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Training Mantra of the Gingerbread Girl

What I say to myself whilst I train for a charity walk dressed as a Ginga girl.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Run, run,And I'll let you pass;You can catch me,I'm the gingerbread lass.But I don't care if you're fast;I'm slow,'Cos I'm going the paceThat my feet can go.You...

V-Sign to the Sunshine, Stripy Socks and Gingas

How does a gloomy grump see joy where there is no joy?

This musing only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Sometimes I feel that the world is a graceless place. Well, alright, I always feel that. For me, every day is a task that I cannot look forward to. But there...