Blog of the Year 2013 Award

has nominated me for the Blog of the Year 2013.Blog of the Year Award 6 star jpeg

I was so honored last year when I won this very nice award. Excitement filled me to win any type of award for my writing.

When I started writing a year and a half ago, it was because God told me to. I had never written anything other than petty marks on my private note pads.

Even today I am humbled and honored to receive this award once again. I have made so many friends. I never in my wildest dream thought Jesus would ever bless me with loving friends who take the time to read my thoughts.

So many of you have been put through repeated stories of my woes of my brother’s illness. There have been those this past year who have asked me to try to write a book. I am still waiting but I do know that it is in the publishing department and to be out by Christmas.

I will feel like the biggest gift I could ever leave my three children is a part of my thoughts. Something for them to go back to and look through once God has taken me  home.

Some of you have asked me to test the waters in writing poetry. I have learned that I really enjoy this part of writing. I have played around with my writing, adding music to it, changing the words of the original song to how I am feeling that day.

I have been able to start a music page and a quote page. I have done quite a bit of healing through my writing. God knew that I would be a better woman by writing and he has never led me a stray.

Thank-you God and thank you friends for allowing me to be myself here at WordPress.

pink starsAnd now for the nominations. There are so many but I will randomly pick out a few.


lenwilliamscarver x



babyjill7…Marilyn Griffin


Thank-you again Alyson!


A New Chapter of My LIfe Blossomed

I don’t know if any of you would be interested or not, but I thought I would put the word out here to you.

As you know if you follow me I have been writing more and more poetry. I decided I wanted to save them in one spot and hopefully later on I will publish a book on my poetry.

There is nothing more than my poetry I write on here. No stories or funnies, just poetry. This way it will be easy to pull all my work and gather it together.

My editor told me that the book Dahlia will be published very soon. I am so excited. I am working on the book about my brother’s life journey and now this. I am not doing it for any reason, just for myself, and hopefully I can help someone smile or remember something about their own life or past.

The link is at Face Book. It is called, Terry’s Thoughts in Poetry.

Well, there it is, out in the open. So if any of you want just a page of poems come check it out! Thanks for reading dear friends.


Weekly Writing Challenge: DNA Analysis

DP Challenge

Your challenge is to take something intensely personal — the bits and pieces that make you YOU — and use them as a springboard for a post that makes a larger point and resonates with lots of other readers.

mirror blocksWhat do I see when I look in the mirror? What do you see when you look at me? Two good questions with entirely different views; I am sure.

When you see my face, maybe you see a round, chubby face. Not very many wrinkles. Maybe a pudgy nose surrounded by short hair. A nice sister, a caregiver.

Pools of memories

Deep as the sea

You see in my past

And where I am meant to be.


When I look in the mirror I am disgusted. I see a fat, round face. Plain with usually no make-up. I see would haves and should haves. I end up comparing myself to some dorky model on the cover of a magazine or TV.

This causes  a snow ball effect forcing me to shatter the glass and walk a way.broken window

When I look at me

I wish for more

I wish for magic

To change my core.


It is crazy, the things I do. The thoughts I have. I don’t take the time to make that check list of what I see very often. Usually when I do, I go on a spending spree and try to make myself feel better.

Knowing why I feel this way about myself is opposite of knowing how to fix it. When you friends make comments on my blog, most of the time I am shocked, pleasingly shocked. I just don’t see it.

When I read the Freshly Pressed I know that I am not a deep thinker. I don’t pull things out of my hat to write about or make a statement. My life is my statement. If I just write about my deep feelings about what I do in my life, it makes me feel more content.

Being honest on  paper is much easier than looking back at my reflection in any mirror.mirror No one is looking at me and it is so easy to write my thoughts. Sometimes I want to kick myself in the rear for being a foolish old woman for thinking such negative thoughts. There is no sense in it. But old habits and old words still haunt me today.

What I am doing is taking a segment from your comments and saying them to myself; changing my thoughts. I am improving, and for this I am glad. So on that report card, I will give me a big check mark on the box marked; Improving.

