golden tears of joy

sweet nothings

2011-04-20T14:44:00.001-07:00

whisper in my ear
run your fingers through my hair
surprise me again

winterfresh flames

2011-04-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

A piece of gum,
your words roll like winterfresh breath
from your lips, carving the air into ice sculptures,
slowly freezing the torn edges of what I once had thought was truth.
A refreshing sensation yet it has chilled me into my place and your words are
written on my skin like frostbitten-blue tattoos.
Give me cinnamon.

You cease utterance and the air falls, thrown aside and
cast into shatters of melting glass,
quenching my flaming heart.
I feel the steam in my chest.

I used to feel protected by the lukewarm everyday
but this simultaneous heat and frost has altered the things I once knew.

Your presence sets shivers through my soul and
I'm inflamed by your moving lips, a piercing whispering cry.
I've been reborn.
Where are you now, inside my body? pulsing through my veins?

In your silence, you pull me outside of myself in search of you
I need your sweet breath to feel alive
Don't ever leave me to my lukewarm existence again
but speak to my secret self like you did before.

Tiny Purple Flower

2011-03-19T18:23:00.000-07:00

Not sure what kind it is - but this close up makes it look like an iris - yet it was as big as my pinky finger!

Spring Is Coming

2011-03-19T18:21:00.000-07:00

Raise Your Voice

2011-03-17T10:36:00.000-07:00

who do you think you are?

2011-03-17T10:35:00.001-07:00

(inspired by Christina Perri's song Jar of Hearts.)

remember that time we built our love out of a deck of cards?
spelled out across the carpet and i lay there for you to take my picture
and you told me once i was your everything
and you bragged to your friends about how i was yours
do you remember that?
i bet you've forgotten now.

i look at that girl frozen in the frame
the familiar color in her eyes gazes in complete devotion,
but she's a stranger
you asked me once where the lights went
well, that's what goes with living half alive
and once my color was gone so were you
and i was cold and empty
you took it all

but now i'm stronger, a stranger to that girl in the frame
and you're back to take my picture?
the lights are back now, you say
but don't you remember?
i bet you've forgotten-
you said you would never come back
was it a promise? not that you'd keep it-
so you've broken this one too
the last one to break
and you're finished

you told me once i was your everything
i can finally say
i don't want to be your everything anymore
because my lights are back
and they're not for you

the arrival of spring

2011-03-17T10:06:00.000-07:00

The dark horizon covered in night
merges the angry clouds,
thrashes of light toss droplets to the earth
melting the white crystals away
and his shadowy silhouette
retreats into the sky
with first light.

She comes in glory,
her golden hair sparkling in the sun,
her daffodil skin radiating warmth and light.
She skips upon the cold hard ground
and colors emerge from beneath her dainty toes
as little sproutlets sing along to her rhythmic dance.

New life shouts proclamations of joy
and eagerly await
the new birth of each creation.
Her eyes twinkle in delight
as her touch magically brings forth
blossoms of red purple yellow
who capture the sunlight from above
and toss it back out to the sky.

The world reiterates with
the annual welcoming ballad
in praise to her rebirth and
exalt in the renewal of life.

the way i know

2011-03-03T08:28:00.000-08:00

the way it makes me feel
when your slick black shirt slides
so smoothly against the skin
on your back, sides, or shoulders
at the gentle touch of my fingertips

the way you nuzzle in sometimes
with that soft whisper of a groan
letting me know you just
want to be close
just close
for a moment

the way you work so so hard
so hard
all the time
but the skin on your hands
somehow stays
so soft
so so soft
anyway

the way you look
in your button-ups and ties
in your basketball shorts
and in your hot-water showers,
the streaks of
flushed skin

the way you hold me
not with your arms
but like every cell in my body
is directed toward you,
aimed at you
whenever you walk in-
my awareness
peaked by your presence
even if i don't look up

the way i miss you
when you're
gone

the way you hold my child
the way you speak
the way you look at him
like he's part of you
and part of me
the way he is

the way you pick up on my slack
whenever i give it to you
and you don't say a word
not a word
about it

the way your
blue eyes look at me
when they look at me
and i know
i know

a valentine's poem

2011-03-03T08:25:00.000-08:00

"A Sweetheart's Invitation"

To My Paramour

What do you say? Shall we dance in the rain?
Shall we kick off our shoes
and run in the grass
just to feel free?
Shall we roll in the mud
and coat our bodies
in it's cool richness
just to hide our differences
so we can be just,
just the same?
Shall we have a party
in the backyard
by candlelight
just the two of us,
so we can steal a moment
when our little angels/devils
aren't dividing our attentions
and we can just be us.
Just us.

What do you say, my beau?
My beloved, my swain, my dear one?
Shall we run away together
into the sunset
to blind our eyes from those things
left behind?
And the sunlight can rest in my hair
and in your eyes
and we can be free?
Shall we lose ourselves
in the oceans of our souls...
behind the words and behind the kisses,
behind the hugs, the cuddles, the sex,
further behind into the depths of being
where we can be just us?

What do you say, Honey?

Sweet thing?

What's that?
There's a game on?
Alright then.

Perhaps next time.

Sincerely,
Your Venus

starting up again

2011-03-03T08:08:00.000-08:00

I decided this blog has a purpose now that it can fulfill. Although I still post most of my poetry, prose, and photography on my deviantArt account, I would like to use this blog for other thoughts - shorter posts. We'll see how it works out.

Recently I submitted a few poems to the school publication where I'm going to college this semester and was rejected so I'm a bit downtrodden, but I'm not withering away or anything.

I'm not sure how often I'll post here, but I'm not going to have a blog sit here as nothing anymore. So, welcome to the new golden tears!

Redirecting

2009-09-12T17:04:00.000-07:00

Dang - I'm withdrawing. Not many commenters lately anyway.

Sorry guys, but honestly I blog more at my other two blogs- and my photography and writing is all going onto DeviantArt now anyway. If you would like to see more of my new pieces- visit the link on the right to my DeviantArt account. There are LOTS more photos on there already.

I'll leave this blog running but probably won't be posting anything new here anymore. Se lave.

May I

2009-09-09T16:24:00.000-07:00

Gently Now

2009-09-08T11:51:00.000-07:00

Amongst the Weeds

2009-09-08T11:46:00.000-07:00

Frying Frozen Eggs

2009-09-05T13:46:00.000-07:00

I know it's random. But I thought it was funny!

My Red Dress

2009-09-04T12:33:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling bold today
so I wore my red dress.
Feeling so bold today-
not at all the usual mess.

I'm feeling bold today
so I painted my lips.
Feeling so bold today-
I could swing my hips.

I'm feeling bold today
so I wore a red brimmed hat.
Feeling so bold today-
alone and unguarded I sat.

I'm feeling bold today
so I stood out for all to see.
Feeling so bold today-
today I showed everyone me.

Darkened Road

2009-09-04T08:31:00.000-07:00

First I walk alone. I do not feel afraid, and wonder why. Something seems to await me with an ominous sort of darkness before me. Yet my feet continue to step.

One foot in front of the other, I wet out, eyes focused at the long road before me. Darkness approaches. It comes quickly, quicker than I had expected. A chill runs through my body and I feel the goosebumps prick my skin. Yet I move forward. My feet seem to move on their own. They drag me forward fearlessly, ignoring the pattering of my heart.

