Hasnaa Ettour 

Writing By Sir MLY Moulay Cherif Chebihi Hassani  

### Mirror of the Soul: The Diversity of Faces

In the midst of life, we experience varied moments that shape our identity. Each moment, every smile, and every tear reflects a new aspect of our souls. The soul is like a mirror, portraying the diversity of faces we wear, changing its character according to the situation, time, and place. Behind each face lies a story; behind every smile, there’s pain, joy, or sadness.

Life unfolds as a poignant mix of laughter and tears, joy and sorrow, inviting us to explore our depths. Are we truly who we think we are? Or is it the diversity of faces that defines our true identity?

Faces are different, but emotions are universal. Each of us carries a burden of experiences, be it a fleeting spark or a deep wound. The soul manifests in our interactions, revealing new colors on the canvases of our lives. In reality, no single face can encapsulate all those complexities. We are in constant transformation, even amidst apparent stillness.

When we glance honestly into the mirror of the soul, we discover that the diversity of faces is not a flaw but a blessing. It reflects the richness of the human experience. Thus, we must embrace our multifaceted existence and learn that each face expresses a fragment of our being. There's no need to choose just one face; we can hold onto all those faces as parts of our unique narrative.

Give the Title by S Afrose

 

Give the title!!!

How Sweet!
Your thoughts your passion,
The Love Lotus blooms,
For spreading its aroma,
With a new caption.
What's that caption?
Want to know
Still unaware.
How?
Give the title.

Yeah!
Time to Time,
May it glitter,
With a new prospect,
Heartly accepted this term.

Ouch!
Heart cries.
Mind doesn't allow this time,
Forgetting the sweet rhyme of the writes,
Of the dearest paradise.
Yeah!
There's a garden of Writes.
Where dream plays with its charm,
With all flowers as dearest lovely arts,
For making the dreamy tower of Writes.

Five minutes Five fingers,
Now tell the time,
Fume of heart,
Aura of love,
Give the title, sweetheart! 

Biography

Author S. Afrose from Bangladesh.  She published Author of 32 poetry books available on Amazon Worldwide.  Her writes have been published on Intl platforms as usual. Poetry is her passion.

Published by Tamikio L. Dooley

Fabiane Linhares( Brasil  e Aziz Mountassir(Marrocos )

When Love Defies the Distance

I don't know if love will come

When the stars come down.

There are so many distances even though

The moon understands its clarity.

But there may be a time

After the tears where

The kiss dawns in beauty.

I don't know if love will stay

When the sun hides its ray,

But through shadows deep and gray,

I’ll wait for light to find its way.

Though the oceans whisper despair,

And silence fills the trembling air,

Somewhere beyond the endless night,

Love will rise with tender light.

What is distance but a veil?

A fleeting cloud, a fragile trail—

For hearts that beat in harmony

Know no bounds, no boundary.

Each tear may carve a path unknown,

But through the dark, our roots have grown.

And when the winds of sorrow cease,

The kiss will bring eternal peace.

Perhaps the stars will guide us there,

Through heaven's breath, through whispered prayer.

Or maybe love, in its design,

Will stitch your soul into mine.

The galaxies may spin apart,

Yet still I’ll feel your steady heart.

For every breath and every sigh,

Will keep our hope beneath the sky.

Oh, let the heavens break and bend,

Let time and space begin to blend.

For love was made to overcome,

To sing when all the world is numb.

And if the world should fade to dust,

And stars dissolve as all things must,

Even then, I’ll hold you near,

Beyond the edge of time and fear.

So let the moon keep watch above,

A witness to undying love.

For even if the worlds divide,

I’ll find you on the other side.

Fabiane Linhares( Brasil  e Aziz Mountassir(Marrocos )

 NEVER TO PART

Here are the memories of our exuberant night

Holding onto the beautiful dreams 

Where love began under the stars and the moonlight 

Enjoying the night trysts 

and the pleasurable strides 

Fulfilled with the loves first blush 

We’re made to live in each other’s heart

Never to leave our hands in a rush

Destined to meet and never to part

Your magic charms don’t fail to amaze 

With stirred passions afire to burn 

For all the time I’m held in your gaze

Like pulsing embers of wanton yearn

Holding you in my arms with love so true 

Our hearts entwined forever in love as I do….!

