Blog Archives - FordeFables

October 31st, 2017.

31/10/2017

Thought for today:
"Given the will, one will usually find the way. Life is too short a time to spend shell-shocked, with a head full of troubled thoughts and a heart lacking in courage. One must move on from past regrets, get rid of the emotional baggage we have carried around for far too long and go in search of a new cabbage patch!

As Mark Twain wrote in 'The American Claimant',' Drag your thoughts away from your troubles, by the ears, by the heels or by any other way so that you can manage it; it's the healthiest thing a body can do.'

During my many years of running groups, helping emotional disturbance, teaching relaxation methods and problem-solving in Probation Offices, Prisons, Hostels, Hospitals, Psychiatric Units, Schools, Educational Establishments and Community Halls, I always relied on some programme content which dealt with effective ways of 'emotional distancing.' I quickly learned as a worker that until a person with a problem to solve can become the person operating the camera and taking the picture instead of the one being photographed, very little is likely to be achieved long term.

Without going into the many techniques and methods one can usefully employ, I would place the distancing of oneself from the original thoughts and emotions that surrounded 'the problem' to be essential in resolving it. Note that this doesn't imply running away from it, but simply standing back and getting a new perspective on the unresolved situation. This is the best way I know of taking a breather, enabling one to put sufficient time and space between our old thoughts that got us in trouble in the first place and the kind of thoughts and thinking that are most likely to get us out of trouble now!

I'm with you, Mark; upwards and onward, or should that be you sometimes need to take one step back in order to take two steps forward!" William Forde: October 31st, 2017.

October 30th, 2017.

30/10/2017

Thought for today:
"There is a happiness to be found in each of us that has its winter and its summer, its autumn and its spring. Allow your nature to take you along your year of destiny into the arms of angel's wing.

If you have a dream, also have the courage to follow it, and the heart and staying power to see it come to fruition; for dreams fall not into the laps of idle minds who know not the purpose of their day nor have the vision to look beyond the moment into tomorrow's hope.

Should you come across your soul mate on life's travels, the one you first met in a dream, hold her forever close in your affection and find the poetry in your heart to tell her that your feelings for her will never die; nor will your love for her dare ask why, you both were meant to be: two halves that met one winter's morn and made one whole, to live today, tomorrow, every dawn, in body mind and soul as one true love in harmony." William Forde: October 30th, 2017.

October 29th, 2017.

29/10/2017

'Let Me' by William Forde : Copyright October 29th, 2017.

'Let me whisper in your ear and hear the echo of your soul.
To merge my pulse within your heart, so you forever hear the beat of mine.
Let me move your senses to distraction; your desires to the edge of reason.
To steer full force of passion towards temptation when you lie in my presence.
Let my want possess a madness of mind which alone can satisfy unquenchable thirst.
To drink from body's hollow and eat the apple from your unharvested tree of love.

Let me love you with all my heart, and if in return, your love expressed can never be as much as mine for you, let the more loving one be me.
Let me.'

William Forde: October 29th, 2017.

October 28th, 2017

28/10/2017

Thought for today:
"When you think about it, life is a conundrum of strange facts and mysterious meanings; where all virtue is a paradox and the power to transform bad to good and good to bad is vested in mankind's truth and the devil's temptation. For example, since the days of Adam and Eve, many a bad woman has been able to turn a good man bad, but it is only a good woman that possesses the power to turn a bad man good, or is it?

During my twenty-five years working as a Probation Officer in the West Yorkshire Service, I encountered many a man whose pattern of repeat offending was so entrenched and where the number of prison sentences served by him could not be counted on one hand. Whenever I met such a man, my heart sank because I knew that the likelihood of him ever being rehabilitated was less than the comedian Jo Brand refusing the offer of a big fat cream cake after a six-week period of enforced starvation!

And yet, during my probation officer career, I was to witness a transformation of such magnitude on a number of occasions which I knew that only divine intervention could bring about. On each and every occasion, the man's savior came in the form of 'love'; whether it be the love of Christ discovered in the corner of a prison cell during the depths of despair by a reborn Christian or a love found in the arms of a new woman in one's life that provided meaning and motivation to change; or the introduction of new life and hope that only the birth and love of a child can bring.

I would like to report that it was the love of Christ that seemed to bring about the miraculous transformation in most recidivists most often but would have to honestly say that on the surface, the love of Christ usually ran a poor second to that of the love of a good woman. Could it be that the Adam and Eve conundrum was present at the start of time and will be there at its end?" William Forde: October 28th, 2017.

October 27th, 2017.

27/10/2017

"Thought for today:
"Having visited over two thousand Yorkshire schools between 1990 and 2005, the one thing that struck me the most was the discrimination faced by girl pupils to that of boys; a discrimination, I would add, that was often reinforced and buttressed by their teachers, both male and female, knowingly and unknowingly. Even today in 2017, we still live in a largely man-made world where parity between the sexes hasn't yet been reached.

I often feel that women have a harder time in life living the roles that they adopt and those ascribed to them by their male counterparts. As the bearer of children, females carry an enormous responsibility for both the advancement or decline of civilisation; the birth of future generations is in their hands (or should that be belly?)

In an ideal world, girls would be provided with every available opportunity to grow naturally from childhood into the responsibilities of adult, lover, wife and motherhood and yet, far too often before their minds and bodies are ready for it, they miss out large sections of their youth and have to abandon their dolls and childhood dreams to more adult chores of life. Even before they have barely reached the stage of puberty, girls experience male pressures to be sexualised into 'baby dolls' and 'bunny girls' for no other reason than to gratify man's urges and sensual pleasures. To resist such pressure is often to stand out as being labelled 'odd' to the other girls as opposed to the more accurate description as being 'different'.