My eyes continue to stare ahead, focusing on the graveled road stretching before me. The way is straight. It appears to be simple. Yet that daunting feeling of something dark awaiting me does not let go of my heart. My chest squeezes within me painfully. Yet I move on.

Then before I was aware, a warm hand took hold of mine. It clutched me with confidence and I looked to my side. He had come to help me. The chill left me instantly as my gaze met with his for an instant. Then together we continued forward. The darkness, still ominous, was not so harsh. My journey appeared to be brighter. The dark sky opened for a moment and I could see past its hold, a glimpse of blue.

We stepped forward together with a confidence, a partnership I hadn't expected. Hope returned. There is a light at the end.

Two Halves

2009-08-25T11:54:00.000-07:00

These are two views of the sky on the same evening. West and East.

A Child's Prayer

2009-08-25T11:50:00.000-07:00

"Heav'nly Fadder

Tank dee for my fam-y. Tank dee for my fends. Tank dee dat we can stay and Gramma and Gammpa's house. Tank dee dat we can have a pace to stay when we need help. Tank dee for my Mommy...and my sister...

Please bless Daddy in Afghan'stan. Keep him safe and so he can come home... and so I can see him again.

Bless me to have good dreams.

Name of Jesus Ch'ist, Amen."

(Actual prayer I overheard spoken by my nephew one night.)

Solace in True Paradise

2009-08-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

I remember standing in the hall where the art hung. I remember being awestruck at the announcement of the winner. Many did not understand. I was among them.

The contest had begun weeks before. We were to create a piece of art to bring to life paradise, to create a work of art that perfectly depicted where one could go to find solace or a perfect place of peace.

That day I went there to see all the entries. So many sunny and beautiful pieces of art hung on the walls. I had a few favorites, among them was one of rolling green grassy hills, with black-and-white cows speckled across it, grazing peacefully in the sunlight. The colors were so bright and beautiful. I felt it would be such a tranquil place.

Another was a beautiful and spectacular sunrise glowing on purple hills. It captured a beautiful moment the stilled my soul as I looked at it for many moments before moving on to the next piece of art.

The winner had stuck out to me in a way, yet not the way I thought would make it a winner. I was shocked to hear that it had one. Because when I had looked at it, I had thought it looked completely opposite of what I would have regarded as paradisaical. Its dark sky proved menacing with its rolling grayish clouds and smears of wind. I hadn't spent much time speculating on why the artist had entered the piece. It obviously had been a mistake.

But it had won!

The announcer went on, "Unlike the other entries, this piece truly holds a wondrous paradise." I couldn't believe my ears.

Then I saw it.

Back within the trees, hidden from the angry storm, was a cabin. It's warm light emanated from within. It was subtle, but true. What the perfect tranquility one could find in the depths of the angry world around them: a shelter from the storm, a paradise within the realities of the world.

I left with a new perspective that day. New ideas were sprouting within me from that painting: the one that depicted a true paradise.

prompt

Lotus and You

2009-08-21T13:55:00.000-07:00

Flower so pretty
When caressed behind your ear
Is a humble bud

prompt

The Dancer

2009-08-21T13:52:00.000-07:00

I hide.

Behind the woven colors that caress my body,
Behind the beautiful fan I hold before my face,
Behind the frills of fabric,
the shine of my hair,

I hide.

They see a princess before them,
The beauty of a God.
They see a gentle dancer,
Celebrating their honor
Celebrating their kingdom-

But I hide-
my hand on my sword.

I will avenge you, father.

prompt

The Cemetary

2009-08-19T10:24:00.000-07:00

Diversity-
Conformity-
Equality-

We're born.
We live.
We die.

Each cross set in remembrance
One for each life
Each one the same
Only set apart by writing
Marking a different date
A different life

Diversity? No.
In death we find ourselves the same.

Conformity? No.
In death we are set free.

Equality? Yes.
In death we are seen as equals.
Finally.

We all were born
We all lived
We all died.

Living on only in a memory.
Keep us.

Fantasy Land

2009-08-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

Tabatha looked around herself. The classroom was meant to be bright and cheerful, but it took her into an unknown world. More children her age began to fill the room as 8 o'clock drew nearer. She stood next to her desk and watched the others as they gathered together and chattered a little bit. Their voices made a hum of whispers, sounding like wind. The wind took her flying back and she thought of home and her backyard. The journey through the clouds was so exciting! From the sky, she could see so many beautiful things! The wind was rather cold and she shivered a little. When she landed in her backyard, the leaves rustled around in the breeze beneath her feet to clear and opening for her to stand. Her mother would be angry to see her home from school, so she decided to hide in her hidey-hole which she built within a burrowed out opening inside the largest pine tree. The smell of pine seemed sweeter than usual.

"Tabatha?" the voice was her new kindergarten teacher. "Would you like to take off your coat and put it in the closet over there?" Tabatha looked up into the woman's face. She had kind eyes and she showed her perfectly white teeth through her pink lips when she gave Tabatha a compassionate smile.

Tabatha took off her jacket and walked toward the closet. The light had been turned off inside the closet, and Tabatha walked into the cave. As she stepped inside, she could hear the drippings from the damp ceiling as they hit the floor. She saw two white circles with black dots in the center, looking at her. It frightened her, but she didn't want to seem like a chicken by running away, so she whispered, "What do you want?" The eyes didn't answer, but got closer. She noticed a knothole in the wall of the cave and hung her jacket on it. She held her lunchbox tight in her hand. She didn't want whoever this was to eat her lunch. Slowly, the eyes got lower to the ground, and smaller.

"Yeeow." The sound was soft and high. The cat crept into the light for Tabatha to see. "Meeow."

"Oh, hello." Tabatha said, happy and relieved that it was only a friendly cat.

"Hello." Said the cat. "May I ask what you would be doing in my cave?"

"Oh, I didn't realize this was your cave." Tabatha said, as grown-up as she could. "I guess my curiosity got the better of me."

"I must say," said the cat, which seemed quite proper, "have you heard the saying: Curiosity killed the cat? I would rather it said: Curiosity killed the little girl." The cat smiled slyly and motioned for her to come into the cave farther. As Tabatha came closer, she could see a little fireplace with two chairs close by. One looked quite comfortable with a large pillow on top. She headed toward it, but the cat leapt on top of it before she got there. She sat on the not-so-comfortable-looking one instead.

"You are an interesting girl." Said the cat, "I have been watching you for some time now."

Tabatha was aghast. "Really?" she said.

"I would like to give you this." The cat said, handing her a rather pretty necklace that glittered in the firelight. Tabatha took it and examined it carefully. It was silver and had circles and swirls on it. There was a small, purple gem on it that seemed to glow magically.

"Hold it with care." The cat said importantly. Tabatha decided she should go and politely dismissed herself. She put the necklace in her pocket.

"Tabatha, do you wish to join us?" her kindergarten teacher whispered into the closet. "We are about to sing my favorite song."

Tabatha set down her lunch box and came out into the light of the room. The children looked at her and whispered to each other with little snickers. The teacher didn't seem to notice and led Tabatha to her seat in the front of the class. When the teacher turned her back to gather papers from her desk, Tabatha felt something cold on the back of her neck. She turned to see a boy with a big mischievous grin on his face. She smiled back and touched the back of her neck. There was something wet and slimy there. She pulled it off her skin and saw that it was a lizard! She couldn't help but gasp. She treasured it in her hand and turned to look at the boy again. "Thanks!" She whispered, happily.

