MyEc Cafe

8855b28a69f90261f5ef0a1eafda3003.jpgDear members, welcome to MyEc Cafe! 

Take a sit, feel comfortable and order a coffee :)

This is place where you can stay as long as you want.. it is open 0-24 h. 

It would be great if you share your thoughts, ideas, current emotions,  song that you are listening, or photo or saying that touched you.. You can  write a poem while you are looking through the window.. You can even do monologues.. or simply be silent.. feel like at home ))

ps. idea about MyEc Cafe is not mine.. I have seen in on Gabriel Sowrian page, but as it is not active so much lately (last 10 years) , and  as it has no option for posting photos or videos, i decided to open new one.. hope he wont mind..

 

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  • Hi, dear guests of the cafe.

    This time, I'd like to entertain you with the record of my spoken poem "Between night and day". (Just if you like it.)

    Here you go! (I hope it works.)

    Between Night and Day.mp3

     

    Between Night and Day

     

    The sun goes down for sleeping,

    the day ends with colourful light.

    The sky looks like it is bleeding

    before it gets kissed by the night.

     

    Trees get washed all their leaves

    by the droplets of mist every night.

    White fog settles on meadows,

    under the golden evening light.

     

    Slowly, the shadows start growing

    till darkness embraces the land.

    Countless stars show their glowing

    and walk with the moon, hand in hand.

     

    The lights turn on in the buildings;

    look like eyes of cats in the dark.

    You can see the lights in the windows,

    and lovers who walk through the park.

     

    So loud and clear are the noises;

    interrupt the hush of the night.

    In the distance, we can hear the voices

    of some cats who meet for a fight.

     

    The morning sun sends its greeting.

    The sun rays are shining so bright.

    The sky again looks like it's bleeding,

    but this time he says bye to the night.

     

    • Amazing, Rose! Such a deep sense of solitude and merging with nature...Bossona is right, you have to publish your works. I even tried to read it in my own manner....Well. Yours sounds much better. You are its author )))

      Thanks for sharing, and with voice....Loved it.

      • Ohhh, O.M.

        ..PLEASE!!!! Record your reading of my poem and send me. I would like to hear it from your mouth. I still remember when you read a poem, some time ago. 

        I were pleased. 

  • Dear guests of MyEC Cafe.

    Would you like me to entertain you a little by telling a short fairy tale that I wrote in 2017?
    By the way, this fairy tale was my contribution to a challenge here on MyEC. Someone gave a few titles to choose from and asked members to write a story about one or more of the titles. At that time there were many challenges and many members participated.

    Are you ready for my fairy tale? Have a sip of coffee or tea, sit back, and start reading?
    Here you go!

    The clumsy witch who cried golden tears

    Once upon a time, there lived a little girl.
    She lived together with her mom and her granny in a little house nearby a beautiful lake, outside the city.

    The house, surrounded by a garden, was just a small house but very comfortable and cosy. In the garden grew thousands of different flowers and there lived butterflies and birds lived there, too.

    The girl loved the birds, butterflies, and flowers. She was a happy child.
    The girl was not like the other girls her age. She was a witch by birth because her mom and her grandma were also witches.
    The girl did not know that she was a witch though much of what happened was very strange, incomprehensible, and confusing to her.  
    She was a smart and happy girl, always friendly to everyone. The only problem, she was a little clumsy in her movements. She tripped even over her own feet. At school, the kids laughed at her clumsiness.

    Always, when the children laughed, the little girl became very sad and many tears poured out of her big blue eyes like a fountain and ran over her cheeks.

    One day, there was a feast at the school. The little girl helped to set the table and to serve the food and beverages. She carried a bowl of lemonade with cut fruit.
    She fell again, just at the moment she wanted to put the bowl on the table.
    All of the kids were sitting around the table, the contents of the bowl landed over a boy's head.

    Everyone laughed. The little girl ran away, very ashamed and sad.

    On the way home, she noticed how her tears made sounds on the paving stones as if they would play a melody.
    She wiped her eyes and then, suddenly, she saw tiny pearls on her hands; they were pure gold.
    She was surprised and speechless. Then, the girl remembered a fairytale that her granny always told her in the evenings before she went to sleep. But this figure from the fairytale was a witch, and her tears have been sparkling little diamonds.

    "I am not a witch," thought the girl. She stopped crying, picked up the golden pearls, put them into the pocket of her dress, and ran home as fast as the wind.

    When she reached the house, she was excited and confused. Her mom already knew what had happened. It was time to reveal to her daughter the secret of all the female family members. All of them were witches.
    All of them have to follow one single condition.
    To do only good things and not to use their magic of evil or even selfish things. And never could they tell everyone their secret. If they didn't follow the rules, they would lose their magical power.

    "Now are you a right witch," said the mother and with the time you will get much more power. Your clumsiness is over from now on. No one will longer tease you or laugh at you any longer."

    "But then I have no reason to cry," said the little witch. "If I can't cry, I can't get golden tears anymore. I would like to give the gold to the school. The roof needs repairing, and we need new sports and play tools."

    "Don't worry. You also can cry when you are happy. But you have to pay attention that no one sees your golden tears." said the mother and she smiled at her daughter.

    The next day, the little witch went to the school with self-confidence.
    In the previous evening, she has packed all the tiny golden pearls into a little linen bag.
    The pearls jingled in the pocket of her dress. The little witch looked around. No one saw her when she put the linen bag into the mailbox of her school.
    Nobody knew who had donated the gold.

    The school got a new roof, and the children got new sports tools and plays.
    The little witch had lost her clumsiness, and no one laughed at her anymore.
    She was very responsible for her magic power and did many good things. She only smiled when people were happy if they found some golden pearls in their mailboxes when they need help.

    • She is a little fairy with a flaw, such a cute little girl who looks to other's misfortunes, I couldn't look upon her as a witch. 

      • Sometimes, there is no difference between a witch and a fairy if the witch is a good one. 

        Thanks for reading and commenting on my blog, Shaheen. 

    • This is one more great story! 

      I think I will use this story for my little beloved ones, if I get your permission ?

      Dear Rose, thank you for sharing!!

      • You must not ask for my permission, you have it already, dear Bossona.

        I have written two other fairy tales. If you like, I could send you the link.

        Thanks for reading and your nice comment.

         

         

    • @Would you like me to entertain you a little by telling a short fairy tale that I wrote in 2017?@

      Pretty Please Agnes GIF - PrettyPlease Agnes DespicableMe GIFs

       

  • https://youtu.be/1SiylvmFI_8

     

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