Next comes boyfriends, babies and marriage; usually in that order and rarely as the result of any planned execution. In times of economic depression, there is too often no job to work at, no place to live that can be called home and insufficient nourishing food to eat. With a child/children sometimes younger than three or four to daily care for, the only jobs that are readily obtainable and will put bread on the table is the part-time occupation that the woman can obtain on minimum wages, working the most inconvenient of hours while someone else cares for their child.

Not surprisingly, years of accumulated stress that accompanies such a life exacts the inevitable price of advanced ageing, robbing the woman of her previous good looks and fetching mannerisms. Such change often prompts the husband to turn his eyes elsewhere. He tells her that 'because she has let herself go' she cannot be bothered about their marriage and their relationship, so he too 'lets her go' and invariably runs off with the younger woman who amazingly still exhibits the urge to live life to the full and with a body to die for.

In this grossly, unfair society of ours, which is still predominantly male run, I see too many females who have never experienced the privilege of mastering one role in their life before they've had another thrust upon them. I know too many women who still have too much of the little girl inside them because they were rushed out of childhood years before their time; I see too many mothers whose overbearing level of responsibility prevents them ever discovering the individual they were meant to be and know of too many wives who would have been happier to have mothered one or two children instead of the four or five they gave birth to and the immature husband they found themselves saddled with.

With such confusion of roles and the 'guilt' that women are encouraged to take on board when they are physically unable to carry out all these responsibilities competently, it is hardly surprising that finding one's 'individuality' for a heavily pressurised, pregnant, overworked and over-managed woman in today's world is harder than grabbing a hole in the centre of a doughnut. Given the choice of one's sex at birth, no way would I choose to be born female in this man-made-world!" William Forde: October 27th, 2017

October 26th, 2017.

26/10/2017

October 26nd, 2017.
Thought for today:
"Many years ago after my first two children James and Adam were born, I experienced an event that was to radically change my attitude towards personal possessions and personal feelings. Often on a weekend, I would take my three and five-year-old sons to visit the home of a widowed work colleague called Brenda in Huddersfield or a spinster work colleague in Dewsbury called Joyce.

During one such visit, one of my boisterous children knocked an ornament off Joyce's side table. I apologised profusely as I knew the ornament was a precious family heirloom. Upon seeing her ceramic figure broken in pieces on the floor, a look of instant disappointment and annoyance crossed Joyce's face. This look, however, was instantly followed by Joyce's huge smile, the adoption of a gentle and reassuring voice, and giving my son in question a big hug. I apologised again to which Joyce replied, 'Please don't concern yourself, Bill. No ornament, whatever its cost or significance is worth the pain or slight discomfort of a child.' I have never forgotten that lesson.

I must admit to liking things of antiquity in my house, especially paintings that are pleasing to the eye. Being often confined to my house when my absence of immune system leads to me being ill, I find it comforting to be surrounded by pleasing scenes. Our weekly cleaner, Jane, is always wary when dusting, in case she accidentally breaks an object but is now, at last, reassured that they are 'things' in my eyes and can never mean more to me than her hurt feelings. The same applies to child visitors and their parents in the event of an accident occurring. Should a breakage occur today, I instantly recall those wise words of Joyce, that even precious artefacts can never bring as much pleasure to one's eyes as the smile of a happy and healthy child. So as far as the things I own go, 'if it pains too much to experience them broken in an accident, then better they are not part of my possessions at all', has been my motto for many years.

Being a spinster of her time, Joyce never gave birth to children, but by God, she understood them far better than I ever would!That wasn't the only thing that I'll remember Joyce for. There were few occasions when I heard Joyce use her choice swear words, but when she did, the look on her face would signify her profound anger. Unlike all the rest of her colleagues, however, her swear words did not resemble the consonants found in the 'bloody hell,' 'Shit!' or 'F... it!' they might utter, but in her expression of 'Rats!Rats!Rats!'

As someone who specialised in Behaviour Modification Methods, I recognised that where the strength of expressed anger is being assessed, it isn't the words uttered by the angry person that really matters, but the nature and strength of the emotion that is attached to it! I knew that in the world of Joyce's emotions that her 'Rats!Rats! Rats!' meant, 'F... it!F... it!F... it!'

I am so grateful to Joyce for having taught me these vital lessons of life and especially the undeniable truth that no price can ever be placed upon the hurt feeling of an individual nor any amount of wealth purchase the comfort of a friendly visitor to your home. I would sooner break a Ming vase or some other valuable artefact than break the wings of a butterfly or stir hurt and guilt in an innocent child or bring a tear to their eye." William Forde: October 26, 2017.

October 25th, 2017

25/10/2017

Thought for today:
"Whereas teaching, training and instruction do much, encouragement is everything!

I grew up loving all manner of song which I daily heard from the family wireless, and by the age of 10 years, I was the best singer in my school and had won a number of prizes. Gradually, dance came into my life as a means of legitimately putting my arms around a pretty girl's waist without getting my face slapped for insolence. I also became highly proficient at walking the floor and also won two medals for old time dancing by the age of 11 years.

Being born the eldest of seven children during the 'Second World War' years, there were no such luxuries in the 1940's and 50's of having musical instruments or musical lessons at either home or school. Indeed, the only instrument I ever learned to play was a mouth organ that my uncle gave me when I was laid up in hospital for nine months following a serious traffic accident just before my 12th birthday. My nine months in hospital did enable me to learn to play 'Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White', but that, unfortunately, was the full extent of my repertoire.