Weekly Writing Challenge: I Remember, DP challenge, Weekly Writing

The challenge: I remember

You’ll need an egg timer or a some sort of stopwatch for this challenge. Set a countdown timer for 10 minutes, choose one of the writing prompts below, and just start writing. Whatever you do, don’t stop for ten minutes. Keep your fingers typing. Write what you remember. It need not be accurate — it’s your memory. Do not judge. You got this.

  • Your earliest memory. Capture every detail. Document the quality of the memory — is it as sharp as HDTV or hazy and ethereal, enveloped in fog? Write for 10 minutes. Go.
  • Your happiest memory. Tell us the story of the happiest memory of your life. What happened? Get it all down, no detail left behind. The clock is ticking — get writing.
  • Your worst memory. Record the pain, the anger, the shame, the terror, the hurt. You’ve got ten minutes to relive it. Keep your fingers typing.
  • Freestyle memory. Write I remember at the top of your post, hit start on the timer, and write about the first memory that comes to mind. Ten minutes. Don’t stop.

If ten minutes feels too long, start with five minutes. If ten minutes seems too short, go for 15 or 20 minutes. You can shape this challenge to suit you. Then, once your post has had a chance to sit for a day or two, revise it and shape it as you see fit. Cut the dross. Trim the fat.

You can do the freestyle memory exercise every day if you like, as you mine your memory and write what comes to mind. Use the freestyle memory prompt or any other of our Daily Writing Prompts and go for ten minutes without stopping. Don’t judge the output, just keep practicing.


I Remember

I remember living in the big white house. It had a huge wrap-a round porch in front. It had great big bedrooms. I slept in one of those monster bedrooms upstairs with no one else around.

I remember being scared and sticking my head under the covers. Seeing shadows bouncing on the window panes, I was so sure monsters were waiting for me to go to sleep so they could come get me.

I remember walking from that house through the alley down to my aunt’s house. A friendly little dog that I thought was big and vicious used to come out to greet me as I passed by. I remember standing, frozen in form, screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to save me from the big bad wolf.

I remember when Mom and Dad first married and they moved into a two-story house. I do not remember Al at all, which I find rather odd. I do remember hiding behind the big chair in the living room when I was five years old. I can still hear my real mother and my step-mother arguing in the front doorway. They were talking about me. They were discussing why and why not I should not be allowed to go with my real mom. I can remember being real scared.

I can remember when my parents moved to a little white  house on a lane. It was almost to the end of the lane and I became friends with so many of the neighbor kids. I can remember getting in trouble for playing the new game, Doctor and Nurse. I could never figure out why Mom didn’t want me to play that game, although now I do know.

I can remember getting off my bike at the little tiny store. Taking my earned change inside and buying a Hostess Twinkie, if I had enough money. But usually I was able to buy some penny candy. I used to buy Bazooka Bubble gum and entertain myself for minutes trying to blow the biggest bubble.

I also remember the big oak tree that took up half of one side of our tiny front yard. I can remember having Mom help me carry my home-made cradle outside with all my soft, cuddly baby dolls. I would play for hours it seemed. I was always the mommy . I changed their clothes and fed them from the invisible bottle. Do you ladies remember those bottles? You tipped the bottle and the white milk disappeared. Soon after that they would wet right through the hand-made diapers my Grandma used to make my dolls. I would have to change them again.

I remember getting a brand new Schwinn bike for my birthday but I got it taken a way from me for two-week. I had went with my friend without permission to the cemetery. She and I would lay beside the fresh graves and guess how tall the people were. Boy when I look back on that I think how stupid I was.

I remember lots of giggles and reading and skipping rope and my hoola hoop. Life was free. It was easy. There were no concerns of late bills, or broken hearts or even death. Life was what I can dream about today and yearn for once again.

Time is up on the writing exercise.dscf4163

I Couldn’t Help But Cry As I Read This

Dianne Cogar writes amazing poetry. I have been following her writings for some time now. We have recently friended each other on Facebook.

