Dear Beverly

Decades after I last saw you,
I wrote you a letter but didn’t
know where to send it.
I wanted you to know how
much it meant to me that you
included me in your family.
We met in 7th grade, and
soon discovered that we
were born a day apart at
the same local hospital.
Our mothers were
there at the same time.
We always joked that we
were in adjoining bassinets.

As we got to know each other
better, I started spending
nights or weekends at your house.
I never invited you into my home
in all those years that we were friends.
I was embarrassed and ashamed
at my father’s alcoholism and our
less than adequate living conditions.
I didn’t even know the word for what
my father’s troubles were and I didn’t
have the words or courage to tell you
how deeply it affected me.
And you never asked me why,
perhaps both of us too shy.
But being able to spend time
with you and your family,
even joining you on
vacations, was a nice break
and gave me a sense
of normalcy.

As we got older, we went
on dates together with
guys, you mostly with
Bill, who would end up
being your husband one day
and father of your boy.
Our lives took very different
paths after high school however
and we lost touch. You went on
to become an accomplished
nurse and I went the way of
spirituality and communal life.
Some years later we
reconnected back in Orlando.
You and Bill had divorced and
you were about to marry
another. I found out that
your father had passed
away from Alzheimers
many years prior when
he was in his fifties.
It took him young.

We met one other time
when I learned your
mother had passed,
but we drifted apart
again…never really
regaining the friendship
we had forged before.
And then came the day
I sat in stunned silence
as I read your obituary.
I never found out what had
happened…how your life
had ended. I hadn’t
used the opportunity
to let you know how
much you meant to me.
But I like to think that
love doesn’t have boundaries
and you know how much I cared.
Love, Gayle

I too tweaked the prompt today but this really impacted my life and I wanted to share it. I truly believe that all my loved ones know that I love them.

Our newest team member, Kelly, asks us to write love letters to someone before it’s too late or let someone know that we care for them over at dVerse Poets:  http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/27/im-going-to-miss-you-when-youre-gone/

Advertisements

Golden Rain: A Tree of Memories

Moonlight filtered through the gauzy curtains.
I knew the Golden Rain tree was just outside.
Memories washed over me,
climbing its branches, looking down from above.
 
I knew the Golden Rain tree was just outside.
How I love that tree, though now grown old,
bent with age, losing limbs.
 
Memories washed over me.
Remembering the cookouts, the laughter,
hearing its leaves rustle with an autumn breeze.
 
Climbing its branches, looking down from above,
I see Dad’s chair, vacant now,
some day the tree and I will join him.

Please join us as Mary instructs us on the Trimeric form today for dVerse Poets, Minding the Bar.

Six Scrappy Kids

six scrappy kids
at odds with
their world
and each other

fighting, bickering
knock-down-
drag-outs,
teasing, taunting
abusing, chasing,
running from,
running after,
screams and
jeers, tears
and fear

hair pulling,
pinching,
scaring and
hitting,
bullying,
demeaning

crammed into
small spaces
no elbow room
nowhere to turn
or take a breather

from each other

no place to think,
reflect..ponder
the world and
our place in it

a war zone,
no peace
except when
asleep

but magically
a miracle
was rendered

we grew up
we searched
we found
that we liked
each other

we spoke
and listened
and knitted
our hearts
close together

we are our
sangha
our dharma
our refuge
our peace

Over at dVerse Poets, Mary asks us to reflect on peace:  http://dversepoets.com/2013/01/05/peace-within-and-without/

Bygone Era

The Brownie camera
lays there in the
bottom drawer of the
secretary, not used
for half a century
now, abandoned for
the newer technology
that has made photo
taking effortless and
uncomplicated.

But the many
treasured photos–
of us all at the beach,
lined up neatly in the
front yard, spotted with
measles, playing with our
neighborhood pals
and at birthdays
and special events…
all those long ago,
dearly-departed days,
were taken by that
beloved Brownie.
It, as well as the
bygone era it
served to capture,
is so lovingly valued
and memorably cherished.

Neighborhood Friends

 

Nightmare

The cat without a name

Image via Wikipedia

I have a reoccurring nightmare where I am frantically trying to lock the kitchen door at the house where I grew up, while an unknown, sinister presence is fast approaching.  I fumble with the latch, opening and closing the door, and I am beside myself that I just can’t get it to lock!  My heart is pounding with fear as I realize the presence is drawing closer and closer through the outside darkness.  This dream has been haunting me for decades.  This is how it began:

It was the summer of my seventeenth year when it started–we were being “peeped”!  We were a household of four, cute sisters, as well as an attractive mother which, I’m sure, added to the appeal of being targeted.

One of my sisters had a couple of friends visiting one evening and they were all in the bedroom yakking and giggling when my sister spied a man’s face peering in at them through the open window.  Screams ensued, the man ran off and we tried to forget it.

But some weeks later, while I was reading in my parents’ bedroom one night (they were not home); I heard footsteps slowly approaching the window.  A brother and his friend were out in the living room, so I went to them and whispered urgently that someone was prowling around outside!  They stealthily crept out the front door and around the side of the house and surprised a guy that they then chased across the neighbor’s backyard and tackled to the ground.  He was dressed only in bra and panties!  After my brother threatened him with “stay away from our house or else”, he sent him packing and he never showed up again.

