FRIDAY is…….


(F)ruitful day of the week…
(R)epent always…
(I)ncrease Imaan…
(D)o your best and leave to Allah the rest…
(A)lways be thankful to Allah for each blessing…
(Y)earn for Jannah, In’sha’Allah…

Have a Beautiful Friday! Aameen.


You look at me and call me oppressed,
Simply because of the way I’m dressed,
You know me not for what’s inside,
You judge the clothing I wear with pride
My body’s not for your eyes to hold,
You must speak to my mind, not my feminine mold,
I’m an individual, I’m no mans slave,
It’s Allahs pleasure that I only crave
I have a voice so I will be heard,
For in my heart I carry His word,
“O ye women, wrap close your cloak,
So you won’t be bothered by ignorant folk
Man doesn’t tell me to dress this way,
It’s a Law from God that I obey,
Oppressed is something I’m truly NOT,
For liberation is what I’ve got
It was given to me many years ago,
With the right to prosper, the right to grow
I can climb mountains or cross the seas,
Expand my mind in all degrees
For God Himself gave us LIB-ER-TY
When He sent Islam,
To You and Me…



We all must fast in Ramadan,
Which is one of the five pillars.
It is a blessed month you know,
We fast for allah, not for show.
It’s designed to make us think,
As we refrain from food and drink.
We feel the hunger and pain,
As much there is for us to gain.
From dawn till dusk we fast,
Hoping that our sawm we fast.
While, try to do much good,
Building taqwa like we should.
Special prayers we say at night
To forgive and guide us as we try.
While ourselves it was in ramadan
When allah revealed the holy quran
And so began the prophet’s call
A guide and mercy to us all
And the night of qadr is unique
It’s blessings all believers seek
Then we follow the day of ‘Eid’ a truly festive day indeed.
Fasting teaches discipline too.
And self-control for me and you.
As year by year we train to be
Better Muslims, by Allah’s decree


The Gypsy Poet

Oh the blackbirds songs on the gorse at spring

Whilst the sun it shines on the party

When the roads we took

Through the gorse and brooks were wild and open country

Oh the songs we sang where the rabbits run

Where the foxes hid in the bracken

Where the lord’s last prayer will be granted there

Where the young ones will be a smiling

Where their nimble feet ran to greet

The travellers with their stories

Whether young or old and the pages unfold

Of the tales that told of their travels

On the country road where the blacksmith sold

On the blackbird sings in the morning

Whether rich or poor boy or girl

Oh I’ll be with you there in the morning

Oh the ladies dressed in their sunday best

The church bells rang and the people sang

Then we moved on in the morning

Said The Gypsy Poet