I had seen one of her comments and poems tonight of where she paid special tribute to certain people, and I asked her if she ever got bored or had time if she could do something for me, for my memories of my brother, Al.

I waited for a reply back and went to her Facebook profile. Here is her link;

Here is a peek at who she is;

I will never forget the gift she gave me within the same evening. I told her I was going to share it with you and let you know that she wrote it for me and Al. Here is the poem.

Thank-you so much Dianne.

Dianne Cogar 11:03pm Jul 15
A heart-gift for Terry Shepherd …

Al, My Dear Brother And Faithful Friend
Emotions Drawn From The Heart Of Terry Shepherd
20 Revised by Dianne Cogar 13

One kind and loving brother, and a wonderful true friend–
Someone who cares deeply from the start to no end!
Your smile and your wisdom, it’s uniquely your own–
Still young at heart, though you’re now fully grown.

This life sometimes hurts, and heartache stands in the way–
Though you revive my soul, spreading joy on each day.
And as tears sometimes flow, happiness will befall–
Empowering my emotions with this life I recall

You’re a man with a heart, and your life’s full of wonder–
Though sometimes confused, and you’re sometimes in blunder.
But God has a plan, Al you’re special to me–
You bring to life purpose and He filled you with glee

There’s two loves in your world, both are true to your need–
And they keep you content, yes, they keep your mind freed.
Old vintage cars; such amusement and desire–
And that sweet cocoa-cola that often takes you even higher!
Such small things to ask for, and even smaller gifts to give–
But these humbling pleasures are what that makes heart live.

Al, you’re a treasure, though still a diamond in the rough–
But together we survive, and together we grow tough.
And there’s no other brother that could make me feel this glad,
For all the memories we’ve shared, and even those that go bad

Yes, God has a plan, and he touches my heart,
From the fresh new of dawn, to the eve we must part.
And though worry I do, and the tears sometimes fall,
I know my problems are few– in comparison they’re small.

So let’s just go on with each day, and each in thankful belief–
And I’ll trust with my heart will come peace and relief.
You just smile at me always, with your eyes bright and true–
And never forget Al, that I’ll always love you!flashing star

Daily Prompt; Opposite Day,DP, Daily Prompt

If you normally write non-fiction, post a photo. If you normally post images, write fiction. If you normally write fiction, write a poem. If you normally write poetry, draw a picture.

(New) photographers, artists, poets: show us OPPOSITE.

I tend to do a little of each of the topic above, and so for today I will write or create a new poem.

My day starts at seven

I leave my bed of heaven

I rise and get up Al

You know he is my pal

I fix breakfast for him

And drink my coffee and grin

For today is a brand new day

Hoping things really go ok

Get Al dressed and on the bus

Wish I could forget the house, the fuss

But I can’t ignore the mess

I really do confess

I clean until it shines

Hang up clothes upon the line

Looking at the clock

Oh my I so forgot

I need to eat my meal

So I take a banana and peel

And have one more coffee to go

Where has the time gone, I don’t know

It is after lunch

And I am tired a bunch

Time to think of dinner

Better pick a winner

So Al will eat it all

And not get weaker and fall

I am just going to take a bit for me

Sit at the table sipping tea

Time to get cracking

Don’t want my skills to be lacking

Dinner almost ready

Don’t falter always be steady

For here is the bus with Al inside

Taking him up the ramp holding the door wide

We are safely inside for the night

Al looks at the table with delight

We sit down and say our grace

And then we dig in filling our face

God stayed with us each today

Both of us remained out of harm’s way

Now tucking Al in his bed for the night

I fall in my bed and wish all a  goodnight.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd


Daily Prompt; Keep Out, DP, Daily Prompt

Who is the one person you hope isn’t reading your blog? Why?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us OUTSIDE.