The boy stopped smiling and looked shocked. Tabatha couldn't stop smiling. It was the neatest gift she'd ever gotten! She set it on her desk and rested her chin on the desk in front of it. She focused her eyes on it and found that it was looking at her too. Its little tongue flicked and hit her on the chin. She giggled a little and felt the grass around her. She rolled over on her back and looked up into the sky. A cloud that looked like the lizard rolled about and became the little boy and then turned into her kindergarten teacher. It's mouth moved a little like she was talking and then her perfectly white teeth showed again in her compassionate smile. She reached out as if to touch the sky and the cloud resembling her teacher held something out to her. She threw the object and it came floating down to her. When it met Tabatha's hand, she found that it was a paper. She looked up and saw her teacher smiling at her again.

"Tabatha, what is this?" her teacher asked, pointing to the lizard.

"It's a lizard that I got as a gift just now." Tabatha answered. She turned to look at the boy again. He was crouched over the paper with a crayon and did not look up at her.

"Did Tommy give that lizard to you?" the teacher asked, kindly.

Tabatha looked back at her. "He did. Is his name Tommy?" she asked. Her teacher nodded. "Then, Tommy's my new friend." She smiled up at her teacher. The teacher looked back at the boy whose name was Tommy.

"May I take this lizard and put it in a jar on my desk until it's time for you to go home?" she asked Tabatha, keeping her eye on Tommy.

Tabatha nodded happily as the woman took the lizard gently in her hand and walked toward her desk. Tabatha looked back at Tommy. He was now watching his teacher with a look of despair on his face. Tabatha grinned at him. He glanced at her and began to draw on his paper again. She looked down at her own desk and saw that her picture was of a cat. "Hello." She said quietly to the cat as she got the necklace out of her pocket and put it around her neck.

"Hello." said the cat.

Simply Pretty Daisy

2009-08-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

Tossing in the wind
A little yellow hat with white fringe
Gently sways in the breeze' sweet caress
Amongst swaying green ribbons
It smiles into the clouds

Hold My Heart

2009-08-18T10:05:00.001-07:00

I once held my heart in my hands
Wishing to give it to someone
Hoping to find a warm place
Where I could share it
Where I could offer it up
Without any worries or pain
I once held my heart in my hands

I once held my heart in my hands
And offered it up for you
You took it gently for awhile
Then simply said, Yes I will
Your lips parted and
The words slipped, like rain they fell
Yes, you'll hold my heart in your hands

I once held my heart in my hands
But now its kept safe and warm
For I found that warm place
Where I can share it
Where I can offer it up
Without worries or pain
I know its safe in your hands

Water World

2009-08-14T08:03:00.000-07:00

Windows to the Soul

2009-08-06T12:02:00.000-07:00

They say eyes are windows into the soul. How is it that something so small on the body can speak so much? In a simple glance, you can see thoughts hidden behind them.

No need to see the mouth, the nose, or any other part of the body.
All you need to see is the eyes, or just one eye, to understand an emotion.

One can see shining in the eye,
A gentle glisten of happiness,
A sad, downcast demeanor,
A curiosity,
A shocking surprise,
Loneliness,
Longing,
Love...

All can be seen in the eyes.
The windows to the soul.

Link

Wisdom Beyond Years

2009-08-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

Tulips

2009-08-06T11:37:00.001-07:00

Green ground sprouts up
Stretching into the air
Pointing upward
Thrusting colors shoot
Yellow and pink lips
Open and kiss the sky

Opening

2009-08-05T08:43:00.000-07:00

I remember that day the door was closed. It seemed it was closed forever. She had whispered those words to me through the telephone. Those words that burned me through to the core. The words that I didn't think I would ever recover from. Then it seemed that my life was over. The door was closed. Slammed shut tightly, right before my face.

Yet today I feel another door has opened. It breaths fresh air into my soul and I am lifted up with exhilaration like a soft warm breeze blowing in my hair. I am lit up with the natural light from what lies within. Love has returned to me, if through another form. It is different. Yet it is better.

The door is opening and she breaths life into my heart once more. It beats; it pounds. I am revived by it. I now can walk through bravely, for I know this time it will not swing back. It will not slam in my face like it had once before. For this time, she holds it in her hands, beckoning me forward.

So I enter.

Waters of Life

2009-08-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

I hadn't expected it to feel like this. Many times I've floated out into the water at daybreak just like today. So why was today different?

Well, today is different because I'm leaving more behind. So many times in the past I've set sail out into this open water, looking forward with so much longing for the sea, looking forward to the many adventures that could await out over that water.

Today I look back. I feel the shore pulling at my heart more than before. I look within myself for the answers.

For so long I've loved the sea. I've gone out with no other desire in my heart, no other place I would rather be. I look toward the watery horizon and the rising sun. The air is crisp and touches my face, as it has so many times before. It is beautiful. Yet it has changed somehow and I am drawn back.

The birth of my daughter changed many things. It made me a father. It made my wife a mother. But that is just what happened on the surface. That is just what other people can see.

My friend comes up behind me and rests his hand on my shoulder with a smile. "Excited to get back out on the water again?" He said. I could hear the old excitement in his voice. The one we used to share.

I gave him a small smile, but I knew that after this last time on the water together, I was ready to do what my wife had suggested: stay ashore and watch my daughter grow up.

Hummingbird Nest for Two

2009-08-04T10:45:00.000-07:00

Home

2009-08-04T06:02:00.000-07:00

It was the same. Yet different.

I was back at the home I grew up to the age of 10 years. I remembered running around the wrap-around porch on summer days with a bubble wand, watching them shimmer and float in the light. Feeling invigorated as my young dog chased me around and snapped at the floating spheres.

The home was different now. Yet it was still my home. It was still the same shape that had been etched in my mind since the time I left it. When my parents had passed and I was taken away to live with my aunt. I didn't like to remember that part.

Now other people lived within those walls, but I found myself drawn to return. To see what had become of it. This home was mine, in spite of the years I spent away. It was mind, in spite of the new white siding now covering the old lovely brick I remember. It was mine, in spite of that black dog- instead of the white mutt with the brown and black spots I remembered standing on the porch last.

I approached, knees trembling a touch, and stepped up onto the first step. Everything seemed fresh and new. I was pleased. The home, although now different than how I remembered it, had been well kept. I knocked.

The woman who answered allowed me to walk through what was now her rooms, her walls, her furniture, and I told her stories about the way I remembered the place.

As I departed, I was again invigorated from the experience. Time goes on. People grow up. People die. What is left behind either can fade or bring new meaning and memories to others.

That's what made this house a home, not only to me.

Innocent Dreamer

2009-08-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

Soft sounds of silence
Moving air before the face
Chest rising softly, slowly
Eyes twitch gently
Watching intently the magic of dreams
Lips puckered slightly
Soft, damp, and still
An innocence held in moments
An angel sleeping in the clouds
A baby, precious and perfect
Steal a moment to hold forever

to pair with this photo

Flying Colors

2009-08-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

Colors float around me
Lightly flutter in the air
Wings, each different
Unique in their own flair

Bright and cheerful
They smile in glee
In gentle happiness
They comfort me

They whisper to me
From all around
A pleasant dream
I have now found

Butterfly Love

2009-08-02T16:12:00.000-07:00

Awe, your beauty astounds me
Your colors
The way you move
I want to come closer
I want to be near you
To feel the air's movement around you
To feel your slight warmth
To hear your sweet breath

Awe, my love
You are everything to me
The joy you bring swells within my breast
And I am overcome
Please turn to me
Please hold my heart
Put me out of my longing, this miserable yearning

Awe, my love
You make my soul fly
It soars above us, as we nestle here in the grass together
It leaps amongst the clouds
And lands amongst the sun
My sweet

My butterfly

Advise from the rubber duck...

2009-07-29T10:24:00.000-07:00

Don't try to fill yourself up with too much of what's around you. You'll find you start to sink. Be true to yourself and who you are inside already. Do that, and you'll float along through life with no problems.

PPP win

2009-07-28T11:42:00.000-07:00

Swinging in the sun
A bit heavy
A bit dark
Yet, as a weight pulling on the end of a rope
It creates happiness as it swings
It lifts souls to be lighter
It makes faces brighter
The tire swing

Silhouette

2009-07-24T09:05:00.000-07:00

The Beach

2009-07-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

What is it about the beach that calms people so? What is it about the heat, the salty scent, the warm sand, the slight breeze?

What is it about the beach that makes people smile? The sun wafting up across the sand and the air with its slight crisp? The sound of the water crashing down at the edge? The feel of the damp cool sand between your toes?

Why is it that even the mentioning of the beach sends me into a euphoric state and I long to go? I long to sit in the sun or under the light shade of an umbrella. I long to stretch out lazily on a towel or beach chair. I long to close my eyes beneath the sunglasses and dream.

The beach holds a natural power: the power to refresh a soul, to rejuvenate a life.

Sitting there on the beach in paradise I knew what had to be done. I have to come back more often.

Innocense

2009-07-23T14:28:00.000-07:00

Waiting for the Light

2009-07-23T14:10:00.000-07:00

He stood in the shadows waiting-
Waiting for the light.
For so long he stood watching-
Yearning to be lifted-
Waiting for the light.

The sun would rise above him-
He'd still stand, watching and waiting-
Yearning for the light.
The sun would pass him by-
He would stand angry again-
Wishing, for once, the light would come-
Come and envelope him.

He stood in the shadows waiting-
Waiting for the light.
Yet one step forward and he'd be there.
One step forward and he'd find it.
If only he would notice-
The light was waiting for him.

MaryLou's

2009-07-23T13:58:00.000-07:00

Have you ever met your guardian angel? Really met her? I have. I have always remembered that place and longed to return to it ever since.

It was back in my college days. I was in the middle of nowhere and my stomach was growling. I had been on the road since the previous morning, on the way across the states to visit a friend back east. It was a sparatic decision I'd made to go. One day I was sitting around in my apartment feeling lonesome, and the next my bags were packed and I loaded the car up with my belongings and headed out on the open road.

My last granola bar was eaten before noon that day and I knew now was the time to break out my stash of cash. I'd been saving this wad of bills for about a year in anticipation for a rainy day. I thought about the rolled-up bundle in the glove box. I'd added to it almost every day if I could. Honestly, I hadn't even thought to count it yet.

My stomach growled and I remember looking around at the sparse view. I thought I would have to wait awhile before getting anywhere I could spend some money on something to eat. I was still lonesome. Somehow I thought driving across the states would make me feel better. It only succeeded in making my heart hurt more.

But then something down the road caught my eye. A shack? No, it was a little store. I wondered what was it doing way out there. As it got closer I noticed a sign that read "MaryLou's" in big red letters. "We've got everything." That's quite confident, I thought.

When I went inside I was greeted with a lovely warm mixture of scents, somehow familiar. I closed my eyes, it felt natural. I picked out some of the scents I recognized: cinnamon, apple cider, new leather, cedar, and some other kind of spice... rosemary?

"Can I help you?" a woman with a curly, unruly hair was approaching from the back of the store. She wiped her hands on an apron she was wearing and had flour smeared across her face. I smiled at her unconsciously. It felt like home here in a way. I had missed the feeling for too long. She watched me for a moment and then asked, "You want a piece of fresh peach pie?"

"Sure."

The hours slipped by there in the store unnoticed. I'm not sure what kind of spell I was under, but the store had some magic to it. So did MaryLou. She chatted with me about several different things, her children, long grown and gone, her love "passed to a better place" as she called it. I was mainly quiet, but comfortable. She never prodded me for information about myself and I liked it that way. I shared things with her when I wanted to. It was a new freedom to have a conversation like that. I didn't want to leave and she didn't make me. It grew dark and I slept there in the back of the store where she made up a cot for me. It was so kind of her.

The next day she helped me load a bunch of things into my car. She insisted. I handed her some of my cash and she accepted graciously. But then after driving about an hour, I spotted the cash I'd given her sitting on the seat next to me. I shook my head in awe. How did that woman survive?

That's a question I've had on my mind ever since. On the drive back home I took the exact same route, to be sure to stop in and see MaryLou again. But her shop wasn't there. I never came across "MaryLou's" again. I've wondered about it and longed for it ever since.

Yet somehow it didn't surprise me. It was a magical place. That's why I say my guardian angel's name is MaryLou, the one that's got everything.

My Giveaway

2009-07-23T08:06:00.000-07:00

Hey! If you're interested in this lighthouse border, whether it's for home decor, crafting, scrap booking, etc. hop over to my Daily Drop to sign up for the drawing of my giveaway!

I'll be drawing the winner(s) on this next Tuesday! Make sure and tell your friends!

Head High

2009-07-23T08:02:00.000-07:00

Giveaway! Check it out!

2009-07-20T15:01:00.001-07:00

Oh gosh! A great blogger over at Laughing Through the Chaos is hosting a giveaway that I really want! It's a potty training guide~ and as you know, I've had a few issues in this department.

Head on over to her blog here to read about her giveaway and don't forget to read some of her other posts! She's awesome! One of my favorite of her recent posts is about friendship and it's here. Check it out!

Tossed-Aside Teddy

2009-07-17T12:19:00.000-07:00

His fabric once bright and new, now faded and worn so one could see the stuffing inside. His seams, tattered and coming apart. The fullness has been lost in his shoulders from being carried around, squeezed tightly in that little hand. His button nose is missing and his eyes have lost their shine.

He sits weakly now, flopped to one side, contemplating the life he's known. Contemplating the flashes of color he's seen. The brightness in the smiles, the rosy-cheeks, the laughter and hugs.

Inside he felt a hole where his heart used to be. It seemed to grow deeper within him and if he had the ability to produce tears, he would have. Anything to release the pain inside.

But all he could do was sit and think. It eased the pain a bit to recall the happier times. Yet once in a while he again became aware of his current residence and once again the hole in his chest would ache.

He went over his happy memories with ease, running through them in his mind. But once he would come to the time he was left behind by the one he loved most, his mind would jump over it like dancing over hot coals. He didn't wish to relive this memory.