I was in my middle twenties before I was introduced to the magical sound of classical music. It is a love of mine that has grown with the passing of every year. The two instruments I do love to hear are undoubtedly the piano and violin; either of which I would have given my left arm to have learned to play. Instead of being able to play a note myself, I've been confined to listening to the finest musicians in the world coax and bring forth the sounds of heaven from these angelic strings with the organic extension of their hands. Indeed, whenever I see a violinist stroke their Stradivarius with graceful and loving touch, my mind is instantly transported back to my childhood dancing days with my arms around the waist of the best looking ten-year-old girl on the dance floor.

I now know that liking something is of itself insufficient to make one do it well; neither is deep appreciation enough to lead one to do something about it. One has to be warmed by ambition to become better at it and be driven through the fires of burning desire to become the best. And even that can be insufficient unless one has the encouragement at their back, forever willing them on to practise! practise! practise!

The greatest of responsibilities with parents today is to persuade their children to pursue their dreams and to be inspired by the things they love. These are important things to encourage, along with having open minds to try things new and to go that extra step when they discover a talent that is worthy of developing. Parents today would do well to remind themselves they are the chief influential forces in their children's lives; the ones who are there to encourage the promotion of natural talent and the development of a confident and proficient self.

I never took piano or violin lessons, but I know deep down that with a bit of the right encouragement and the proper teacher to instruct me, I would have jumped at the opportunity. There is simply no way that any growing boy cannot be enticed and encouraged into a greater sense of cultural understanding.

And should it happen that all the instruction and encouragement in the world from the one who loves you most is still not enough to bring forth sweet song, deft dancing and perfect instrumental play, then, as my dear mother used to advise, 'Be no less of the good person that God intended you to be and learn to love and share what you have; learn to be the reason that someone smiles today.'" William Forde: October 25th, 2017.

October 24th, 2017.

24/10/2017

Thought for today:
"A few days ago, an old friend of mine, the film star, Rosemary Leach died, aged 81. Rosemary was an acclaimed actress of world renown in her time and I shall never forget her roles in the films ' A Room with a View' and 'The Jewel in the Crown.' Nor shall I forget the impetus she provided to my career as a children's author in November 1990.

At the time I was a probation officer in Huddersfield who had just got his first children's book published, of which the proceeds of all sales went to the 'Children in Need' appeal. I had planned to hold special assemblies in primary schools in Kirlees every day of November with celebrities from local radio and tv, along with the Mayor and Kirklees' MPs etc reading from my book to help make the children feel special.

The poorest and most deprived area of Huddersfield at the time was Sheepridge Estate. As a probation officer, I knew Sheepridge as a place where high crime levels, frequent burglaries, mass poverty and unemployment, plus the absence of hope went hand in hand. Had I been any parent in the land, Sheepridge would have been the last area that I would choose to home, school and rear my children.

One night I read that the film actress Rosemary Leach was acting in a neighbouring county so wrote to her, inviting her to visit the primary school on Sheepridge Estate and read to the children. To my surprise, she agreed to come.

I will never forget the morning of her visit. All the teachers and school children were waiting in the school playground to welcome her. The most notable visitor the children had seen at their school previously had been a town councillor. At precisely 8.55 am, a white Rolls Royce was chauffeur-driven into the playground and out stepped Rosemary like a Russian Princess.

That morning was an eye-opener. Rosemary was a natural with the children and from all the famous names I would go on to meet over the following ten years,(over 860 national and international famous names), her speech was impeccable. After her reading, she spent time with the children looking at the many drawings they had done for her. She proudly told them a bit about herself at their age and specifically, when she was taken to see the 'Ironbridge Gorge' close to her birthplace in Shropshire. She was particularly proud to tell the children that the 'Ironbridge Gorge' was the world's first iron structure and had been built towards the end of the 18th century. When she left, I believed that would be the last of our contact.

Rosemary was very special in my advancement as a children's author and in my capacity to persuade hundreds of other famous readers to visit Yorkshire schools in the decade that followed. My first published book sold over 4000 copies in one month and raised over £10.000 for 'Children in Need.'

I was soon to discover that having had Rosemary Leach read for me was to be a great persuader in getting other famous people to read my books in Yorkshire schools. Before long, many hundreds of national and international stars of stage screen and film, along with artists, television presenters, politicians, archbishops, prime minister's wives, etc were added to my celebrity reading list. Mass publicity almost daily for ten years, brought my name and work to the attention of the late Princess Diana and President Mandela, each of whom phoned me; Princess Diana, to request that I send her two books of mine to read to her 9 and 7-year-old sons, Princes William and Harry at their bedtime, and Nelson Mandela to praise two books of mine that I had written about South Africa and Jamaica.

I would be writing for hours were I to list the many celebrity doors that were opened to me between 1990 and 2005. I was even asked to work in conjunction with the Minister for Education and Youth in Jamaica between 2000 and 2002 in a trans-Atlantic pen-pal project between 64 schools, the purpose being to raise awareness of racial discrimination between black and white pupils. To read about some of the celebrity contacts I had, please access on my website:
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/contacts-with-celebrities.html

After her visit to Sheepridge, never one Christmas went by when Rosemary and I didn't exchange Christmas greetings. Just like the character in the play, '84, Charing Cross Road' for which she won the 1982 Olivier Award for best actress, a friendship was born and maintained between us thereafter. She was generosity itself. One year when I was auctioning off for charity the autographed books that celebrities had written and sent me, Rosemary wrote back that while she'd never written a book, she had nevertheless signed and enclosed one of her drama books she had used in her days at Rada. She said it was the most important book in her life and was willing to sell it for a charitable cause. I didn't have the heart to deprive her of it, so I bought it myself at the auction by bidding the highest and presented it back to her the following Christmas with my love and appreciation. God rest your soul, sweet Rosemary." William Forde: October 24th, 2017.