I can look at this from standing inside the circle on the perfectly centered dot. As I turn around slowly I can see people looking inside. They have their hands cupped around their eyes. Their noses are squished into the glass bubble. I can see stretched nostrils and I think that one guy way over there has a stringy booger hanging out his nose. The man standing next to him needs to trim those nose hairs.funny-gif-people-inside-bubbles

I hold the key. Each week I go to each person and get a keen look at his purpose of reading my precious blog. As all writers of blogs know, this is our domain, our pit, our space. Just not everyone is let in to see our private thoughts.

I mean, for heaven’s sakes, what if I was pissed off at my neighbor and I decided to knock her off her high horse by writing terrible, nasty, and rude things about her? What if she never forgave me? What about the next time I needed that cup of sugar? Would she slam her door in my face?silly neighbor

I see Mrs. Piggly Wiggly standing right dead smack in front of me too. She is the one with the longest and most pointed nose I ever did see. But hey, when I am short on staples in my cupboard, she always comes through.

Oh wait, over there is the President of the Bank I belong too. No, you won’t see me on the top list of Board Members. Well shucks, if the truth were known I am two months behind on that darn mortgage payment. He don’t know it but I have caller ID and I can tell when that snooty bank is trying to get in on my party line. All they ever want to do is just plain old harass me. Wonder what he is doing here? Probably trying to see if I am really speaking the truth. I have given so many reasons why I am late, I bet he just wants to see if my blog says I am really out partying it up every night of the week.funny-little-girl-president-costume

Turning more on my center point, I see my kids. Now most of the time I don’t care if they read my blog or not. I can admit it sort of hurts when only one out of three read what I write. But there is advantages to them not reading my words. Some of the time I am speaking about them. I am not kidding. I love my kids more than life itself, but gosh dang, kids can really get on an old woman’s nerves at times. Sorry kids, just consider it the fact I am going through the hot-flash change of life and tomorrow I promise I won’t feel this kids when they were young

As I complete my turn in my little center of the bubble I see one last group of people. I have never met them, but by looking at their warm smiles and seeing the truth in their eyes, I can recognize this group as my friends from Blogging World. Hi there, hey there, how are you all doing? I can’t believe it? You are all here, waiting to see my next post. Ready to give me a kick in the seat when I need it. Some of you boost my morale. Others of you give me a shoulder to lean on. Hey you, I recognize those ornery dogs. I know who you are. You there, I know you without a doubt. You are wearing a Captain’s hat. I know that you have sailed the seas many times. That lady there has humor written on the front of her shirt. I know you. I read you blog post the last thing before going to bed. Hey Jo, I would know you anywhere. You and I, we have shared some laughs, tears and sorrows together haven’t we. Each of you have something unique that you share with me. I just want you to each know you are always welcome into my bubble of friends

So in conclusion of this post I welcome everyone who has a warm heart, a soul that is true, family and friends. Welcome all to my part of the world.

Well, I guess there is only one that I would not want in my group. One who would not be welcomed and chased out with all of my might. This would be that toad. That ugly, big wart toad.toad

Daily Prompt; Tagline, DP, Daily Prompt

Often, our blogs have taglines. But what if humans did, too? What would your tagline be?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us ADVERTISING.

Oh wow, is this the time when I can let loose and brag on myself? You say it is? Oh my, what can I say about myself. Should I go way back? Back to the days when saddle shoes were hip? Or maybe back to five years ago when I was my own boss?

Alright, let’s see here. Let me give taglines about me, considered a human, who walks and takes up little space on this big, big earth.

Let’s start with witty. Yes, witty. Believe it or not, there was a time when I was quite witty. What is witty do you ask? I will be happy to tell you.