Now he waited for whatever else was to come. Now he waited for what he thought was inevitable. Yet deep inside him was a sliver of a bright shining hope. Hope that once again, he would be loved.

Albino Grasshopper

2009-07-17T11:13:00.000-07:00

The Last House on the Right

2009-07-15T09:07:00.000-07:00

My house was the last house on the right before the cow pasture. Then if you followed the road you would come to the local reservoir. I remember the times we would walk down the road to go wading, or simply to watch the sunset reflect off the water.

I recall that time a bunch of girlfriends accompanied me to the reservoir, but when we got there we noticed people were camping and fishing. It was a group of men and they started calling to us and swimming toward us.

So we left, jittery and linked at the arms, singing comforting songs to relieve our jitters. I was the only one that looked back at the vehicle that approached behind us. They were still calling to us and waving. I was the only one tempted to wave back. The others kept me safe from that piece of me.

If I were to walk the opposite direction from my home, I would pass an old trailer home, a white house, and then I would come to the scary broken-down brick house. This was the half-way point between my house and my best friend's that lived down the road. We would agree by phone to meet and then each walk down the road and meet in front of that house.

It was a comfort for us to know that we wouldn't ever have to pass that scary house alone. It's dark cracked or empty windows seemed to watch us as we traipsed passed. Usually we would talk of other things, avoiding the subject of the dark house. But our eyes always watched those windows as if waiting for some kind of creature to appear.

This was the street where I grew up. Now someone else has moved into my old home and then left it vacant and for sale once more. They tore down our precious trees and left our property like an empty casket. My friend's home also now belongs to someone else. Her parents built a home behind it down another road. Somehow, although those walls are new and different, it still feels like home there.

Whenever I visit, I am pulled to the street- to walk along that road again, pass the scary brick house with the dark windows that now seem to be some kind of historical monument, and down the dusty road to the drained and empty reservoir.

I would sit on the cement there to watch the sun go down again. Now, only imagining its reflection on the water.

Dedicated to the Fat Cat

2009-07-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

This was actually based on an actual cat I grew up with, but he was male. We named him Hercules. He wasn't actually very fat...just big- but he did all the things that I describe in this writing, so I'm dedicating it to him. I hope, from heaven, he sees the intent and doesn't take it as an insult that I wrote about him describing a fat cat. RIP, Hercules!

Her head looked disproportionate from the rest of her body. It seemed so small. But no, her body was just big.

She would run down the hall with a thump, thump, thump every time my sister screamed for help when she spotted a mouse. Her belly would swing back and forth beneath her and she would pounce, always narrowly missing the rodent as it dashed away.

This was our cat. This was my cat.

I'll never forget the way she loved to come sit on my lap when I was trying to do my homework. Or the way she would always come put me to bed. But everyone said she slept with them at night. Because she always put everyone to bed. She was that kind of cat.

I remember waking up one morning because I found I couldn't breath. It's because she was sleeping on my chest. Once my sister woke up to find her sleeping on her face! That was a moment she never would forget.

We'll never forget our cat.

She was a fat cat.

Prompted by Pictures, Poetry, and Prose.
This amazing photo was taken by Jeannieblue from DeviantArt.

Best Friend

2009-07-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

A wet, black nose to sniff you and tickle your fingers and toes making you giggle and scream in delight.

A bright pink tongue to wipe up your tears and kiss that tender place on your knee.

Warm soft fur to touch, warm soft fur to hug, warm soft fur... to give a belly rub.

Big brown eyes that listen quietly and intently to all your dreams, all your fears, all your hopes.

That's his best friend. A boy and his dog.

Prompted by a wonderful photo at Pictures, Poetry, and Prose.
This adorable picture was taken by Wirikos from DeviantArt.

A Moment of Revelation

2009-07-14T12:07:00.000-07:00

And there was a truth...

There before him was the truth. His fingers trembled as they outlined the phrase on the page before his eyes. This scribbled-n line was a phrase he'd read before many times. It was written in the margins of his grandfather's favorite book. But suddenly it overwhelmed him with its truthfulness and struck deep to his heart. He became aware of its beating within his chest.

"I have it because I did it."

His eyes welled up with tears so he could no longer read the simple yet powerful words. Closing the book, he raised his head and began to walk. Now he knew what he was going to do. He would go to her. He would look her in the eyes. He would finally share what was in his heart. For now he knew without doubt. He loved her, and she should know it.

Missin' an Eye

2009-07-13T19:20:00.001-07:00

A Look Inside

2009-07-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

Simple Leasure

2009-07-13T08:37:00.001-07:00

Waking

2009-07-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

The Earth, The Bulldozer, The Tree, and The Rock

2009-07-12T22:20:00.001-07:00

My mother once talked to me about how I resembled earth. I was nourishing and loving. I could help things to grow. But at that time I was dating a bulldozer and he pushed me around wherever he wanted me to go. He spread me thin and rolled over me.

He needs a rock, she said. Someone that will stand strong and immovable so he cannot push her around. He may not find her right away and he might not like her right away, but he needs a rock. And you aren't a rock. You are like earth.

Time passed and I found myself a tree. He stood tall and strong and I could nourish his roots and he dropped his leaves to nourish my soil right back. This was love.

Someday I hope that bulldozer finds his rock.

The Pansies

2009-07-06T10:26:00.000-07:00

Pleasant faces smile brightly
Between the purple petals

Their warm glow from deep within
Makes me settle into the green
And quietly listen to their charming whispers

They seem to burst with a gentle happiness
And that happiness is contagious
As they rock gently in the breeze
I feel like dancing with them

Celebrate!

2009-07-05T13:34:00.000-07:00

She

2009-07-03T12:49:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I forget what she looks like. Because it really doesn't matter.

I go about my day, doing everything I need to. Taking care of my children. Taking care of my house. Sometimes I can go a full day without even making eye contact with her.

Then when I do, it's like a reminder. Sometimes it can even be a slap in the face. It's like she is screaming to me "PAY ATTENTION TO ME! I'M IMPORTANT TOO!" and I decide to take a moment with just her. She gets put on the back burner too often.

Sometimes I forget what she looks like. I haven't memorized the curves of her face. I don't know exactly how many freckles she has, or how many gray hairs she has. I just know the obvious details and the picture in my memory.

Then when I see her it hits me again that she's aged a little more. It hits me again that she has weathered a few storms. She's important too. She needs my attention now and then.

So I close the door to my bathroom and give her that time.

My reflection.

Strawberry

2009-06-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

Sweet n Simple
Seedy n Tart
Tender n Tasty
Red Ripe Heart

Offer a bite
Give a red-lipped smile
Share a taste
And savor awhile

Quiet Conversations

2009-06-28T07:57:00.000-07:00

My Best Friend

2009-06-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

I miss her.

Since age 10 we were inseparable. Joined at the hip, they used to call it. We were two peas in a pod. If we weren't at home, our parents knew we were at the other house. Our second home.

We were like sisters.

Spending every summer's day together, and every afternoon hour during school days, we were that.

We even gave ourselves our own last name. Because we were family.

Then we parted. It was like tearing a piece of fabric down the center. College. Marriage. Life took hold of us and sent us in different directions.

Now it's phone calls, cards, birthday and Christmas gifts. Two or so daytime visits every year.

Someday we like to think we'll live next to each other again. Like we did way back when. Someday we'll be neighbors and grow old together. We'll watch our children grow and take off in their own lives. Then we'll sit on the porch together and things will be how they used to be.

Joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod. Inseparable. A second home.

Hide-away

2009-06-27T07:54:00.000-07:00

Slug

2009-06-27T07:46:00.000-07:00

The Paper Bag

2009-06-26T14:04:00.000-07:00

It wasn't anyplace special.

It seemed like a dull place. Nothing ever happened there. I didn't think I would find anything interesting there. It was quiet. It was dark all except for the orange glow that wafted off the streetlight just outside.

It wasn't anyplace special.

I wouldn't find anything pivotal here. I wouldn't fix any of my problems here. I wouldn't make a new life here. All I did was knock.

The woman who opened the door was rather dull. She didn't seem very interesting. She was quiet. Seemed rather dark...all except for that orange glow.

I handed her the paper I carried. Because it was what I was paid to do. She turned to grab something to send back with me. I didn't know what it was. I never knew what they were. Then she caught my eye and I saw something different in them.

All at once it wasn't just a dull place. It wasn't dark and quiet. Somehow it became interesting. Her eyes were bright. They seemed out of place. Then, with a nod, she closed the door and I was forced to withdraw.

There was a story behind that door. It was her story. I didn't know what it was. I can't describe what it was.

Then for the first time, I broke the rule. I don't know why I did it. I just did.

I opened the brown bag she'd given me and peered inside.

This was a pivotal moment for me. This would fix my problems. This would start a new life for me. All at once I was part of their game and I knew how to play.

I left that place with a new spring in my step.

The place that wasn't anyplace special.

Biscuit

2009-06-25T14:49:00.000-07:00

A Friend

2009-06-25T13:29:00.000-07:00

A shoulder to cry on
And tears to mix with yours
A smile to brighten
And a laugh to share
A hand to hold on to
And arms to embrace you
All with no strings attached

Precious

2009-06-23T16:58:00.000-07:00

School Bus Memories

2009-06-23T13:18:00.000-07:00

He always smelled like cigarette smoke. Even though he had a nice smile whenever I got on his bus, he somehow scared me. He never said much, just scolded us whenever we did something out of line on his bus. I remember jumping over the back of a seat once when he wasn't looking in his mirror, just to tempt it. My friends would play all kinds of games that way.

Once for Christmas he handed out face cards. I thought it was a nice gesture but my friend told me I shouldn't take them because they were evil and that he was evil for giving them to us.

I didn't understand what she meant.

I remember how he laughed at me the time that little chubby kid with the dark hair blew me a kiss threw my window that one time. I was so embarrassed.

Then one time the tire of his bus hit a rock and the whole front end went into the river with the back end poking up out of the water. I hadn't gone to school that day, but I heard the stories. Everyone was holding onto their seats and they had to climb the legs of the seats like a latter to get out. It was his fault, they all said. He hit the rock. But the bus driver was a hero that day. Everyone got out safe.

Dreams of a Duck

2009-06-23T12:25:00.000-07:00

White was her color,
Pearl was her name,
Her daddy gave it to her
But, to her, it was all the same.

She had a little family,
Their colors varied true...
She felt her life was yet to start,
And she would meet it too!

She often walked along the deck
Out over the black waters
To look out toward the setting sun,
And let the wind ruffle feathers.

She dreamed of things to someday be,
Of a life lived in another day...
Then the time did come when fall turned winter
And they took flight with freedom and away.

She flew at the point with her neck held high
Her feathers blowing in the wind
And now her dreams were coming fast
Her life now began to begin.

Mother's Love

2009-06-22T16:06:00.000-07:00

A mother's love
Will keep her child
Safe from harms around
She protects the small piece
Of herself
In warm embrace, no sound

The peace of moments
Held so still
Forever kept within
Her heart speaks words
So wise and pure
For every life's begin

Through flames of sorrow
She holds true
The baby in her arms
For all her life
She dreamt of this
Sweet child full of charms

A mother's love
Surpasses all
Even her own life
For within the child
He holds dear
Her love, as he'll face strife

The Beginning of the Rest of Her Life

2009-06-15T08:18:00.000-07:00

Her heart was excited today, and she fought off her body's exhilaration. She didn't want to be sweating too much. This was the day her life would begin.

She sat in front of the mirror, the women around her fussing away with her hair and make-up. She never fussed so much over herself. She wouldn't have aloud so much fussing except for today. Today she accepted with open arms. Because today was special. It made her mom feel better anyway to fuss.

The others busily were putting in earrings, applying mascara and lipstick, rouge. But she felt like she didn't need rouge. She felt like her heart's glow would give her face enough color. A small smile played on her lips and her hands shook as she looked down at her nails, which another woman was polishing in a lovely french manicure.

"Relax, Amber. Your fingers are so jittery! I really don't want to mess this up!" This was her best friend, Jen.

Jen had been there for her entire life. It felt like a bittersweet time between them. A matter of saying goodbye in a way...parting ways on how they had done every other thing in life together. In this, Amber was going on alone.

Jen met with Amber's gaze then for a moment. In an instant they communicated in perfect understanding. Although life was going on in different directions, they would always remain the best of friends. Amber fought back the tears now. They wouldn't help with her jitters.

The time seemed to fly by before she knew it. Suddenly she was standing in front of the screen door, looking out toward the car that would take her to the church. Her heart started to pound more now. Outside waited her destiny.

The others, in their pink dresses, helped her cross the threshold. They held the door open, lifted her white train, and held her sleek veil.

And she stepped through, on her way to meet it. Her destiny.

The Old Photograph

2009-06-12T12:31:00.000-07:00

I look at that face, frozen in time. How I miss that face. The one with the plump smooth cheeks. The lips curved up. The eyes so innocent and pure. The happiness in the simple things. The pleasure from nature's gifts. Just enjoying the art of living.

Sometimes I find it hard to believe he was me.

I look at my hands, scarred and worked through much toils. My skin is rough now, toughened and weathered. My eyes have seen sorrows. They still sparkle but in watery tears of having seen the troubles of the world.

I look at that face, frozen in time. How I miss that face. It once was mine.

Breaking Sky

2009-06-12T12:19:00.001-07:00

She was rushing today. Her heart pounding with anticipation. For it was Friday, and this was the day she would receiver her weekly letter from Bob. He was so far away, fighting a fight worth everything. She felt too many would not fight it, and that left people like Bob.

She was gathering her purse...her keys...where were her keys?

Rushing through the house her thoughts again turned to the moment he told her he was going. The moment she knew her fears of him leaving were coming true and she wasn't going to stop him. She didn't even make an effort to stop him. She knew he wanted to do it. That he would to stand for what was right...to be noble. Because that is who he is. They promised to write every week. He wouldn't miss one. And he hadn't.

She found her keys in her purse after all.

Rushing out the door, she had her baby on her hip and towed her 3 year old son behind her. Other thoughts ran through her mind, groceries that were needed...she had to stop at the bank...but her mind quickly turned again to the post office. First and foremost.

The sky was growing dark above them as she buckled her children in the car. Though she hardly noticed. Her mind was already going over the way it would feel to hold the crisp paper in her hands and her eyes stroking over the familiar curves of his handwriting. Somehow the curves had become their intimacy. The way to be close to him from so far away.