Copyright: Parvinder Nagi

 Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai@India

THE SOUL OF MY LIFE!

Your soul forces me to keep on walking 

In my dejected and gloomy world

Even the seas are thirsty and famished 

The nectar is in the beauty of your eyes

Can I paint your image or write a poem 

An amalgamation of hues and rhythms 

You're the beat of my innocent heart

And the very soul of my mortal life 

Your breath is as fragrant as blooms

Your arms have the softness of lotus 

The brightness of sunray is in the face

A deer I do find in your gracefulness 

Your love can stich up my torn heart.

©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai@India

 

Ada Rizzo 

Beyond That Wall

A wind of hatred blows  

a chilly mantle over the Earth  

Violence darkens the sky  

suffocates the heart of every man.  

No more bridges, houses, childlike voices  

only walls and stones and blood  

mute spectators of mothers' torment.  

A long sequence of moments marks the horror.  

The future has surrendered.  

Where is the love that shone like the summer sun?  

Where is the beauty, the art that illuminated everything?  

The gaze perceives the futility of another stupid war  

battles with no winners no losers,  

scorched earth and tears of lead over lives erased forever.  

My soul remains silent but does not surrender...  

it is beyond that wall, beyond every war.  

Under that sky, one day, love will warm men  

under that sky, one day  

peace will break out!  

26/11/2024 - Ada Rizzo - All rights reserved

®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai @ India

 SADNESS IN THE DARKNESS !

Memories flood back as I think of her

My life filled with sadness in darkness 

We lighted the divine lamp of pure love 

Heard footsteps coming but far away 

I stood alone, restless with excitement 

And with the anticipation of her coming

Many a time I have been betrayed 

As she approaches with lowered glance 

My heart starts burning with rolling tears 

In spite of this a smile comes forcefully 

When she comes to smile in my dreams

With her separation I have lost my life

The flame burning but the light is lost

I do console my heart in the love poems

I write to express myself in darkness .

©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai @ India.

 

The last laugh

Poet :Khan Hasnain Aaqib 

Life is a tiny magical box 

Which contains a handful of stocks 

Of myriad feelings and emotions 

With contrasting epithets and notions 

If we dig a hole, deep, too deep 

Due to darkness inside we can't peep 

Sometimes not to dig the hole deeper 

Is evidently wiser and of course better 

Laughter is that precious treasure

Coming out in cautious measure 

Sometimes a laughter is borrowed 

From someone very precious like a gem 

If that person is not with us 

The moment he ceases to be with you 

That is the last laugh

Dra. Janeth Elizarraraz

 SOY TU RESPUESTA 

Soy libro abierto,  

descubre en mi,

los versos 

más intensos 

de nuestra historia 

y subráyalos, 

para resaltarlos. 

Ámame 

aún observando

mis errores 

en esta lectura, 

ya que son 

punto y aparte.

Porque yo

soy tu mejor verbo, 

el núcleo de tu predicar; 

verbo conjugado 

que concuerda 

con tus ideales; 

lo que resalta 

en  tu vida 

y que describes 

con comillas “amor”.

Olvida los signos 

de interrogación;

porque yo fui

 y soy la respuesta 

a tu oración.

Derechos Reservados:

Dra. Janeth Elizarraraz.

 THE SUFI OF NIGHT

Dr.Zainul Husain

The Sufi of  night  is raptured

In the fathomless depths of austerity.

The dangling waterlillies of stars

Become his garland to glorify his serenity.

The Sufi is lost in a mysterious meditation.

A howling hyena and the cacophony of cicada

All this hustle and bustle of nocturnal animals

Can't distract his spiritual concentration.

