Nancy Ann Creed

Photo by  Greg Rakozy  on  Unsplash Sponges and the Soul Some people are like sponges. They soak up whatever is around them, And then pour it out on others. When they are with good people, They absorb your goodness, And then pour it out on others. When they are around toxic people, They become like them, And then pour it out on others. Don’t be a sponge. Know who you are. Beware of sponges and always be the good person So the sponges can soak up your goodness. More Works by Nancy Ann Creed https://books2read.com/u/m25Ygdv

The Fearless Flight Take the chance at greatness, a choice for all, Be willing to reach, to answer the call. See what reserves within your spirit lie, Of strength and grace beneath the open sky. Commit to the dream, take the fearless flight, Forward with conviction, leaving behind the night. Hesitation is the foe of every deed, By fearing failure, planting doubt's cold seed. You'll never know the heights you could attain, The monuments you'd build through sun and rain. The touch of courage, how it might inspire, A beacon lit by your own brave fire. Embrace the call: Take the chance once more, See what you can do without a shore. Take the challenge, soar upon the breeze, Let past regrets dissolve with newfound ease. Don't look behind; the future lies ahead, Just keep the onward path and be well-led. Belief and grit define the way we go, The goals you set, the success you will know. Though failure whispers—part of learning's art— Do not let that dark shad...

  The Wall Within A hundred hands may wave hello, My circle stretches far and wide, A glittering, expanding galaxy of faces. I wear the badge of social glow, A persona polished by years of practice, With nowhere left for me to hide. From all the laughter, chatter, speed— The ceaseless, humming frequency Of a busy, pleasant, surface life. I move through it with practiced ease, A master of the graceful pivot, The knowing nod, the quick, witty reply. I plant a seed of friendship in every brief encounter, But plant no need, no urgent desire, To share the fragile, intricate root of inner strife. That soil remains untouched, protected Beneath a carefully cultivated veneer. I’m fluent in the easy grace, The casual etiquette of the crowd, The light exchange, the friendly art Of keeping things buoyant and untroubled. I hold my ground, keep pace for pace With the energy swirling around me. But with a discipline honed by instinct, I guard the chambers of my heart. They see the joy, ...