But it was the next incident that scared us the worst.  After falling asleep one night on our enclosed porch with one of our Siamese cats snuggled in next to me, I was awakened abruptly to find my cat leaning over my head, peering intently through the darkened window, growling quietly under his breath.  I froze with fear when I heard the now-too-familiar sound of foot falls, and then, with my heart pounding in my ears, heard the door knob being jiggled back and forth inches from my head!  Someone was trying to get in!  (Thank God the door was locked.  It was rare that our doors were ever locked in those days).  After a few suspenseful minutes where I couldn’t bring myself to move, the bathroom light suddenly came on.  I leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom where my mother had gotten up to go–and breathlessly told her what had happened.  That same moment, one of my sisters came home and I anxiously recounted what had just occurred.  It was there, where we were gathered talking, that we noticed the outline of large, dirty shoe prints on the living room carpet!  We tracked them through the dining room and on into the kitchen to find the kitchen door wide open to the outside!  He had actually come into the house within feet of where I had just been laying!

This episode began a series of events that started with someone providing my brother with a shotgun for our protection!  Our father was mostly an absentee one so my brother took matters into his own hands.

One evening he decided to lie in wait in the dark shadows of the backyard and see if our intruder would show up.  His ammunition was rock salt so it really wouldn’t do much bodily harm if he did manage to hit him.  Well, lo and behold, after a short wait, here came our guy!  My brother took careful aim from his hiding place in the shrubs and fired–hitting the backdoor!  The guy took flight with my brother in hot pursuit.  They ran down the street and around the corner where my brother again took aim and this time hit his target square in the buttocks!  At this point, our intruder really became frantic and sought sanctuary with one of our close neighbors, screaming that there was a madman after him trying to kill him!  When my brother caught up to them and set the story straight, the neighbor and he detained the guy until the police arrived.  This man turned out to be a different prowler than the previous underwear clad “peeper”.  I don’t remember if he was ever identified as the one who had earlier entered our home.

We had no further incidents after that and no charges were filed against my brother.

But the nightmare remains for me.

Wightrabbit's Blog

Words and Pictures from my Kaboodle on The Isle of Wight

writing in north norfolk

Writer of children's literature, short stories and poetry

Lady Nyo's Weblog

A woman writer's blog with invitations to other writers

Poetry Breakfast

Beginning March 20th, 2016 Poetry Breakfast will once again serve a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry related creative non-fiction such as letters to and from poets, essays on poetry, and anything else that might feed a poet and poetry lover’s soul.

Mithai Mumblezz

Thinks and again mumbles!!

findingtimetowrite

Thinking, writing, thinking about writing...

mindlovemisery

"We're all out there, somewhere, waiting to happen."

NavasolaNature

Nature needs Nurture

Whimsygizmo's Blog

poetic ponderings...parenting...procrastination...

Tao of Scrumble

A freeform way of life, love and everything

Sharp Little Pencil

Amy Barlow Liberatore... stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

silentlyheardonce

A Silent poet shouting to be heard

generaliregi

Romance of Five Clouds and Magical Poetry

kanzen sakura

South meets East: Poetry and Musings - words of the seasons

Poems, stories, paintings and more by Sharmishtha Basu

(Agnijaat, Agnishatdal, Agnijashatadalama, Indie Adda)

This, that and the other thing

Looking at life through writing and photography

jaywalking the moon

poetry by claudia schoenfeld

She's Writing

Poetry and Prose

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.

everyday amazing

spreading good cheer, fun & love for life

Michael's Lair

Just Write WordPress.com site

Björn Rudbergs writings

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

THE BeZINE

Be inspired...Be creative...Be peace...Be

bardessdmdenton - author- artist

Historical and Literary Fiction / Essays / Poetry / Reviews /Book Cover and Interior Illustrations / Pet Portraits and Other Commissioned Artwork ... "Life can't ever really defeat a writer who is in love with writing, for life itself is a writer's lover until death - fascinating, cruel, lavish, warm, cold, treacherous, constant." ~ Edna Ferber, 1885-1968, American novelist, short story writer and playwright

Soul Dipper

Spirit Builder by Design

Contemplative Moorings

The official blog of unofficial author Michael Marsters.

Ramblings From A Mum

This is my journey, my thoughts, my views, plain and simple and from my heart. Please travel with me and share, hopefully it will be an interesting trip.

bwthoughts

copyright 2013 - no reuse without permission ( see bwfiction.wordpress.com for fiction and fantasy )

"On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea"

All Is One With Our Creator

MyHeartBlog

Take Control of Your Health

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Wanjiku

poetic inspiration from life's simplicity

k8edid

Mumblings of a Middle Aged Madwoman

IN MY NEXT LIFE

if I go around more than once then ...

I Rhyme Without Reason

I live in words

Soul Speak

'You may say I'm a Dreamer, but I'm not the only one' ~ John Lennon

~ Dragon's Dreams ~

Carpe Noctem Quod Tempus Fugit!

Dreamwalker's Sanctuary

A Sanctuary for Enlightenment and Peace through Poetry and Inspirational Thoughts as we go through Life

Lafemmeroar

laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it

Lorna's Voice

Finding ways to make words sparkle

Olivia's In- Mind Whirls..

"It's all in my mind"

dVerse

Poets Pub

Leslie White

View artwork by Leslie White

jgavinallan

The best time to love...is when it is impossible///Stories of the heart-broken/shattered and sometimes mended

%d bloggers like this: