This is my writing station, my morning meditation and prayer closet. Nothing like a few minutes alone each morning. There is something quietening about rising early and sitting down with a cup of coffee in my hand.

The house is silent with only the sounds of peaceful repose wrapping themselves around me. Restfulness seeps into my soul as I sit there in the coolness of the day and greyness of the dawn. Its then I soar into the heavenlies on wings of the morning.

A new insight, a strengthening and a birthing happen – artefacts of the heart and mind!

*I just published my first book and released it online. It is an artefact of the morning!
Point to note: Our FF leader Rochelle has written a recommendation for it!

TEACH US TO PRAY: Decoding the Lord’s Prayer!
*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © ROCHELLE WISOFF-FIELDS


This stream that provided water for the house was our summer haunt.

Our every waking moment would be spent in the water. Our parents were relieved that we were out of their hair the whole day.

The only time they would get to see us was during meals. They knew we were safe here, without disturbing or being disturbed!

We would hurtle down the stone steps, in a hurry to get to the water. A great place to have fun while being cooled!

All gone now, with the grandparents, buried in dirt & decay. Its a good thing we are selling!

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s photo prompt © Karen Rawson



Dolon peered over the edge, antennae quivering in the wind of many murmurings.

“We can’t allow her to do this? How dare she marry that, that, that..

“That outcast! How dare he presume to touch her!”

“Calm down. Don’t react openly. We can rectify this.”

“Yes. Let’s agree now. We will invite him home. Then…”

“Shhhh! Even walls can have ears.”

Cautioning each other, they moved on, falsity plastered on their faces.

“We agree. Let’s do what you say. We are willing.”

They rose, with smiling miens and departed.

Dolon fluttered away. He had heard enough.

His intelligence would help prevent.

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt, every week. Thanks for this week’s beautiful photo prompt  © Shaktiki Sharma

*Dolon is a Latin American name meaning a trojan spy!




 Prayer of Anonymous Abbess:

Lord, thou knowest better than myself that I am growing older and will soon be old. Keep me from becoming too talkative, and especially from the unfortunate habit of thinking that I must say something on every subject and at every opportunity.

Release me from the idea that I must straighten out other peoples’ affairs. With my immense treasure of experience and wisdom, it seems a pity not to let everybody partake of it. But thou knowest, Lord, that in the end I will need a few friends.

Keep me from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Grant me the patience to listen to the complaints of others; help me to endure them with charity. But seal my lips on my own aches and pains — they increase with the increasing years and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.

I will not ask thee for improved memory, only for a little more humility and less self-assurance when my own memory doesn’t agree with that of others.Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Keep me reasonably gentle. I do not have the ambition to become a saint — it is so hard to live with some of them — but a harsh old person is one of the devil’s masterpieces.

Make me sympathetic without being sentimental, helpful but not bossy. Let me discover merits where I had not expected them, and talents in people whom I had not thought to possess any. And, Lord, give me the grace to tell them so.


Margot Benary-Isbert

German-born children’s author known for her “depictions of humane, realistic characters.”

Benary-Isbert attended the College St. Carolus and the University of Frankfurt. She worked as a secretary at the Museum of Ethnology and Anthropology in Frankfurt, Germany from 1910-1917, when she married Wilhelm Benary. They settled in Erfurt, in East Germany. 

When the Russians took over Germany, she fled to the apartment of a friend in West Germany. In 1948 she wrote Die Arche Noah (The Ark). In 1953 it received a first prize at the New York Herald Tribune’s Spring Book Festival. Post-war Germany became a common theme in most of her works.

In 1952 she moved to the United States, where she was naturalized in 1957 and worked as a writer until her death. She received the Jane Addams Children’s Book Award from the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom in 1957 for “Annegret und Cara”.

Most of Benary-Isbert’s books were originally written and published in German; some were later translated into English and published again.