October 23rd, 2017.

23/10/2017

Thought for today:
"There have always been bullies in every walk of life. It matters not whether you be black or white, male or female, rich or poor, fat or thin, child or adult, most of us will encounter someone who will try to pull us down and belittle us; either physically or in the estimation of others!

When I was a young boy growing up in the late 1940's and early 1950's, I once arrived home with a black eye that a boy three years older and much bigger in size had given me for the weekend. Seeing my shiner, my father (adopting his traditional John Wayne stance) asked, 'Did you stand your ground and fight back?' I answered indignantly, 'Of course I did, dad, but he was bigger than me, and three years older!'

I do not say that children are more placid in their response today, as I know that the level of abuse and violence one person is prepared to inflict upon another is more aggressive and brutally violent than it has ever been. There was however, an expectation within the working classes of the 1940's and 1950's that you never took anything lying down and without protest, physical or otherwise. Sadly today, the world is predominantly made up of two types of person. The first type requires no excuse to demonstrate aggression and is too willing to inflict injury on another for seemingly no reason at all. The second type is the ordinary man or woman who will see injury inflicted on innocent others and will walk on by without trying to intervene as though in denial of the hurt that is being caused. They are understandably ruled by fear and know that if they intervene, they too will be hurt and could even end up dead!

And yet, I know deep down that the only way to deal with bullying is 'to stand one's ground', however anxious, difficult and dangerous that course of action may prove to be. The first thing to understand is that 'standing up' doesn't mean resorting to fisticuffs, as that is often not the best way of fighting back. Sometimes 'standing up for oneself' will mean 'shouting out', 'telling another' and 'asking for help.' Whatever the bullied person does, 'staying quiet' and suffering in silence will only increase the likelihood of being bullied again and again; not eliminate it!

This was the message that I frequently gave children in their school assemblies between 1990 and 2005. Only by standing up to the bully will they stop bullying you. I would advise bullied children to tell their parents, teachers or any responsible adult they trusted. I would remind all spectators of any bullying that it's their presence which provides the bully with the audience they need which indirectly encourages the bullying to continue. Without an audience, the bully has their greatest satisfaction removed from the equation. Consequently, the audience can never be innocent in the spectacle and are as complicit as the bully inflicting the injuries.

My advice would be similar to any adult in an abusive relationship; to firstly get yourself out of the abusive situation safely if possible and seek the assistance of trusted others. One way or another, you will need to stand your ground.

I recall one cheeky young boy aged nine who took my advice on board. When I next visited his school, he approached me adopting a very cocky stance and proudly said, 'Thanks for that advice, Mr Forde. It worked a treat. After standing up to my mum and dad, standing up to the rest of the world was easy!'

As a probation officer for twenty-five years, I worked with people who'd been bullied at school and who'd remained 'victimised' ever since; often into adulthood and middle age. Some had been physically hurt, others psychologically wounded, yet all had been emotionally traumatised. The most long-term hurt however, and by far the worse, was surprisingly the name calling and the verbal abuse a child might experience. Paradoxically, it is far better to have one's nose, arm or leg broken by a bully than to have to injure verbal abuse and constant name calling. Whereas body bones mend much quicker, the effects of the verbal taunts can last a lifetime!

For any parent out there whose son or daughter is being bullied at school, you could do worse than buy them one of two books of mine which deal with the theme of 'bullying.' The first is called 'Fighter' and is about a boy with stunted growth. The story is about boxing and football and developing team spirit. The second book is called 'Tales of Bernard' and is about a pack of bullying stray pedigree dogs who run roughshod over a town. This book is suitable for girls or boys, child or adult. As with all my books, the standard of production is high, the costs are kept minimal and all profit is given to charitable causes in perpetuity. The books are in e-book format from www.smashwords.com or in hard copy from www.amazon.com and www.lulu.com.

Whether you buy my book or not, if you are someone who is being bullied, make today the day that you stand up for yourself and start fighting back!" William Forde: October 23rd, 2017.

October 22nd, 2017.

22/10/2017

A photo of my lovely Sheila taken in Wales 4/5 years ago when our love was still producing feelings of insanity in the mad mad world of whirling romance. I enclose one of the early poems I wrote her below:

'What makes me love you.' Copyright: William Forde: 2013.

'You want to know what makes me love you,
I do not have the means to say.
There are no words to match my feelings,
no marriage between what is, what may
have passed between us then,
what weds us to the future now,
what makes me yours, what makes you mine,
what makes my loving you divine.
I just know that I love you.'

William Forde: October 22nd,2017.

October 21st, 2017.

21/10/2017

Thought for today:
"One of my gay working colleagues called Peter with whom I worked in the Probation Service, once told me the secret of a man getting a good-looking woman without constantly scouring dating sites for them. 'I've always found that because I'm gay and never look for them, I seem to attract them in their droves like bees to the honeypot. If you don't look for them, Bill, they'll be guaranteed to come looking for you!'

While Peter's assessment of attracting women paradoxically held some merit, even though it was their brothers who he really fancied, I'm sure it was his Adonis face and athletic body that pulled them in. Peter, whose favourite past time was fishing, religiously attended the gym in Holmfirth for an hour daily, and even beneath his muscle tight T-shirt one could sense the movement of an abdominal structure that would not bloat and bulge with the advancement of middle-age spread. 'Don't give in too easily" he would counsel, 'there are many ways to persuade a good-looking woman who has never held a hot rod in her life to go fishing on a sunny afternoon!'