After completing this worship of twilight zone,

The Sufi will leave

To come back again

Leaving behind the offering of a sacred sunrise.

 Dr.Zainul Husain

 Copyright, India

 © Aminu Femi Jamiu

STALE NIGHT 

At the wee hour

Of a stale night 

When darkness 

Buried the stars

Beyond silent silk

That my soul sail

Burrowed and lay

At the palm of love.

Undulating like ripples

I oscillate along the tide

Of a beautiful beginning 

To the path of unknown

Like the moon in the sky

I basked in the lone night 

Musing like a bereaved owl.

The fang of love sting me

Ocean of emotion drown me

The arc of darkness eluded me 

But the soul of night embrace me.

© Aminu Femi Jamiu

All Right Reserved

XXVI-I-MMXXV.

Ann Marie Hansraj 

 Her Return

She walked in alone,

a shadow of strength wrapped in silence,

bearing the weight of whispers unseen

the past lingering like smoke in the air.

Eyes pierced her skin,

curious, cold, judgmental,

etching questions they dared not ask aloud:

Who is she? Why is she here?

They spoke of her,

not knowing it was she standing there.

She was eye-catching,

no eyes could miss her beauty,

the sophistication woven seamlessly

with simplicity and grace.

Her humble ways shimmered quietly,

yet the energy of her presence

lit up the room like dawn breaking.

They gossiped,

voices laced with venom,

forgetting truth has a way

of slipping through cracks.

How quick they were to cast stones

at what they didn’t understand.

Then she stood face to face

with an aunt who remembered

joy unveiled itself like dawn breaking.

Their laughter shattered the hush,

turning suspicion into shame.

One by one, they lowered their eyes,

their words folding in on themselves.

This was the woman

they washed their mouths with,

the one they abandoned,

dismissed as "never enough."

But here she was,

more than they had dreamed,

more than their limited minds imagined.

She had climbed mountains alone,

built empires from ashes,

and still, her heart remained soft,

untouched by bitterness.

They bowed their heads,

not in reverence, but in regret,

for their words had betrayed them,

and now truth stood unshaken before them.

Her journey was never about revenge,

but triumph

the quiet, sacred kind

that blooms within the soul.

And as they watched her walk on,

humble yet fierce,

they learned this truth:

No fire born of judgment

can consume a spirit that refuses to break.

Omatee Ann Marie Hansraj 

Annmariewrites.com 

#0030  Copyright 2025

 Title:- Fidgety of peace 

Poet:- Dr. Laxmikanta Dash, India 

Date:- 31/0

Life is anxious to restore peace 

It has an inherent tendency to achieve world bliss 

Any types of war and destruction ruins life 

Invites social catastrophe with various strifes.

Humbleness of peace gives social happiness 

It boost moral stamina for world beautiness 

Resurgence of peace is a vital process 

Everyone gets charm of life without world distress.

Peace is a panacea which cures social difference 

It spreads majestic power and soothing fragrance 

Its vibrant attraction sparkles the world conscious 

Makes fraternity to achieve world beautious.

The gleaming power of peace evaporates dirty particles 

Its main motto how peace will sustain in world circle 

For this reason fidgety comes in peace realm 

It gives lotion to the world like pain balm.

Copyright ©️ reserved

Ann Marie 

 The Beauty of Less

With age, wisdom softly blooms,

Life’s lessons etched in quiet rooms.

Each moment, a patient guide,

Teaching truths we can't deny.

Complex paths once held allure,

Now simplicity feels more pure.

Chaos fades when we release

The need for noise, the thirst for ease.

Toxic spaces lose their hold,

As hearts seek warmth, not bitter cold.

Stress dissolves like morning mist,

When joy and peace exist.

Less is more—a timeless truth,

Not measured by fleeting youth,

But by love, sincere and bright,

And souls aligned with God's pure light.