Witty means;

possessing wit in speech or writing; amusingly clever in perception and expression: a witty writer.
Some times you can see it in my writing when I make my stories about life and add humor to it. I know, you are asking when was that? Well, just go back and look. You can actually find them, I swear it’s true.
Another tagline may be, philosopher. I hear you laughing. I swear it is the biggest personality trait I claim as my own. Is your definition different from mine?
a person who offers views or theories on profound questions in ethics, metaphysics, logic, and other related fields.
I am always trying to write from the other person’s heart. I imagine myself in their shoes, their life, their circumstances. I try to figure out a way to help others by offering things to think about, a new idea, or maybe to just let them know I care.
One more tagline may be story-teller. I do have confidence to a point that I can write a story. Oh come now, everyone can write a story, tell a story, or even make up a story. What is a story-teller?
a person who tells or writes stories or anecdotes.
a person who tells more or less trivial falsehoods; fibber.
Now there is one thing about me that I am not, and that is number two. I am not a fibber, but sometimes I don’t tell the truth either. Instead, I just don’t answer. I absolutely hate hurting others feelings. It would just kill me to know that I turned your sunny day into clouds.sunshine_meditation
I think the last tagline I will use is Christian. Yes friends, I must stop here. I don’t want you to think that any of this tagging would ever go to my head.
Oh you say you are a Christian too? How wonderful, I love having Christian friends. What is a Christian? You have always wondered but were afraid to ask? Here, let me explain.
of, pertaining to, or derived from Jesus Christ or His teachings: a Christian faith.
of, pertaining to, believing in, or belonging to the religion based on the teachings of Jesus Christ: Spain is a Christian country.
of or pertaining to Christians: many Christian deaths in the Crusades.
exhibiting a spirit proper to a follower of Jesus Christ; Christlike: She displayed true Christian charity.
decent; respectable: They gave him a good Christian burial.
Now don’t think of me as a big snooty person. I have many friends who are not Christians. I have friends who believe there is no God at all. And I ask myself, who am I to judge? This is not my job.
We all meet for different reasons. Some of us cross paths because we are needed in each others lives. Others are passing through the night but end up staying day after day. I believe we are all here for a specific reason, so I try to always keep an open mind and ask for God’s protection to always keep me safe. You just never know when you may meet a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Well, I guess this is about it. I have bragged on myself enough. Actually this was a truly difficult write for me. I do not make it a habit to  take a good look at myself and have to figure out what may or may not be my good or weak points.
Did you enjoy your walk with me on a few chapters of my life? One little secret, that I haven’t told anyone. You over there in Switzerland, or you in Africa, and you over here next to my state, or my friends in the South, oh, and you in New York and California; lean in and believe me when I whisper in your ear. You light up each of my days. I am so lucky to have wonderful friends.
Alright, let’s all hold hands and take a bow. One, Two, Three, Bow.

Daily Prompts; Bookworm

Down Into the Basement, DP, Daily Prompt

Tell us about the last book you read (Why did you choose it?

Would you recommend it?). To go further, write a post based on its

subject matter.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us WORDS.

The last book I read was called, A Child Called It.

Spoiled Food

Spoiled Food

dreams and wishes. 62/365

dreams and wishes.

It is written by Dave Pelzer. He is actually writing about himself.

Can you not hear

Me screaming

From my dark  room

You have given to me

Can you not see the

Fear in my eyes

As you throw me

A crumb to fill

My empty tummy

Can you please

Explain what I have

Done to deserve

This torture

Did you not want me

Was I born ugly or stained

All I wanted

Was to be loved.

Written by

Terry  Shepherd


I would recommend this book to anyone who has ever been abused in any way. It is about the strength that comes from deep within the soul to survive this ordeal and come out on top.

Daily Prompt; Unleash Your Inner Dickens, DP, Daily Prompt, Daily Post                                                      candle-animated.gif


National Poetry Writing Month is nearly at end. To celebrate it, try your hand at some verse.

Standing outside

Myself wanting

To fit in but

Every spot I

Try holds me

In fear creating

A backing a way

Back to the corner

I see labeled for me

I want more

I want what they have

But what is it that

Draws me to them

That I am lacking

Oh, you say

To only smile

And say a kind word

And people will

Come to me

And want to

Fit into my space

To know who I am

I will try as I

Have not succeeded

Being in their shoes

I will try to

Just to be myself………

Terry Shepherd