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Step away a while….

There are moments when the world feels like it has had far too much tea and is humming with nervous energy. Every screen glows like a tiny sun and every notification tugs at your sleeve. That is when the universe itself seems to whisper go outside for a breath and touch something real. Let your toes wander into grass or sand or onto a quiet bit of earth. Feel the steady pulse beneath you. It is ancient and patient and it never rushes you the way your inbox does.

And when you do step away for a little while the strange magic is that everything inside you begins to settle. Thoughts stretch out like sleepy cats and worries shrink to their proper size. A small offline pause becomes its own kind of rebellion a reminder that you are a living creature not a constant broadcast. In a world spinning faster each season there is something brave and bright about choosing stillness. The future will always need dreamers who remember how to breathe.

JH

 
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Posted by on November 15, 2025 in Uncategorized

 

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In Quiet Fields

In quiet fields where soft winds roam, we stand

And feel the breath of those who marched before.

Their names drift through the grass like distant sand

And settle in our hearts forevermore.

We promise them our memory will stay

As still as dawn that trembles into day.

The poppies rise in gentle crimson light,

Their petals catch the turning of the sun.

They glow as if they gathered up the night

Then traded it for hope when morning won.

So when their red blooms stir beneath the sky,

We look, we breathe, we remember why.

JH

 
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Posted by on November 8, 2025 in poetry

 

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Honesty

Soft truth in the air
Voices clear as morning bells
Hearts open like dawn

Eyes meet without shade
Words fall pure as spring water
Trust blooms in still light

JH

 
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Posted by on November 3, 2025 in Uncategorized

 

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Love em

Daily writing prompt
Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?

I love lazy days, it’s a time for reflection, chilling, reading a good book, or finishing off something you wanted to do for a while…

Lazy days..bring them on..

 
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Posted by on October 17, 2025 in Uncategorized

 

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How Can You Sit and Be Silent?

How can you sit and be silent,
while children fade from the sky?
Do your lips not burn with the question
how long, how long, and why?

A man builds thrones from his lying tongue,
and truth is left to die.
Your silence is a shadow’s song
and even shadows cry.

JH

 
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Posted by on October 11, 2025 in Uncategorized

 

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I Want More Kindness in the World

I want more kindness in the world

not the kind that hides in silence,

but the kind that rolls out like sunlight,

warming pavements,

healing strangers.

I want kindness that speaks up

when cruelty takes the stage,

that plants itself firm as an oak

and says, “No. Here, love grows.”

I want kindness that lingers

not a passing smile

but a steady flame,

lighting doorways where the lost wander,

offering bread,

offering rest.

I want kindness in the clumsy,

in the ordinary,

in the hands that hold shopping bags,

in the voices that say hello

and mean it.

I want kindness

not because it is easy,

but because it is strong

a rebellion,

a revolution softer than steel

yet sharper than any sword.

I want more kindness in the world,

because kindness is not small.

It is the thing that saves us,

the thread that mends us,

the promise that

we are still

worth saving.

JH

 
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Posted by on October 9, 2025 in poetry

 

The strange thing about bullying and hiding behind a so-called “campaign”

It is a most peculiar and troubling spectacle to behold that J. K. Rowling, once exalted in the public imagination as a benevolent architect of whimsical childhood narratives, has instead refashioned herself into a crusader of antagonistic commentary, a self-appointed sentinel of “women’s safety” whose rhetoric, far from protecting, has functioned as a sharpened blade against other women, most notably those, like Emma Watson, who dare to articulate a vision of feminism that is inclusive rather than exclusionary. The paradox is almost Shakespearean: the very author who built her legacy on tales of courage, loyalty, and triumph over cruelty now appears to wield her influence as a weapon of cruelty itself, engaging in a pattern of online disparagement and public belittlement that seems less concerned with safeguarding women and far more invested in punishing dissenters. It is both astonishing and profoundly dispiriting that a writer of children’s literature, whose moral universe was once populated by lessons on compassion, solidarity, and the necessity of standing against bullies, has so visibly embraced the role of bully herself, hurling invective and fostering division under the guise of principle. The dissonance between the professed ideals of protection and the observable reality of aggression is so glaring that one cannot help but describe it as a tragic inversion, a betrayal of the very values her audience once sought within her pages. It’s tragic! To say the very least.
JH

 
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Posted by on September 29, 2025 in Ranting

 

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Autumn is here

The air grows cool with whispers low
As leaves drift down in a golden flow
The trees wear crowns of russet and flame
Each day arrives yet never the same

A hush of smoke curls from distant fires
The dusk draws near with tender desires
Crisp apples gleam in the orchard light
And owls awaken to sing through the night

The earth now rests in a slower song
The season knows where hearts belong
In fields of bronze and skies of grey
Autumn invites us to linger and stay

JH

 
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Posted by on September 24, 2025 in poetry

 

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I Am / I’m Not


I am a voice that listens,
a heart that leans forward,
a soft light in the corner of the room.


I’m not the door that slams,
not the echo of anger
that bruises the air.


I am a hand reaching out,
a thread tying strangers
to the same bright sky.


I’m not the scissors of cruelty,
not the knife of silence
that cuts connection in two.


I am curiosity,
the spark that asks why
and keeps asking.


I’m not the wall that blocks,
not the heavy lock
on imagination’s gate.


I am a messy, learning. human
a traveller carrying both shadows and suns.
I’m not perfect,


but I’m not done,
and I won’t be done
until love has the final word.
JH

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2025 in poetry

 

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Letting Go

There’s a moment in the hush between heartbeats,
When holding on becomes heavier than hope
and in that silence,
you learn the art of release.
You untie the knots you tied in stormy weather,
loosen your grip on ghosts in the mirror,
and find that your hands
though empty
are free.
The past does not apologise,
nor promise not to sting.
But you,
gentle and fierce,
choose peace over proof,
flight over fear.
You are not the branch that broke,
you are the wind that moved on.
Not the anchor rusting below,
but the tide that still sings to the moon.
So let go,
not in weakness
but in wild, sacred strength.
Let go like dusk lets go of the sun,
trusting it will rise again.
JH

 
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Posted by on July 14, 2025 in poetry

 

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