A Liquid Day In Many Ways
Up this morning before the crack of stupid, for what purpose I knew not, or, er, not initially. Yet, I admit it became clearer as the morning rolled along. I am a total sap. Romantic to my very core, as well as idealistic, and I fall hard for stories of TrUuuueee LOoove. Watching all the fabulous hats and men in shiny spats parading down the … Continue reading A Liquid Day In Many Ways
Enter Title Here
Outside I can hear the cars go by, and the sky is blue, but I am not. The floor is clean. The mouse is gone, or dead, whichever. Not a lot of the day left, but the sun is still shining, and I gaze out at the trees, I see a cloud go by. I’m almost done the book. I don’t want to be done … Continue reading Enter Title Here
within
though a door in the closet under the stairs through the looking-glass an abandoned mansion that lay inside old velvet walls beckon me towards dusty corners up the winding stair where more neglect lies hidden from my view, no more ignoring the darkness inside will consume you and goes past unaware ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** [photo courtesy WP Free Photo Library] Continue reading within
When I Was 6
Just noticed the leaves on the Black Walnut are starting to unfurl, as more rain falls, and the sky is gray. Beside me on the shelf sit a trio of ferns, each different from the other, and each a new purchase, something to green up my little nook when I can’t be outside in my garden. I find them inspiring, beautiful, soothing, and they seem … Continue reading When I Was 6
Every Year On That Day
Seventeen years ago this October 31st, and Mother’s Day blows in like a gentle breeze, kisses my cheek, and I smile and am thankful I had her as my mom. The other day at work I overheard some co-workers asking each other what are you doing for your mom this year? I got teary, turned away, thinking I wanted to tell them how lucky they … Continue reading Every Year On That Day
The Best Things In Life Are Free
Down the sidewalks of the village, left and then a right, and left, wait for the light and then we cross the busy road. Almost there, almost. We pass the daycare, and ahead I can see the green. Well, with a dog it’s never that straightforward. Of course, she must sniff every single upright structure for the ‘news’ of who’s been there before her, inspect … Continue reading The Best Things In Life Are Free
And The Ghost Of Robert Jackson Appears Stage Left
As ‘we the people’ are split apart with a well-placed wedge stuck in a crack in a log, and deftly knocked, splitting down the centre, as he settles his generous white butt into that house of white down yonder in the land of my birth. Which, by the way, is why I care, and, well, and my Dad’s Dad’s family are news junkies, so it’s … Continue reading And The Ghost Of Robert Jackson Appears Stage Left
The Golden Feathers
Down to The Coves with Irish last week, experimenting with the colour isolation feature on my camera. Weeping Willows at this time of year turn this beautiful golden hue as the leaves come in, against the grey of the rest of the trees around, and I’ve always thought they were rather lovely this time of year. As we proceeded down the path, keeping the colour … Continue reading The Golden Feathers
a Hoya from Rumi
years ago now, Mom’s bestfriend gave me a Hoya from the one that hung in Grandma’s kitchen and at the base of the pot she wrote a Rumi quote however, Hoyas and I don’t see eye to eye and i killed it long ago other things have resided until last year and it was left outside and yesterday afternoon the 1st of May it came … Continue reading a Hoya from Rumi
A Bonfire For The Soul
I may have to change my route to work, as I cycle past his place, zigzagging through the village. Not a big thing, and won’t change the time it takes, but something. Something I have to avoid for a bit, I think, until the rawness subsides. It’s a trigger. Definitely a BIG trigger. I honestly didn’t know. I mean, saying it now it seems ridiculous, … Continue reading A Bonfire For The Soul
Leaving Day
I know grief, its pit in the stomach, its hollow insides, its anxiety, its tears, its unexpectedness, and that’s how I know that this feeling is grief. I know it’s inability to eat cause of the sick feeling in your stomach, the drifting mindless from room to room, documentary to movie to Hallmark crap Movie on YouTube, lost in a fog. I know it’s out-of-place … Continue reading Leaving Day
On The Insignificance Of Beauty
I’ve spent years just as addicted to this idealized notion of attraction, and of being attractive. Of being different, of High School bullies, of years of loneliness, self-inflicted AND sometimes involuntary, and all that and so forth, though I don’t have a hate for anyone, cause I’m a frigging adult and I no longer need anyone’s approval. For a long time, I seemed to be … Continue reading On The Insignificance Of Beauty
The Porch Cat
/// WPC – LINES Continue reading The Porch Cat
by PaulaB 