There again, I suppose there is something to say for 'Going Commando' for certain guys if the boot fits." William Forde: October 20th, 2017

October 20th, 2017

20/10/2017

Thought for today:
"October is as if Nature has been saving her best until last in order to produce her grand finale. Autumn is Nature's last and loveliest smile of the year. The trees are awash with splendour and look so radiant that one is seduced into lying down upon the soft earth that surrounds their base, looking upwards through their branches towards the sky, and allowing one's mind to bathe in their colours as the leaves are stripped from their branches before gently falling to earth. In autumn, a peaceful flowing stream surrounded by beautiful trees is where the rainbow rests between the rains and God sleeps within the woodland folds of loving embrace." William Forde: October 20th, 2017.

October 19th, 2017.

19/10/2017

Thought for today:

'Searching for True Love': Copyright: William Forde: October 2017.

'Where my thoughts of you are, there am I.
Where passion fuse with love on high.
To love you then, to love you now,
to love forever, this I vow.

Did you not flame and I catch fire?
Did you not fill my first desire?
My first, my last and all my love,
burns brightly in the stars above.

You are the one, my one true love.
You clipped my wings , oh, flightless dove,
to stay beside you evermore,
the only one that I adore.

So take my body, soul and mind,
take love, take heart, make thyself blind
to all my faults, my darkest fears,
my checkered past, my many years
of searching for true love.'

Copyright: William Forde: October 19th, 2017.

October 18th, 2017

18/10/2017

Thought for today:
"It was Plato who said that, 'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.' I must admit that throughout my life I have always been the fondest admirer of intelligence whenever looking for a mate. To me, a perfectly framed thought or spoken word has always seemed more attractively fetching than the perfectly formed body; though to witness the combination can be a lethal barometer of temptation to one's sensibilities. You can keep your Barbie Dolls and Baywatch Babes and give me a woman of independent traits and boldness of action; someone who can think for herself and needs no man to define her in her womanhood or sense of worth.

The beauty of a woman lies not in her facial mode but is reflected in her inner soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives and the passion that she shows which attracts her to the discerning suitor. She knows that the true value of a genuine smile possesses the power to disarm and is the most inexpensive way to improve one's looks. She can sense her beauty steal inwards as she ages gracefully, knowing that her true beauty grows ever stronger with her character, not fades with the passing of the years. Whereas wounded women travel the world armed with the cosmetic contents of their vanity case, the intelligent woman carries her beauty within the substance of her inner self and a book or one of the better newspapers to read on the train.

To know the mind of a beautiful woman is to appreciate her body like no other can. It is to understand both the simplicity and sophistication of her adult thoughts and secret moves, particularly whenever disguised in childlike ways of harmless innocence and female mischief.

The most foolish of men will allow beauty of face and curvature of body to attract their attention when seeking a lifelong mate, while the wisest will let personality and character capture their heart. Women of substance have long known that beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes right down to the bone.

There can never be a sight more gladdening than to see truth, honesty, compassion and fun writ large across the face of the woman you love.You look and know that her beauty will always remain a joy to behold. What has taken me a lifetime to learn, my dear mother summed up in a few choice words before I'd reached the age of 8 years when she said, 'Billy, all people are beautiful in their own way.'

Think of the ways that you are beautiful, express yourself sincerely and lovingly and know that ugliness will never touch your bone of contention." William Forde: October 18th, 2017.

October 17th, 2017

17/10/2017

Thought for today:
"As each spring and summer passes and autumn fades, my body looks forward to the following seasons to come when all the brashness of nature's beauty springs forth to remind the lovers and dreamers of the world that winter is a time for waking the senses while spring comes to excite them in all manner of reverie and passionate dreams.

There was a period during my two-month hospital experience at the start of 2017 when two near-death episodes almost robbed me of the opportunity of seeing another spring and summer. My terminal cancer transformed into a more aggressive cancer type, and after I'd weathered the storm, another four months of chemotherapy treatment lasted until the best part of summer, 2017 was almost over.

Before the sun went into hibernation, Sheila and I managed to experience a nine-day holiday in Cornwall enjoying beautiful weather, and we even got another few good weeks of sunny weather to enjoy afterwards at our allotment in Haworth. Naturally, Sheila did all the labouring whilst I directed operations. I can't wait until next April to taste our home-grown spuds and see all the flowers, bushes, vegetables and herbs we planted spring into new life.

Before then, however, I will have to check out any storm damage that descended on our allotment last night, and in particular to our plastic, lightweight garden shed we had erected a few weeks ago. At the time of purchase, we felt smug buying a shed that didn't need painting and wouldn't rot. Each time I looked at it with mounting pride, it blew me away. Let's hope that last night's stormy gale didn't blow it away also!

Below is one of my springtime poems to remind us of more settled days to come:

'If only one wish was granted to me': Copyright: William Forde:

"If only one wish was granted to me,
to save spring meadows for all to see
would be my wish, my heart's desire
to see spectacular poppy fields fire
icy hearts, stagnant thoughts and sorry souls
back into life where only Nature holds
within its ground, eternity.'

Copyright William Forde: October 17th, 2017.

October 16th, 2017.

16/10/2017

Thought for today:

' The Madness of Forbidden Love': Copyright William Forde: October, 2017.

'Something flows from your eyes that lights up my soul, stirring the embers of a dormant passion last seen at play in the loins of my youth, drowning all resistance of ravaging thought.

Your look moves me beyond a thousand desires, holding out the promise of good things to come. Your mouth tantalises me to distraction and your lips softly invite a stillness of sensuality, begging to bite.

The frantic beat of my heart pulsates with an unbridled madness that threatens to suspend all reason and rational response as my mind races towards the darkest recess of an abandoned soul; my paradise lost. Oh, darkest of desires, awake in me the flight and fancy of young love once more. Do not disappoint the dream I hold of melting love within the burning pleasure of lustful embrace.'

