Maggie Watson's Blog, page 19

Cliff Edges

(Written October 2024)

Instead of building bridges, we skirt around
edges while nothing flows.
Those barricades we erected to survive
have become a prison inside our minds.
We were never born to exist.
And there’s the rub.
To live is sometimes to risk.
To risk being rejected, thwarted or failing.
Why try when we can do nothing?
Life is a breeze with no one to please
except ourselves.
I have failed more times than most, and I
have screwed up in the highest degree, but if I
ever fail to try, I am being untrue to myself.
Untrue to my mother, who went through hell to
deliver me into this world.
Sitting on cliff edges is only for those
who have given up on life.

Copyright © 2024 Ephemeral Encounters
All Rights Reserved

The comments issue is still ongoing (that is a week now)Added to that , my oven nearly went on fire last night, so now I need to replace it!This too shall pass, hopefully!

Frustrated

I have often seen people posting about WP glitches on here, I can honestly say I have never experienced, UNTIL NOW.

Since last week no coments are showing up on Jetpack or WordPress App .

i get an email telling me I have a comnent or someone has to replied to one, but there is nothing there (only a few stragglers)

Thus, to reply I have to go between my mail app and here which is very time consuming

Any remedies or hints as to wth is up would be grateful.

On the Pages

(written October 2024)

On cobbled streets, I silently roam,
blending into the stones.
I am a silhouette, a shadow of Twilight’s embrace,
never held by anyone’s gaze.
Of me, you will find no trace.
Within bricks, I mould myself between foundations.
I am a silhouette and a ghost.
With a wisp of air, I disappear, never viewed by anyone
eyes.
In the shadows, I travel, leaving an invisible thread.
You can seek me here or there.
You will not find me.
Only on the pages of books, where I die
as I bleed my ink.

Copyright © 2024 Ephemeral Encounters
All Rights Reserved

Illuminate

(written October 2024)

When the full moon comes to illuminate our
shadows, ghosts of the past will rise.
From tombs of memories, they will emerge,
uncovering coffins of old wounds.
As they scratch at the earth, you will hurt and bleed.
Let them rise.
All things must die.
What we keep hidden is still alive,
renting a space in your head, feeding off every emotion.
Remove the shrouds from your pain.
Within the power of Luna’s glow, we must surrender
There is nowhere to run.
Parts of ourselves must die,
before we are reborn into the light.

Copyright © 2024 Ephemeral Encounters
All Rights Reserved

Selma Martin’s Review of “Pieces of Me”

I am over the moon and beyond grateful to Selma for this wonderful review on Amazon and Goodreads.

Selma’s Review

This author was “mentally abused by gaslighting ( a term I was not familiar with back then). Gaslighting is an insidious, drip-drip erosion of your spirit until there is nothing left of you.” That’s the first thing I wish to tell you about this emotive poetry collection…

Maggie Watson’s Pieces Of Me is “poetry written by a woman who has had many life struggles.”

And all she asks of me is “Take what you need from these poems, and know that there is, always hope!”

In the AFTERWORD of Pieces of Me, the author adds:

Sages across the ages have written lines on pages, whilst preachers have recited words from the bible. Paragraphs of advice on how to become wise. You can slice and dice each text or extract the juice from the flesh. No book on earth will prepare you for this thing called life. To learn is to absorb the pain. In those moments when it hurts the most with the weight of the world on your shoulders, wisdom you will gain.”

Maggie Wilson’s poetry is without artifice. It’s raw and bruised like the author says in Bruised Apples — “bruised./ Should I be considered toxic because I choose not to cover/ my wounds?/ Of course, I could apply gauze to cover my flaws./ That would be far more appealing. / I am healing, peeling back the layers of pain./ If you see my scars as unsightly, then avert your gaze.”//

And, in the prologue, “Poetry is not always pretty. / Sometimes, it is angry and raw.”

I practically highlighted the whole book, keen on sharing many lines with you. But I can’t do that. Instead, I’ll ask that you consider purchasing the book and add to your knowledge of what gaslighting ‘feels like.’ Like the author herself, I was not aware there was a word for this kind of abuse.

And I agree,

Please visit Amazon for the full post!

Thanks again to everyone who shared the link prior to launch and to anyone who has bought a copy.

Random Musings

Why my mother married a Scotsman I will never know (cos he was a sailor and handsome I guess)

I would gladly have lived out my days in South Africa, but nope, we arrived here in Bonnie Scotland

I can handle the cold weather, but the grey skies and day long rain is not good for your health.

Well today the sun was blazing down at the River Esk so I took these pics and the flowers I bought for myself.

Cauliflowers I have never seen these before, but they look good in my kitchen

*A wee heads up for thursday its a big one!

Expect some turbulence

Babbling Brook

First attempt at a limerick!

I mentioned to Lauren Scott that I had written a limerick, so I am posting it.

You know me, I usually go with deep and philosophical (lol)

I woke up to a wonderful review of my new collection “Pieces of Me” from Selma Martin ( I will reblog later)

Thank you so much Selma you made my day/week!

(Unsplash Image by Annie Spratt)

I mistook a babbling brook for a puddle.

Now, I am in an awful muddle.

Up to my neck in deep water.

I have morphed into an otter.

I knew I should have packed my snorkel.

Trust

(written October 2024)

Hands touching across a bridge to connect,
reaching beyond the threads,
with courage to be brave.
To see beyond our range of vision
into the depths of our soul’s calling.
Threads placed long ago frayed.
We lost our way, stayed too long in
the same place
while sitting on cliff edges instead
of listening to our soul’s cry.
When truth speaks without expectation,
we must leap into the void.
Regret is a bitter pill to swallow
Deception is what we perceive as hidden.
Within disconnection, allow your intuition
to speak louder than any noise while
placing trust in its voice.

Copyright © 2024 Ephemeral Encounters
All Rights Reserved

Please Advise

A friend of mine bought my new collection of poetry from Amazon.

When she tried to leave a review, Amazon said her account did not fit the criteria to leave a review.

I encountered the same problem when I tried to leave reviews for Robbie and Lauren ( even though I have posted reviews in the past)

We all know reviews are so important.

Has anyone encountered this problem?

Who do you contact?

There only seems to be a chat option.

Most irritating to say the least.

Between that and the algorithms on social media , the little people really have no chance .

Wastelands

Thank you Dagmara at Spillwords for publishing my poem.

Wastelands