Summer heat and long Days
Artist Unknown
Well, we are now into the first week of Summer here in the South, and I can tell you, most of us are ready for Fall. With temperatures in the mid 90’s and heat indexes above 100, it has become too hot, too soon. So everyone has their AC on, drinking lots of water, and visiting their favorite places to cool off. This may include their favorite ice cream restaurants, any friend or relatives swimming pool, or just staying inside at home devising a plan to move north until Summer is over.
I know, we complain, but most of the US is feeling the heat too, and let’s be honest, you can only take so many clothes off, and still be considered decent and proper. Again, here we go with more unusual weather, which is becoming a norm. Of course, 4th of July is fast approaching, and children, for the first time, will see their very first firework. While the other children of all ages, will ooh and ah at those wonderfully colored flashes of light, and let us not forget, the big productions will be set to patriotic music.
Until then, I will be counting down the days to my favorite season in Tennessee, Fall. Which stands for Football, Fun, and good Food. And one of the prettiest seasons we have. I need to start taking my own pictures, when I share these little updates. I take for granted how beautiful my town, my city, and my state are. Especially, since I long to move to either England or Scotland. It is sad, how we forget what is in our on backyards (aka cities), until you prepare yourself to make a geographical change.
Nonetheless, if you are in the United States, I hope your 4th of July festivities go off with out a hitch, and your Bar B Que, absolutely delicious. For everyone else, I hope your Summer, is going much more comfortable than ours. Keep shining, keep writing, and don’t forget to live a little. Life is just a lot more fun that way. Don’t you think?
Sparks
That’s all they were
Just hopes that she would feel
Something, anything wonderful
For one man
A mind that could intrigue her
With a sense of humor
To chase away the darkness
And give her reason
To peel away her armor
One layer at a time
Not forcibly,but as easy as silk on skin
And with joyful eagerness
How complex do we make life
For a flutter of feeling
A moment of madness
For sparks to fly!
Fear
It keeps you trapped behind your mask
Your what ifs
And what nots
And what could be’s
It will keep you in a prison of your on making
If you let it
Brief Revalation
Martin Stranka
Sitting still
In the middle of a daydream
A voice arises
And it speaks truth
May my ears
Be quick to listen
And not doubt
That it can be so
Where are the Others?
Jacques-Clement Wagrez, French Artist “The Storyteller”
I’ve been thinking much of late, of what it means today, to say to someone, “Your part of my Tribe”. Of course, this means nothing of being part of any indigenous Indian tribe, though there are many, but more of a recognition, that you’ve met someone who thinks, acts, or likes the same things. However, I truly believe, this is something far more unique, almost magical, when you look at words, and stories, as writers are oft to do.
Being a lover of words, stories, and the unique art of putting them together, can make one feel very alone. My musings in the past have left me concerned, if I was crazy, or forever doomed to be this oddball amongst my friends. Until, I met someone who understood poetry, and all these wonderful words, and gave them meaning in written form.
The world doesn’t feel so lonely anymore, and my concerns over if I’m crazy. . . . .ok maybe a little, and finding many creative souls here, has reassured me, I am in very good company. I certainly mean that as the highest compliment I can give. Thank you for your encouragement, for sharing your gifts and talents, you inspire me daily.
Of course, I would never compare myself to some of you, for you have put in the time to hone your talent, and I am in awe. But thankful, you don’t tell me to run in the opposite direction and never return.
Keep shining, the world needs us, even if it doesn’t know it, and more importantly, I believe we need each other. Well, I guess this is more of a thank you than anything, so thank you.
-
1.a social division in a traditional society consisting of families or communities linked by social, economic, religious, or blood ties, with a common culture and dialect, typically having a recognized leader.
Challenge Accepted
‘path path path’ by hockadill
If life were a game
Then most of us would lose
It requires all of who we are
To make it through
If life were a song
Would we sing
With boldness and harmony
Or in or out of tune?
If life were a book
Would we read it
From page to page
Patiently to the end?
If life were a death
Always looking over our shoulders
Waiting on us to give up
Or is it pushing humanity to be?
If life were like a journey
Meant to be discovered
With open eyes and hearts
Would we never falter, until our last breath?
Then I accept those terms
On one condition.
That I may have a companion
To help me know, which is which
Releasing my Tears, For what can not be
Tears by voltuzaidi
No matter, how much time has passed
There are wounds, I wish they were no more
A pain, that rises
Always, when I least expect it
The forgotten girl
The daughter, who wished she had been a boy
To have a real relationship
With the man, she calls father
Though, with time
It is, what it is
No fingers pointed
No blame does she give
Forgiveness has come
And the past, let go
But the wound remains
Allusive to the balm, to heal it so
Now, the little girl, has grown
No approval of the father
Does she now need
No hurt, does she want to inflict
But to say goodbye and good riddance
To make peace, and move on
And let her tears fall
On what can not be
Little Nugget
Sometimes, we get so busy with everything elseHungering Dreams
Rodin’s The Kiss (1889)
For so long, she must have been asleep
The type where everyday actions
Had become mundane
Or simply, she was blind to the world she lived in
That was, until she met him
Strong, gentle, warm, and intriguing
His very presence made her feel safe
But was she?
Did he know, that butterflies magically appeared
Within her deep recesses, yet so close to the surface
When ever he laid his eyes on her
The sound of his voice, sent shivers up her spine
How strange, to be suddenly aware of everything
The colors of nature, the sounds of life
The quickening of her heart
And the stark contrast of how alone she was
Not often had she worried about her future
It was like a veil had been removed from her eyes
Suddenly, she would feel cold
And acknowledge, that she missed him when he was not near
He asks her questions, as if
Through his eyes he saw a beautiful maiden
Quick of mind, who does not bore him
But he delights in her answers, his smile tells her so
She cares not, for titles or influence
But this, this is worth living for
No malice does he carry in his demeanor
But a gaze that tells her everything and nothing
Strong woman though she is
A deep longing has made itself known
To feel his arms around her
His heartbeat underneath her cheek
Oh what spell is this
When her hand is in his
And he professes, that with her is where he wants to be
Hope, do not be cruel
For now, I will give no surrender to any man
Nay, I am a gift, not a prize
Do not tarry, I pray thee my love
Death is preferable, than to this extended longing
I want more, I want to give
Of myself, all of who I am
For your eyes have seen my broken pieces
And yet, you still call me beautiful
Do you not see, that I am a blazed with desire for you
It is your heart, your love
That has given me unspeakable joy
Your ring, declares I am your gift
Drink of me, I give freely
Never part from me
For now I see clearly
In your arms, is where I was meant to be
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