Copyright: William Forde: October 16th, 2017.

October 15th, 2017.

15/10/2017

Thought for today:
"A recent visit to our allotment got me thinking about daffodils and apples, along with a substitute mum of mine that took me on after my own mum had died many years ago. Her name was Etta and she lived until she was 94 years old. I was first introduced into Etta's life (Henrietta), as a kindly neighbour who did her gardening after she became too old to do it herself. Etta; who never married, loved me as the son she never had. She treasured my name which was shared with her secret wartime sweetheart, soldier Bill. Bill was the first and only man she ever loved. He was killed on the battlefront during the 'Second World War.'

Did you know that flowers have meanings associated with them and that during the late Victorian and the early 20th century, they were nothing less than floral letters? Flowers, apples and letters were an integral part of the most important occasions in the lives of women and men during the war years. They are conspicuously present on any occasion of celebration or remembrance. Floral gifts would be given by the man to the woman to signify their fragrant love, while all that many a poor man could afford to give to his sweetheart was an apple. Letters would naturally be the prime means of communication when the couple were apart, each one saved, bundled, and read many times during the years ahead; none ever discarded!

During the last two weeks of her life, I remained in Etta's home 24 hours daily. Each night and day during that last fortnight of her life. Etta's mind wandered in and out of the many years she had spent on this earth and the memories she had treasured since her late teens.

One night, three days before she died, Etta asked me to go to a Georgian book cabinet she had in her lounge and from one of the old books therein, retrieve for her an item she wished to hold once more. As requested I found the specific book she asked for and took it to her. She asked me to open the book to page 22. This was the age she was when she had first placed a daffodil inside.

The pressed daffodil had cost nothing and yet, to Etta, it was more precious than any amount of gold she could ever hold. As she was too weak to sit up at the time and was unable to even turn the pages, she asked me to look through the book until I came across pages 22 and 23, where between, I would find a pressed daffodil which she had put there during the Second World War years after her sweetheart soldier had died on the battlefields. I will never forget the fond and loving expression that crossed her face as she looked and tenderly felt the daffodil. It was as though she was caressing the bruised wings of a beautiful butterfly that had fallen to the ground. This was followed by a look of remembered sadness across her face and the shedding of a few tears as she remembered, her soldier butterfly would never rise again.

Etta passed away a few days later, still holding the pressed daffodil which signified her greatest loss over sixty years earlier, and as her Power of Enduring Attorney, I ensured that she was buried with it. After Etta's funeral in the grounds of the Mirfield Methodist Chapel, where she had attended service for over 80 years, I looked up the choice of her flower which she had pressed to her heart before she inserted it within the leaves of an old Victorian book.

Upon leaving to go to war, Etta's sweetheart soldier and she swore to marry upon his return. This was an event that was sadly never destined to be. Her parents had refused this marriage to take place prior to his departure and indeed, their letter correspondence took place in secret via the go-between address of her lifelong friend, Mary Milner. Etta was so frightened of her strict father discovering the clandestine relationship between his only daughter and a wartime private, that she destroyed his letters as soon as she'd read them.

After Etta's death, I'd been so moved by her tale of her soldier sweetheart and their planned marriage that wasn't meant to be, that I wrote a poem entitled, 'Arthur and Guinevere' which can be accessed through the link below.
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/arthur--guinevere.html

Flowers possess a beauty that even the blind can see, the hopeful smell, the child excite and the romantic pleasurably press for future recall. Often, our finest flowers are like garden friends who are always there to support us during inclement times. It is frequently the most splendid flowers that bloom most beautiful and strongest from the experience of their darkest moments.

Following Etta's death, I greatly missed her presence in my life. It was as though my birth mother had died all over again. It was during the autumn months and as she had willed me her Gothic House, I needed to maintain the upkeep of its garden until I'd sold the property. For over two months, the fallen apples from her four Braeburn apple trees remained slowly rotting on the lawn, asleep within the mounds of fallen leaves. For one reason or another, I kept putting off the task of clearing them.

Eventually, I was obliged to acknowledge that my failure to tidy up Etta's garden was merely a sign of my continued bereavement, and until my body was ready to, it couldn't 'move on.' I rolled up my sleeves and tidied up my past. Come to think of it, ever since that autumn day I cleared up Etta's garden, I will eat no apple other than a Braeburn. It's a funny old life, isn't it? " William Forde: October 15th, 2017

October 14th, 2017.

14/10/2017

Thought for today:
"During her later life, my mother loved to have a drink of rum and black currant, along with one cigarette, followed by another cigarette and then another. She worked long and hard all her life bringing up a family of seven children, of which I'm the eldest, and during her early years of marriage when my father played international football for Ireland, she was a soccer widow on most weekends. In many ways, my mum was the opposite type of character to my dad, and whereas he would tend to say little and keep to himself, mum said too much and was brazenly upfront with it!

It was one of mum's constant grumbles that because dad never drank alcohol (apart from the customary Christmas glass of sherry), he never took her out for a drink; neither did he dance, something she loved to do.

Mum was a social animal and loved to chat and mix whenever the opportunity arose. Consequently, she would jump at the opportunity to have a drink in a local pub with any of her children. I'll always remember her once telling me after she'd discovered that I'd visited a pub on my own for a drink, 'Billy, when handsome men drink alone, the women of the world have much to answer for.'

All day long mum, could be heard singing out of tune one of her favourite Vera Lynn songs, and often, when I sneaked up on her, I'd catch her dancing around the kitchen alone as she folded the ironing or performed some other chore. I swear that had the ironing board held her weight, she would have danced on top of my father's shirt as she secretly smiled! While in later life mum suffered from ill health (both mental and physical), during the whole of my growing up years, she was always cheerful and positive in her outlook on life. She was generous to a fault and I never heard a bad word said about her. However inclement the weather was one day, she believed it would be better the next. She ensured that I grew from child to adult always carrying a bucket of hope.

