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August Four Of Twenty Fourteen – Promote Yourself


It’s August of Twenty Fourteen
And the Rhythm of TwentyFour
Keeping my Heart aside
When I am flying from my country via Heathrow
From last Morning to next Evening
I will be Running To and Fro
For my Duties and The Command
That pushed me ahead of the rows
For next many months
I will be nothing myself
But the Officer of the watch
Playing the dream roles
When life is on noon
Crescent passed Moon
Keeping all those charms at rest
Making a White Collar move..
With the Seaman’s heart
Lets fuel the ships over highseas
Together & all alone..
For never ending sea Romance
Its time to work..
Let’s do something better…
Let’s do it some More…
By Atul Shukla

Key to Happiness – Promote Yourself


“We have keys to the locked doors of our happiness,

Stop counting on others for your happiness.

Never expect anything from another person,

In the end it will be you who will be hurt, not the opposite person!

A key to the happiness lies within ourselves,

So expect only from ourselves.

Though we may fail at times, but at least we won’t blame others for our unhappiness.”

Happiness arrives from what we do ,

It arrives from good deeds done by you.

Always live in the present, forget the past,

Learn the art to forgive, for happiness lies in it.

Be happy and let others be happy.”


Heta Gala

The link:

The long mile – Promote Yourself

I walked the long mile under a darkening sky
The sun a warm glow to the west
With my toes in the water of a cool lapping sea
A smile at nature’s behest
The sand, smooth and rippled from an undertow’s pull
Revealed its rich treasure trove
Shells and small pebbles and other such things
Abandoned by the sea’s ebbing flow
The driftwood now sanded and caressed by the sea
Like flotsam on the high tide line
Finds its way in the twilight to my gathering now
Like diamonds, it’s glory, sublime
I walked the long mile as the day turned to night
And the people hid behind their closed doors
Alone with my feelings, I whispered a smile
At one with the sea on the shore
It is my solace, my strength, my enrichment, my gain
Though a soliloquy oft to deaf ears
It is my friend, the long mile, my treasure indeed
As it has been throughout all my years

A Gesture In Jest – Promote Yourself

Embracing although it scares me
Be aware and take no caution I won’t be weary
Maybe merely what’s scary is what fears me

My death is mine
Something only I can die
So if I’m feeling some sort of Hemming-way or on a Monday morning
A little under the weather or Spalding Grey
And the Robin’s willing to fly away
I too shall find my way

I may let it all cascade
We will die alone
In this palace made of burning souls
Bathe our corpses in molten gold
Buried once again into the fold

Hurrying to our only home.


Name: Ndabenhle ‘Siegfried’. S. Mthembu

Bio: I am an undergraduate student at the University of Pretoria. I am majoring in Psychology and Philosophy. I have plans to do work in all art forms but without being a jack of all trades I am primarily a writer from poetry, novels, screenplays, short stories and various other forms. A Surreal Romanticist Absurdist Existentialist Meta-Artistry and Post Modernism.

Location: South Africa


No longer by a no longer – Promote Yourself


Only if they could understand

The chant that washed away

Our sorrows

Which defeaned their…. “to a limit(ed)” ears

Only if they could understand

How alive and inviting to us, – it were.

When I think of you, I wish I could just shut down.

Some duo’s are duos for a reason, only God knows!

Elite souls

As some longed and struggled,

To understand your inner mystery.

I (un)lawfully trespassed

The “no-go for mortals zone.”

Jockeying for a crown equivalent to your soul

Unknowingly rebelling the normal camp codes

Automatically qualifying for our “elite souls.”

In You, I will always believe!

Mandla Malandela

Electric Tempt – Promote Yourself


You say my name in italics

I wear your fingertips on my hips

My lips

Electric tempt

It’s one last desperate bid

To redeem myself

A poorly fabricated lie

Your eyes keep taking off what I’m wearing

Disposable friends

Reading the freckles on your chest like Braille

Trying to find love

Under the sheets

You’re a show pony for the internet

Charmaine Cheng

Us and them

You’re a show pony for the internet

Swallowed glass and don’t want to cough it out

For fear of shredding your voice box

Please the cynics

The loneliest girl at the bar

Painting by numbers

Is your seat belt buckled?

Tray table locked

Seat in upright position

Ghost ships and

Dead man’s castanets

Charmaine Cheng

A little bit of background information about myself – my name is Charmaine, Chay for short. I’m an architectural technology student and barista in Toronto, Canada. I try to exercise my creative muscles as much as I can, so I’ve started a blog of my own,, so that I could create/curate something every day. I love to read, write and design, and please feel free to drop me a line on my blog! I’d be tickled pink to meet y’all and read your work.


P.S. Thanks for running such a great site!

Nature’s Song – Promote Yourself

I waken you with rays of sun
I sing you to sleep with peaceful melodies
Rain tapping gently on your roof
Warmth of light like a mother’s love
Green blades of grass, softly caress your naked feet
My dark earth between your toes, cool and fleshy
Colors of blue, hazel, and red
Jade, coral, rusts, and the like
My splendor and glory nurture and deprive
For at once I may erupt in anger or rock you in the sweet by and by
Thunder, lightning, renew and regenerate
Sun, moon, stars, guide and give light and vitality
Life would but end should I cease to exist
For it is I who bring you peaceful animation and spirit
So be still and calm yourself for I am here to protect
Be ever respectful for I can also neglect

Kara Spain

Writer – Promote Yourself

Now he writes
Lathering papyrus canvasses with delicate ink
Expressing nothing but a gallery of words
For those who lend an eye, an ear and a mind
Those passing by and those who wish to return
The guilty bystanders
Here and there

He lavishes and emotes his ideal ejaculations from within
And oh that harlot and dear
With she he shares
For now she writes
they lay naked and nude
Laying waste to each page
Real and unreal
Sureal in hyperreality
In the unending intoxication that is the creative process

They are unshackled and bound and anew with boundless chains
That create more stains upon each line
Their stage is found
Never a block in mind and if it were to be a block it would no block at all

For if there were no lines and are unbound once more as they cross another boundary
All blocks are but a bit of blank slate for what is to come
For the harlot like a harbinger will leave her nest and soar
For truly she shall never be bound certainly in her utmost uncertainty
She’ll return his
And return to hers
For that is her nest
She’ll bring unrest to the restless
So in that deep sleep they may dream again.

Name: Ndabenhle ‘Siegfried’. S. Mthembu

Bio: I am an undergraduate student at the University of Pretoria. I am majoring in Psychology and Philosophy. I have plans to do work in all art forms but without being a jack of all trades I am primarily a writer from poetry, novels, screenplays, short stories and various other forms. A Surreal Romanticist Absurdist Existentialist Meta-Artistry and Post Modernism.

Location: South Africa

I Teach



August smiles,

brilliant fall colours

give pastel accents

to carve a path home.


Aging, beauty

to present a state of mind

delightful, happy,

invigorates our energy.


For now

reflection is immediate

only a moment’s glance

suggests sweet shelter.


Doors will open

anticipation screams through

the distant halls

recalled, fresh, familiar.


new faces, elders,

mindsets triggered

by ‘best practices;’

a ‘carpe diem’ … pause.


The reality is

as maples, oaks, poplars


bold as our children.


We teachers delve,

avenues of knowledge,

not only selfish pride

yet, guidance with love.


Drop quiet in our eyes,

share stories, similar grasp,

capture our mood,

enhance our last …


As the autumn leaves, our time

moves forward; imagine new fires.


© Thom Amundsen

The Color of ME – promote Yourself


I am a conundrum of color

an aura scattered – patterns infused -

Tinting the simplicity of me.

Therein the mystery lies;

a vision, or an apparition that twists within the

boundless possibilities of me.

I am a continuum of shades that transform

And create, all the while

My hues tinge the compassion of me.

My color is love.

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved

Welcome to Silver Threading, my lifestyle blog.  A couple of years ago I went back to college and embraced online learning.  So much in fact, I decided that when I did not have to work anymore I was going to write a blog about the things I enjoy the most in life.  You know, the important things like reading, writing, gardening, crocheting old fashioned doilies into works of art, crafting, baking and drinking wine.

Thank you for the opportunity to become part of your community of poets and writers.  I attached the jpeg that I displayed with the poem.  Best Regards, Colleen Chesebro

Salix Babylonica – Promote Yourself

Willows flutter in an icy breeze—
Hop and light with seamless ease.
Green, toothed leaves wave goodbye.
Long, white veins—in trance—are spied.
Purity makes most seem a lie.

Stirred dirt hues break the gaze—
Deeply furrowed (where secrets stay).
Ridges grow out, then jaggedly stop
Like urges… mercifully lopped
From our hands: truth that hops

When passion plods too close.
Neither an eccentric alchemist’s dose
Or religious speak (pink-white knees
From devoted stasis) show these
Forceful energies like Nature’s trees.

