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The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Rules the World by William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)

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Blessings on the hand of women!  Angels guard its strength and grace. In the palace, cottage, hovel,  Oh, no matter where the place; Would that never storms assailed it,  Rainbows ever gently curled,  For the hand that rocks the cradle  Is the hand that rules the world.  Infancy's the tender fountain,  Power may with beauty flow,  Mothers first to guide the streamlets,  From them souls unresting grow —  Grow on for the good or evil,  Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,  For the hand that rocks the cradle  Is the hand that rules the world.  Woman, how divine your mission,  Here upon our natal sod;  Keep – oh, keep the young heart open  Always to the breath of God!  All true trophies of the ages  Are from mother-love impearled,  For the hand that rocks the cradle  Is the hand that rules the world.  Blessings on the hand of women!  Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,  And the...
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SMSEX

You know that guy or that babe, the one you are angling for but cannot, should never, ever even look at. She is hot, absolutely sexy but she is your best mate's gal. Or that guy who is going out, worst still married to, your gf. You both know that you can never get together but moments come up and you get to flirt, telling each other the most outrageuous, daring sexy thoughts ever and it goes something like this:- “Show me yours. I’ll show you mine,” he says. “Do you want to see only or do you want to touch?” she asks “Touch”, he says. “Everywhere. Your breasts, cup them in my hands, feel your nipples slowly respond. I kiss you deeply and feel your naked body press against me, a sense of urgency building up as we try and prolong the moment. My hand is leaving your breast and inching downwards, taking in your soft, brown skin as it seeks out your secret pleasure.........” “Ooooh!” She moans and whispers, “Am flushed hot, all over my body. And I can feel wetness trickle down the...
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TIME MARCHES ON

Earlier this month, 9th July to be precise I shared this note on Facebook. Time really does march on. The sun rises and sets each day effortlessly it seems, yet joy and pain require more effort to work with. Each is a little better than the last though. For that, I am grateful. It's exactly a year later; almost to the hour when I got the news that my big brother, Chanjo was no more. I remember how the calming words of the Psalmist floated and I wrote down, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me" and little did I know that at that moment my brother took his last breath. I still miss him, his funny stories, his easy way of taking life in his stride, no matter what he brought his way, his endless love for his boys and dedication to each one of his siblings. Today was made difficult because of memories and realization that you cannot turn back the hands of time. When time has ...
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