This photograph of me at the bar of a pub in Liversedge, 21 years ago, was taken when the family met up and I was buying a round. At the time, mum was ill and her seven children were all naturally concerned about her. A few weeks later she had died at the early age of 64 years.

Following mum's death, I cried for about a week while I tidied and sorted her belongings out. Although initially having been shocked with mum's early death, because I'd always loved her and done my best for her, my grief wasn't unhealthily protracted. My memories of her shall always remain treasured.

From all she taught me within her Irish-spun words of wisdom she daily bestowed (whether or not we wanted to hear it), a few unforgettable things remain fondly remembered by me. She taught me that there is a time to live and a time to die and that for everyone who lives a good and wholesome existence, both life and death should be times of celebration. She taught me that there is a time to resist and a time to relent; a time to speak out and a time to hold one's tongue. Above all else, however, mum taught me that there should never be a time when it is off limits to say, 'I'm sorry' or 'I love you', and there is never a time when one should not be allowed to sing and dance! Love you mum, and in his own way, I know that dad loved you also." William Forde: October 14th, 2017.

October 13th, 2017.

13/10/2017

"The universe is filled to the brim with a child's curiosity and the sheer thrill and wonder of magical moments. Unless we are prepared to risk new ventures though, we will not have new experiences. We have to stick our head above the parapet if we wish to look out on the vastness of our beautiful world and interact and connect with all its beautiful people. That is the only way we escape the shallow confines of the goldfish bowl. The realisation of this truth will set you free and place you on the road to certain happiness. We need to learn that too much wanting wastes all prospects of happiness. Contentment is never to be found in the fulfilment of what we want, but the realisation of how much we already have." William Forde: October 13th, 2017.

October 12th, 2017

12/10/2017

Thought for today:
"Be as the heart, eloquent in its warmth and make your waters of life the well you draw from when satisfying your thirst for knowledge and understanding.

True pleasure and satisfaction can only be derived from the practice of 'give and take', for it is through the acts of reciprocity we discover each other's worth. The sanctity of the soul knows the joy to be gained through the act of giving, so remain generous in all you do and grateful in what you take.

Cherish the smile of a happy child because its innocence hugs humanity. Within a child's gentle hold on life, eternity is embraced, hope for better days ahead is radiated through God's light and loving exposure, and adults are reminded that this is what life is all about.

Finally, as you love others, do not forget the boundless love of reciprocity and allow yourself to receive the love of others and make your smile ever wider." William Forde: October 12th, 2017.

October 11th, 2017.

11/10/2017

Thought for today:
"When I was a teenager who fell in love with every pretty face and wanton smile that passed me by, life was so simple to live and moral scruples so easy to forget. My friends and I would play this game of seeing who could pick out the most attractive girl as we walked the road from Hightown to Cleckheaton. There might be half a dozen mates from the estate playing the game. Each boy choosing was allowed to have two selections during the one-mile walk. Incidentally, everyone walked everywhere in those days and it was virtually impossible to walk one mile without seeing some member of the opposite sex whom you didn't fancy.

The strange thing was, without exception, none of us ever stuck with our first choice once a more attractive option was presented to us en route. Being creatures of prey, just like testosterone-fuelled teenage lads of the 1950's, I suspect that foxes are no different. Present them with a more attractive offer and they'll gladly take it in exchange for their first choice also!

'If you eat me, Mr Fox, I will only give you a stomach ache and you shall still require more food to satisfy your appetite. But.......if you spare me, I shall tell you where the fattest chickens roost.'" William Forde: October 11th, 2017

October 10th, 2017,

10/10/2017

Thought for today:
"I was looking through the poetry I've written over the years recently and noticed that my own output of poetry and prose started to mushroom after I found love with Sheila. I soon concluded that 'poetry' and 'being in love' go hand in hand so naturally that finding words to match the love you discovered becomes effortless. When I think back upon the many great romantic poets, many penned poems to do with both love and loss. Below is one such poem that I wrote after I'd been so lucky to find my soul mate, love of my life and wife, Sheila; only to discover that I had a terminal illness six months after our wedding on November 10th, 2012, which is also my birthday.

'I'd never find another you' by William Forde.

Deep thought, never could a shallow mind take in.
Soft touch, found in true love cannot sin.
Through glass that glimmers oh, so dark,
I see my past, so clear, so stark.

I trace your shadow, no regret,
I see your form in silhouette.
I call to mind your warm embrace,
that infectious smile upon on your face.

Why did you die and leave me all alone?
How could you love me, oh, so deeply, then disown
the girl in me that grew to womanhood,
became your sweetheart, lover, wife,
the one who always understood?

Farewell, dear heart 'til next, we meet,
once more to make my life complete.
Farewell, my love, my end of day,
I'll stay with thee, come what may.
Forever faithful, oh so true, I'd never find another you.

https://youtu.be/7YvQyAXHUUY

Copyright: William Forde: October 10th, 2017

October 9th, 2017.

9/10/2017

Thought for today:
"Ever since the Industrial Revolution and the advancement of machines over that of man's labour, the working classes have never allowed themselves to be trodden on. As a nation, Great Britain has and will always remain great, largely because we refused to be ruled or governed by those who live offshore.The Vikings couldn't do it, the Romans couldn't do it, and soon the European Union shall discover that they cannot do it either!