Bare, pale skin incessantly bumps
Under strange thunder thumps…
And a chilled, Autumn wind. Aural
Melodies, with foliage and floral
Rustling, colors immense murals

Behind shut lids. Forlorn willow,
From distant China, shelters my pillow
Of cold, green grass. It gently veils
Yellow yearnings, as green twigs flail,
And life’s struggle swiftly derails.

Willows flutter in an icy breeze—
I relax and settle with seamless ease.

“Love will keep us together” – Promote Yourself


” The old man and his old wife,

Sitting on a  veranda  and reminiscing the whole journey of their life.

Holding each other’s hand tight,

Guffawing on every moment of their intense love and naughty fights.

Suddenly tears roll down her cheeks,

Kissing his hand and looking into his eyes, she speaks;

“I have been waiting for this idyllic moment for all these years,

When you were busy in doing your job and I, taking care of our family, for all those years.”

He kisses her rolling tears,

And whispers “I Love you” in her ear.

Listening to this, she smiles,

And “I Love you more”, she replies.

“Honey, but I have a question to ask,
 We took care of our only child,

 Now he has left us alone and is busy with his new life.

 When he needed us, we were there by   his side,

 Today when we need his support, 
he chose to keep us aside. “

 Seeing her worried, he  held her close,

 “Darling, stay happy and enjoy the remaining life. 

 Remember, Life is like a rolling wheel,

 The wheel will keep on turning round and round,

  It will never stop and stand still.

  Till the day I am alive, 

  You don’t need to worry, I am there for you,

  And you, for me, the precious treasure of my life.”

  She smiles and lay her head on his shoulder,

 “I trust you more than anyone my dear,

  Till the time we are together, I have no more fear.””

                 -HETA GALA

Things I like

Crimson kisses

Seashell whispers

Shy hello’s to French fellows

Soft and luscious marshmallows

Deep red roses

Babies noses,

Large rolling sea waves

Mysterious beach caves,

Deep purple crushed velvet

Treasures that I have kept,

Red and brown autumn leaves

Sweet memories of sweet dreams,

children’s laughter while they play

Meeting dawn, a brand new day,

Daffodils in the spring

All the pleasures that summer can bring,

Warm sweet mulled wine

The season of Christmas time,

Making strawberry jam

The beautiful sight of a new-born lamb,

Finding words for poetry

Sitting quietly with a cup of tea,

Walking the sands in my bare feet

Enjoying the ultimate barbecue feast,

Seeing the wonderful sights of the coast

Eating a lovely Sunday roast,

Watching the ducks swim and bathe

The aroma of freshly baked bread

Cascades of colour from fireworks

Up with the lark feeling alert

Seeing the stars in the sky at night

These are all the things I like

By Gillian Sims

Where Do Babies Come From?


Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs’ wings.

How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.

But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here

~George MacDonald

The grey cloud did cover


Everybody’s trying each other out
Spring lifts the hope of a tout
He acts the part
No belief in gain, but some fresh start
Perhaps a shout louder
And day seems to cheapen around her
Lifting the eyes of the tout
Tired, old guy out
She plays his heart
Doubt no part her life’s art
Perhaps her head might fit his shoulder
Thoughts for when older
Though, his eyes, they go out
A tied, old tried out
No time for this tart
Job description third part
A numb shout of his brother
The grey cloud did cover.
By John Fox


The ring that he gave her was only nine carat gold,
For that was all that he could afford,
But to them both it was only a symbol of their love,
For she was the one he loved and adored.
If he could he would have done better,
Would have given her ring that was diamond encrusted,
For she was the true love of his life,
She was the one that he really trusted.
As they grew older he gradually became richer,
Then he offered to buy her a twenty-two carat gold ring,
She said she preferred to keep the one on her finger,
For to her that ring meant everything.
A twenty-two carat gold ring would be of more value,
But these was no way that it would ever be the same,
The ring reminded them of the vows they had made,
On the day he had given her his name.
He had put on her finger the day they were married,
It had been a most wonderful day,
That ring had been a symbol of their undying love,
And on her finger it would always stay.
Ron Martin

Glossy Comforts – Promote Yourself

(When we wish things would just go right,
without having to do the work,
or wait on time,
which is often painful,
written after reading glossy comforts
seen in garden centres
to make money.)

Wave a magic wand
A click of fingers
Make it go away
A wriggle of the nose
A muttered wish
A bargain prayer
A glib feel good verse
House of cards
Built on the sand
On the flood plain
On the fault line.
A wind blows…

Cheryl Bhagwandin


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