
When I am dead, open my grave and see
The cloud of smoke that rises round thy feet:
In my dead heart the fire still burns for thee;
Yea, the smoke rises from my winding-sheet!
Ah, come, Beloved! for the meadows wait
Thy coming, and the thorn bears flowers instead
Of thorns, the cypress fruit, and desolate
Bare winter from before thy steps has fled.
 
Hoping within some garden ground to find
A red rose soft and sweet as thy soft cheek,
Through every meadow blows the western wind,
Through every garden he is fain to seek.
Reveal thy face! that the whole world may be
Bewildered by thy radiant loveliness;
The cry of man and woman comes to thee,
Open thy lips and comfort their distress!
 
Each curling lock of thy luxuriant hair
Breaks into barbèd hooks to catch my heart,
My broken heart is wounded everywhere
With countless wounds from which the red drops start.
Yet when sad lovers meet and tell their sighs,
Not without praise shall Hafiz’ name be said,
Not without tears, in those pale companies
Where joy has been forgot and hope has fled.

The Falklands War

I found this book in a used book store in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia! I was surprised and intrigued as to the connections with France and New France. The book is very detailed and thus may be boring to some; however, I found this to be a unique and interesting part of history. The devil is in the details, and this book certainly takes a reader through the war, day by day. I think what is also interesting is no one at the time thought such a small insignificant peace of land would cause such a conflict. Argentina learned this the hard way.

Now, I know most will not have the time to read the book and may not be interested in that moment in history. However, one of the things I try to do when writing poetry is to see things from the human element, or a particular person's point of view. I think humanizing these events helps us to create empathy and understanding of all things, not in terms of right or wrong, but in terms of realizing that humans inflicting pain on humans is a terrible thing. And by no means do I have any answers, only by viewing problems with lots of empathy, may one soften his thoughts towards any perceived enemy.

I have included a short video of Simon Weston, a veteran of the Falkland War, with the Welsh Guards. This is a short one but he has appeared on many shows and has given many interviews. He is a man who currently advocates for better treatment for War Veterans. This is an issue that most countries fail to recognize. It was interesting to hear him speak and added the human touch to the book.

I have posted her recent speech in the Canadian Parliament, and one thing I noticed, in the audience, the pride of her parents seeing their daughter as a beacon of hope for all of humanity. They have every reason to be proud.
 
She is now an honorary citizen of Canada, only the sixth one to awarded this honor, and I am proud as a Canadian, she has been chosen.
 
 I have posted a poem dedicated to her visit here in Canada this month as well as an old poem I had written in 2013.

You are Malala
 
April 2017

You have no more reason for fear
For the world now holds you dear
Your humble voice, speaking of others
You too a pearl, adored by worldly mothers
 
Touching the spirit of kindred souls
You have shown our senior leaders
A child can lead even the elders
You have paved that way
 
Humble of heart
Joyous towards mankind
Your smile is infectious
I, a simple poet, applause you
 
You have infected me too!
You are Malala

I am Malala
2013
 
Malala
A child
From a small village
Of Mingora
 
She wore a pink dress to look pretty
While she studied, the passion of knowledge
Her beauty
Her heart shines in her quest of learning
 
This child has the wisdom
Of eleven kingdoms
For this, they seek to destroy her
Talibani bombs to most seem strong
 
Only evil, attempts a child’s life
Only Angels saved her very soul
As she becomes a soldier
Of learning, a burning light
 
Is there a man to stand up to evil?
To shine a light upon heinous crimes?
Who of us has this will?
I ask you fourteen times, who will save us?
 
Malala
A child
From a small village
Of Mingora
 
They tried to send her to heaven
God sent us one angel back
So that may we learn yet again
The innocence of love
 
She has become the soul
Of  tolerance
She has become the princess
Of  knowledge seekers
 
In candle light we may prey
That her heart shall remain and stay
So that we may learn and grow
And fight evil, by simply saying NO
 
They shot a child in the head
For going to school you should be dead
The world wept at this cowardly act
Who would save us from such evil deeds?
 
Malala
A child
From a small village
Of Mingora
 
A child
With the wisdom of many Kings
A Princess with a heart of gold
Who has blessed us all
 
From velvet skies
A smile to behold

As I was listening today on the radio, about Internationals Women’s Day, and hearing all the activities and discussions about whats good and what is not, it came to me to do this blog. I thought to myself, why not do a blog to honor all the female guest poets on my site for this day? Sort of my poetic contribution to women’s day.
 
So this blog is dedicated to all the female Poets and Artists featured here on this site thus far. And…. Yes I have a small gift for you! At first I was going to write a poem, then I thought, who is one of the most romantic poets on PoetrySoup? It is most certainly not me!
 
So here below is a poem written by none other than Tim Smith. Thanks Tim, and its always fun to work on projects and ideas together!

She Always a Woman
(by Tim Smith)
 
Woman, you take my breath away
Not in what radiates off your precious skin
But what lies deep inside of you
 
Head held high
Not letting one moment
Of life slip on by
 
Strength more than a conviction
Capturing every ounce
Of my begging heart
 
Mother to many, daughter to all
Let me be your comfort
The harbor in your shore
 
Lead me
Feed me
Be the answer to my prayers
 
Guide me
Walk beside me
In the waning of our years

This will be a very simple blog. I am sure many of you have seen this video, and I sure have seen if more than I care to admit. I was just so inspired that its never to late to chase your dreams, whatever they may be.
 
Also I guess the subtext here is never judge a book by the cover!