There is a determination, a downright doggedness dug deep into the heart of an English man that comes to the fore whenever respect towards him is found wanting; particularly when he displays outright defiance against all odds in his Churchillian challenge: 'If that's all you have to throw at me mate, do your worse then!' We witnessed this bulldog spirit during the 'Second World War' when we took on the might of Hitler's Germany; despite being greatly outnumbered in manpower, weaponry and fighting planes, whilst other friendly countries decided not to join the fight until the enemy entered their backyards and bloodied their nose. We saw this very same 'get up and go' spirit during the height of the German nightly bombings, during the Blitz. We witnessed the courage and bravery of our pilots fighting and winning the war of the airways as they engaged in dogfights in the London skies with superior German planes.

Brave English men and women in the emergency services of ambulance and fire brigade risked their lives daily as they battled on like angels of the night, retrieving injured and dead bodies from beneath the collapsed houses and ruined buildings which had been flattened to the ground, whilst all around them, bombs continued to drop from the sky, gas mains exploded and fires broke out. Imagine the sheer guts and courage it took to take a crying baby from the arms of its dead mother and after leaving it safe, display sufficient composure to return to the carnage and repeat the process. Then, in the morning after a night of heavy bombing, when householders awoke and saw only one house in their street still standing, what else did these brave women whose houses had been levelled to the ground and reduced to rubble do? They found their doorstep amid the rubble, cleaned and whitened it for future use before sending their children off to school, while they prepared for another day of defying the enemy.

Even, part way through the war when the British forces were trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk on the French coast and faced being wiped out by the mighty German Army, every British small boat holder and owner of any vessel which was capable of floating, risked their lives by sailing to Dunkirk and brought our soldier boys back home, so they could fight another day. Even the 'dogfights' in the sky over London, saw badly outnumbered British pilots flying inferior planes to their enemy, win the battle of the air with their skill, bravery, guts and sheer doggedness. As Winston Churchill said, 'Never was so much owed to so few by so many!'

I remember a Probation colleague of mine in Huddersfield called David Toothill. David always told it as he saw it. He expressed precisely what he felt in his bluntest of Yorkshire ways, which invariably included a few choice swear words. David once pointed out to me how foolish it was to underestimate the underdog. I paraphrase: 'It is often found in many settings from prisons through to hospitals, schools, probation offices and even the Houses of Parliament, that those on the bottom rung of the ladder will always be able to frustrate and beat those at the top!' David told me during a time when the main grade Probation Officers in Huddersfield were at loggerheads with their seniors over some particular procedure that management was needlessly insisting upon. Without repeating the numerous expletives he used within his explanation, my paraphrased version of David's words are as follows:
'In any fight between the Masters and the men, the working class will always emerge as top dog, Bill, because the middle-class bosses aren't like us. Whereas they were brought up to play by the rules, the working classes were brought up to first survive. And if that means kicking them in the goolies when they're on the ground and then burying them, so be it!'

I've never forgotten David's view about getting one over on one's betters, although I very much doubt he ever did see anyone who he would acknowledge as being better than him. A bit like the British bulldog spirit, I think, don't you?" William Forde: October 9th, 2017.

October 8th, 2017.

8/10/2017

Thought for today:
"We all come to new relationships with a history and a certain degree of emotional baggage that we haven't yet unpacked. Therefore, tread carefully lest you trample my feelings underfoot as you walk through the fragile moments of my former life. When you come into my world and stand alongside me, be mindful that we have different pasts and not necessarily the same expectations for the future. Do not try to walk in my footprints that lay buried in my past, lest you disturb the dust too much and cloud our future by the accidental opening of old burial grounds of pain and suffering I have not yet fully dealt with. Instead, tiptoe gently through my gradual disclosures and think upon them hard before arriving at any conclusion or the issuing of any unjust reprimand. Remember that all adults do not recall their childhood and upbringing with fond memory; be mindful that all parents are not kind to their children, neither are all adults and neighbours sympathetic when they hear allegations of neglect, bullying and abuse come from a child's mouth.

Just because I now smile frequently and treasure active involvement with the lighter side of life doesn't mean that it was always so. It doesn't imply that I wasn't frequently overshadowed with the dark clouds of depression. Just because I am 40 years of age and remain motherless doesn't render me sterile; just because I choose not to have children doesn't make me a bad person. I may be childless now, but suffered the agony of many stillbirths as a young woman. I may treasure all form of life today, despite being forced by my parents to have an abortion during my teens. I may even have had three marriages and three divorces, yet have always remained faithful to my sacred wedding vows and spouse.

Oh, new love of my life, in you my expectations are of the highest. Treat me with honesty, gentleness, kindness and oodles of love. Listen with open heart and understanding when I unfold to you moments of my past. Forgive me my weaknesses when you discover my faults and be always ready to hold my hand, dry my tears and give me that loving kiss that tells me you understand.

So tread gently, for in thee I have found true love anew and the promise of eternal healing and better days to come." William Forde : October 8th, 2017.

October 7th, 2017.

7/10/2017

Thought for today:
"Who else but a child could stroke a butterfly's wing and see it hang around for more attention? Whenever a fragile creature is prepared to place their trust in the hands of a human, one instantly knows that human to be someone it can trust implicitly. Every time the child looks at a creature it makes a new discovery. With a brain not yet fully developed, their minds paint patterns and make connections between us and nature that adults are blind to. They never overlook the obvious; their curiosity has no bounds and possesses its own reason which no adult will ever truly understand. Children are the landscape of all they see, the fabric of their woven imaginations, the substance of their touch and the essence of their smell. They present themselves to the world as they are within it. Oh, to be a child once more, to find fun in mud and splashing puddles, to see heaven in the centre of every stone and pebble, to understand nature's language in the whispering breeze and to discover the secret of catching shadows. " William Forde: October 7th, 2017.