Omatee Ann Marie Hansraj 

Annmariewrites.com 

#0031  Copyright 2025

 Inside the Space and Outside the House

By   James Tian

There’re only two kinds of people in this world:

Those inside the house, dancing in warmth,

And those outside, watching but unable to do anything,

Leaving in a cold and hungry style…

Inside, people grew restless with boredom,

So at some point, a rule was set—

Every cycle, the “host” of the house would change.

Outside, people shivered in hunger,

Until someone noticed—

Watching the inside folk switch “host”,

Was oddly thrilling, even uplifting.

So the crowd outside grew, watching and waiting…

From the windows, the insiders saw the gathering outside,

And it gave their boredom a peculiar kind of relief.

They slipped paper scraps through the door crack,

Each marked with the names of those within,

Calling it a chance for the outsiders to “elect”.

And from time to time, leftovers from the feast inside,

Would be tossed out,

Becoming the ultimate prize for those in the cold.

At that moment, the ones outside forgot about the wall before them,

While those inside found yet another way to amuse themselves.

In truth, the “ownership” of the house,

Was never really in question.

The insiders never saw the outsiders as having a say,

Yet the ones outside—stuffing their choices through the door crack—

Began to believe they’re the true “host” of the house…

Inside and outside,

Two worlds that barely touch.

Yet “perception” stretches the confidence of those outside,

Into the space within.

And so, when the insiders draw the curtains, seal the cracks,

The outsiders cry, “That’s injustice! The emperor’s new clothes!”

But when the curtains are lifted, the door left ajar,

The outsiders cheer, “That’s freedom! The miracle of white doves!”

The last names inside the house,

Have never truly changed.

But the whole names outside are circling like the wind.

Yet no one asks what this house was built for,

Because the Habit will become Tradition,

The Tradition will turn into Faith,

And the Faith will grow into the Rules—

Then the Yoke is placing upon every mind that dares to turn…

Dra. H. C. Alicia de la Paz Ortiz Cuevas 

Presidenta del CLUB POETAS DE LATINOAMÉRICA de MÉXICO sede TAXCO DE ALARCÓN GUERRERO MÉXICO 

•Coordinadora del Comité Estatal GUERRERO de la Federación Internacional de Comunicadores con sede en TAXCO de ALARCÓN GUERRERO MÉXICO

 El tiempo perfecto 

Hoy otro bendito despertar 

el Sol arriba encantador

resguardada en un hogar

agradecida con el Creador...

Reflexiones al brote

ocupan mi pensamiento 

quizás al andar no se note

pero en dicha me siento.

El tiempo perfecto de Dios 

nos invita a ser mejores

a no tirar la talla los dos

sino a vivir sinsabores 

sin rencores acuñados.

El tiempo perfecto de Dios...

Poetisa de Plata de Taxco 

Alicia de la Paz Ortiz Cuevas

Dra. H. C. Alicia de la Paz Ortiz Cuevas 

Presidenta del CLUB POETAS DE LATINOAMÉRICA de MÉXICO sede TAXCO DE ALARCÓN GUERRERO MÉXICO 

•Coordinadora del Comité Estatal GUERRERO de la Federación Internacional de Comunicadores con sede en TAXCO de ALARCÓN GUERRERO MÉXICO

No conozco 

Me lancé sobre objetivo

sin conocer su pasado

sin escrutar si es dativo

o uno más improvisado.

Cómo la noche y el día 

apareció en un instante

en su mirada tenía

el afán de ser galante.

En ese tiempo presente

se encontraba el adversor 

y una tarde contra impertinente 

se tornó mi defensor...

Más callaron sus labios

el sentir que lo invadía 

más como el buen sabio

Alicia lo descubría...

No conozco sus andanzas

pero si su trayectoria 

sus propósitos que avanza

en legado que será historia...

Poetisa de Plata de Taxco 

Dra. H. C. Alicia de la Paz Ortiz Cuevas

Presidenta del CLUB POETAS DE LATINOAMÉRICA de MÉXICO sede TAXCO DE ALARCÓN GUERRERO MÉXICO 

*Derechos Reservados de Autora