Finally, after struggling to get her car through the traffic...that annoying vehicle that was going the speed limit! She was at the post office. Leaving the car running with her children inside, she rushed to the PO Box and quickly opened it to find her letter.

It was empty.

As she returned to her vehicle, she tried to put it out of her mind. The clouds were gathering and the sky was darker than before. She looked up to it for a moment. It was hanging low. Waiting to break.

She drove to the grocery store. Her kids were such angels there. She watched while other small kids screamed about what they wanted but couldn't have while her little boy sat patiently in the cart playing with his little jet airplane and snacking once in a while on a cracker. How blessed she was. She couldn't imagine life any differently. But the missing letter still weighed in the back of her mind.

She went through the bank drive-through and then home. Life had slowed. She was just doing what she had to. She unloaded the children and headed to the door.

Then she saw it.

A notice. Red. Stuck to her front door and waving in the wind.

And as her heart broke, the thunder broke too. Finally the heavy clouds, like her heart, broke and it cried. It cried right along with her.

Turtle Stretch

2009-06-11T16:53:00.000-07:00

A Li'l Bi' O' Luck

2009-06-11T10:09:00.000-07:00

His little face was dirty, all except where the tears slid down, making clean tracks. He was quiet. He didn't make a sound. Just let the big tears roll down in silence, as he sat outside on the park bench.

I wondered at his age. Was he close to ten? Or was he younger, aged by the sorrow I could see in his dirty hands, his bare toes... Where did he belong? Perhaps he didn't know himself.

I watched at a safe distance, longing to bring him comfort but unable to know how. His shouldered trembled every now and then in the sobs I knew were longing to escape his lips. Yet he remained silent.

I looked down at my own feet, guilt rising in my chest. Why wouldn't I go to him? Yet I knew I would not.

Then I heard a gasp of air and I returned my gaze to the park bench, but he was no longer seated there. My breath caught in my throat and I stood, searching in panic for where he had gone. Then I spotted him. He had only moved a few feet, and he was kneeling, his back to me.

I heard a soft sound coming from his direction. I didn't know what it was at first, but I made my way down the path, still keeping a safe distance from him and saw that he was smiling. He was gasping in little soft giggles and muted explanations of happiness. His eyes were looking down at his dirty hands, rested palm up on the paved ground. He sniffed and raised his arm to wipe away his tears with his sleeve. It left a clean smear across his dirty face. But his eyes didn't leave his hands, and his smile didn't leave his lips.

I got closer. Cautious. Unable to muster the courage to approach. He didn't move. Then suddenly, he looked up and straight at me.

I was discovered! I froze in mid-step, unsure how to respond. He was still grinning. Looking back down at his hands, he stood carefully. He held out his hand as though holding something, though his palm appeared to be empty. I wondered at his movement. Perhaps he'd gone mad. He approached me then, and all I could do was stand there. I was horrified at being discovered. I was unsure as to what I would do now.

He approached and I noticed he was much taller than me. I hadn't noticed until now, but his pants were much to short. His legs protruded from them like the legs of a stalk. And he still smiled, now at me.

"Look!" He whispered, "I've found my li'l bi' o' luck!" He held out his empty hand and then I saw it. A tiny spotted red bug. "He' ya go, li'l lady." He added, holding it out to me, and taking my much cleaner, pale hand in his own, he gently coaxed the little creature onto my skin. "Maybe i'll brigh'en you're day too, Miss." Then he walked away, strolling with added confidence. His shoulders were back, head arrect. It was as if all the sorrow from before had vanished from his dirty face.

I looked down at my pink skin and watched as the little lady opened her wings and jumped into the air to fly away. I watched as it soared in the air above me and away.

Looking after that dirty boy, I felt something had awakened within me. I hadn't the courage to go to him, to see if I could help. I was supposed to be well bread, I was supposed to be a lady. Yet, he hadn't hesitated to share his little bit of luck, as he'd called it, with me. I was determined now to never falter in bringing someone else a little bit of luck.

Every time I see a lady bug, I will remember that boy with the dirty face and tear-washed cheeks. The boy who's teeth-sparkling smile had brought me a little luck when I hadn't appeared to need it as he did.

My Entry for My Photo "The Gathering"

2009-06-11T09:27:00.000-07:00

I watched as they fluttered to the tree. They gathered there together only to then flutter down, disappearing in the tall grass. Then they would reappear, flutter again up to the tree. They gathered here and there and I wondered what they're purpose was, what they were doing. It seemed they were waiting together, fluttering back and forth.

Then it came to me with the distant flash of lightning. It was a dance.

I watched as they fluttered around each other, twirling and swooping, jumping and landing. It was beautiful. Their wings, a mixture of black and gray, artistically moving together and twirling around one another, then disappearing once more in the tall grass.

I watched them dance as the clouds rolled in. I watched them flutter to the tree and back to the grass until the thunder broke across the sky and the rain began to fall. Then their dance became something more. They fluffed their feathers and sat in the tree, gathering together in silence. Then I knew this is what they had been waiting for.

My Photo on PP&P

2009-06-10T21:27:00.000-07:00

My Title: "Daunting", PP&P's prompt: "The Gathering: They waited for..."

Recently Pictures, Poetry, and Prose displayed one of my photos to inspire writing! I was so excited to see a picture of my own displayed...and am excited to see what it inspires. I have many other photos displayed at my gallery at DeviantArt. (The link is at the right or click here.) I've had one person tell me their favorite photo from my gallery is my shot of the entire tree from the photo displayed at PP&P. I named this one "Twisting" I thought I would post it here as well. It's one of my favorites too, Dan. Thanks!

This was another picture I took just before that storm blew in. That wind really seemed to add to the effect of my photos! It has a foreboding feeling. I am interested to see what other favorites people may have from my gallery at DeviantArt. Please visit it whenever you can and let me know which shot you like best. Then I will post it here as well. :)

100th Post

2009-06-09T13:13:00.000-07:00

It's my 100th Post!
Thought I'd ask you for suggestions on what art you'd like to see from me...so fire away! What subject would you like me to write about or shoot pictures of?

Neat Trees and a Storm Brewing

2009-06-09T10:32:00.000-07:00

I couldn't believe how interesting these trees looked with a dark backdrop. Under the darkened sky, their branches were so white and seemed to glow! So, I ventured out for photos.

Then I was met with more and more wind as the sky got darker and as I looked up this humongous dark cloud was rolling in quite quickly.

It sort of scared me, actually. It was so dark and low as if it would fall to the ground. And it moved quickly in the wind. So I took as many shots as I could before retreating to shelter.

It was not a moment too soon! The wind picked up and soon there was pounding rain drops on our windows that sounded so hard I thought they might break through! Soon it turned to hail the size of my big toe! And no sooner did it start, the thunder broke across the sky, and it woke my son from his nap. We watched as it pounded sideways in the wind and then passed over us to pour over those south of us. It was a quite amazing storm! So sudden and quick. I'm glad I got some shots of it.

Cows

2009-06-09T09:18:00.000-07:00

They usually don't pay attention at all. They're usually far away and never notice my presence. But today as I moved along the grass I caught their eyes. Slowly each one gathered closer and closer, watching my every move with curiosity and almost wonder. How amazing could I be? I'm just a normal human being. What could I be doing that causes such content interest? I sit down on a rock then and watch them back, unfolding my napkin and sandwich. They're lined up perfectly before me. Immovable. Seems they're almost afraid to look away. Then the one in the center turns to her neighbor and I swear I hear her say the words:

"Do you think she's going to share or should we go on to plan B?"

Golden Bridge

2009-06-07T15:09:00.000-07:00

Firelight
Glowing in the distance
Dances across the water
On a man-made beacon
Drawing me in
To cross
And find you

Losing Control to Find It

2009-06-07T15:03:00.000-07:00

It was in this moment that he realized this is the way he always wanted to go. Suddenly, all the fear left him and he stopped fighting it and sat back to take in the moment. The equipment beneath him stuttered and spun and he simply smiled.

He'd lived his life the way he had always hoped he would. He had learned to fly. The dream he had had as a child was fulfilled and even magnified beyond what he ever imagined. As a stunt flier, he had wowed the crowd. He had managed to do things in mid air that he never could have dreamed possible back when he first saw a plane fly above his head at the age of 7 years. Back then, he only imagined soaring through the clouds someday. He never dreamed he would do that and so much more.

The plane beneath him had been his friend, his comfort through every trial, his get-away from every difficulty. This was the friend he had spent so much of his life with, and this was the friend he would end it all with. Its spinning had now subsided and it was diving toward the earth.

He closed his eyes and felt that now he was truly flying. Inside and out.

Hope Shines a Light

2009-06-07T12:04:00.000-07:00

There are times when dark clouds descend and we find ourselves waiting for that light to come. Trust that it always does.

Hey Good Lookin'

2009-06-03T10:11:00.000-07:00

Heart Tattoo

2009-06-03T10:09:00.000-07:00

Light a Candle

2009-06-02T15:11:00.000-07:00

Each soul shines bright, like a candle
Some brighter than others
But we can all share the light

Each soul gives off heat, like a candle
Some warmer than others
But we can all share in the warmth

Standing together
We share our light with each other
We shine the brightest in prayer

Come closer to
Those empty souls
The ones whose light grows faint

Strengthen them and bring them home
To share in our bright
Shimmering prayers

Mona Lisa Lily/ Stargazer

2009-06-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

RedWinged Blackbird

2009-06-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

Shock of Pink, Dots of Yellow

2009-06-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

Click to enlarge

After the Rain

2009-06-01T06:10:00.000-07:00

Click to enlarge

Bright Beauty

2009-05-31T20:00:00.000-07:00

It Was His Religion

2009-05-31T09:42:00.000-07:00

I didn't understand him. My father would go out to that river every Sunday and would fish. My mother didn't allow anyone else to go with him. We would all go to service. What gave him the right to skip out of it? He called it his religion. I only remember my mother mentioning church to him once and I'll never forget his reply.

"I learn more out there at the water than I ever will from that man's preaching."

I wondered what he meant by that. What could he possibly learn from the river water? All I learned from the river was how to get my shoes dirty and my mother mad. Or perhaps how to catch a frog without his expecting anything.

But still, my father went out every Sunday.

Finally one Sunday I didn't bother asking my mother again. I asked him instead.

"Dad, can I go with you today?"

He didn't look up from the fly he was tying. He didn't look up to see the disapproving look in my mother's eyes. All he did was nod once and say, "Yes, I guess it's about time you try my religion."

My mother didn't have anything to say to that. She just pursed her lips and went back to getting my little sister's ribbon tied in her hair. I knew she was upset, but I didn't care. I didn't want to go to church today. I didn't want to sit in the pew and hear the same man talk about the same things again. I wanted to understand my father.

I helped my dad carry his equipment to the truck. It made me feel important in a way. I also felt a little out of place. I was so used to wearing my uncomfortable Sunday best on this day of the week. It felt a bit odd to be dressed in my play clothes.

It wasn't long and we were standing at the river together. He hadn't said a word. Once in a while he would whistle through his teeth as he tied a fly to his line. I sat on a rock next to him as he waved the pole over his head and into the water.

It was so still. There was not even a breeze in the air. The water was crystal-like and showed the reflection of the trees like glass. The only motion was my father and his line, and the slight ripple it made in the water. It was quiet. It continued to be this way for some time. Once in a while there would be a slight jerk to his line and he'd reel in a fish just like that. It looked easy enough to me. I could have fallen asleep if the rock I sat upon was more comfortable.

Then after what felt like an hour or so, he turned to me. "Come over here and try this out."

I took a hold of the rod and he showed me how to work it. It seemed easy enough.

Then I felt a little tug and my father told me to start reeling. So I did.

All at once the tension was gone and the line came in quickly.

I'd broken the line.

He told me to be more gentle. He told me that the big fish that bite are going to put up a fight, that I have to be patient and they will get tired before me.

Then he took back the pole.

And I resumed by position on the rock.

What happened next I will never forget. I will forever remember the way it was. There was a tug on his line and away he went. He was in the water! He kept a hold of his pole and started splashing through the water. I didn't understand it. What was he doing? Doesn't that scare the fish away? But there was still tension on his line. He headed down the river and I followed along the bank watching until he came up with a fish the size of his whole arm.

I didn't understand it then, but I never forgot it. Now I understand what made it a religion.

We may fight with things to the point of breaking, but if we have the patience to hold on, if we are gentle and submissive, we will come off conquerer. He had waited for the fish to get tired. He had kept his line from breaking. And he had won.

I didn't go with my father on Sunday again after that. I went back to church as Mother said. But I never forgot the experience and I never will.

Chocolate

2009-05-30T09:59:00.000-07:00

O my angel from heaven
I'm taken by thee
My heart is forever thine
Thou art finer than everything fine

For wherever I go
I have thy comfort
Whatever I face
I find thee by my side

To have and to cherish
To enjoy and to savor
Thou art my life
Thou art my love

Forever thine
Scrumptious, melting
Soft, delectable
Smoldering

Gulp

O, angel
Thou teasest me...

O my angel from heaven
Thy beauty and passion...
What sweetness thou bringest to me
What overwhelming satisfaction
Simply scrumptious...

I shall have another

Music

2009-05-29T10:05:00.000-07:00

Soaring Dreams

2009-05-27T13:56:00.001-07:00

Between my fingers
I hold the stem
A cloud of white
Is made by them

The tiny souls
Cling gently here
Soon to ride
The breeze, no fear

I close my eyes
Await a start
I make a wish
Within my heart

The wind whispers
My minds' eye hears
I arise within
Beyond my years

I take a breath
Then gently out
The tiny souls
Release about

My wish is taken
Upon the wind
They dance around me
Then off they send

My wish will follow
Into the sky
My heart soars also
And away I fly

Babbled Secrets

2009-05-26T19:00:00.000-07:00

I sit upon a stone
In the shade of the trees
Quite always on my own
I rest arms curled about my knees

The brook slowly flows
Along down beside me
A gentle breeze blows
I close my eyes and see

Sunlight filters in
Through waving leaves above
It dances on my skin
Encircling me in love

The brook babbles about
In a language I concede
The secrets in its quiet shout
Wisdom given, I must heed

Its whispers pierce me to my heart
I must endure, I must impart

For life goes on in spite of pain
I stand and face the world again

My Toes

2009-05-26T18:27:00.000-07:00