Picture it & Write/ Ermiliablog


http://ermiliablog.wordpress.comcolored eyepictureitandwrite2copy-1

I didn’t know what I was going to write about when I first looked at this picture. For Picture it & Write we look at the photo given to us and write about it.

Part of the reason we write about it is to expand our imaginations. We also exercise our brain, and I am going to be honest here and state that I love to share what I have written to the hostess of the site.

It is like giving a gift to your child and then watching with excitement as they open it. To see their excitement and be able to share in their squeals of delights is probably one of the biggest high lights of giving gifts.

When I read that this writing exercise has become too big, which is what you dream of when you begin a blogging site such as this, it was with great sadness that I read that some writers  post that are written for this particular exercise will not be shared with the hostess.

This made me sad, so there fore in letting you know that first off, I am so happy for you that your dream of this has become a reality for you, a big congratulations. For not being able to have the time to read each of these makes me sad like the photo you introduced.

Daily Prompt; Ode to a Playground


http://dailypost.wordpress.com

A place from your past or childhood, one that you’re fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial.

I miss the laughter

The fullness of the house

Kids everywhere

Never quiet like a mouse.

Parties for no reason

Foods being made late

Never time to think lonely

Always marking  calendar dates.

Watching my kids grow

From babies to teens

Sharing each day

This was definitely the canteen

English: Kids playground

.

Now they are grown

With kids of their own

My house is so silent

And I feel often alone.

This is the time

That I can explore

What life has to offer

So I’m sitting no more.

I miss this part of my life

And what it used to be

But life must move on

So now it is time for me.

Terry Shepherd

01/28/2013

Picture It & Write/ Ermilia Blog


tumblr two people

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.compictureitandwrite2copy-1

He had almost lost her

Lost her forever

To an uncontrollable force

Where he had no control.

He was sleeping

She was in slumber

It sneaked in with a vengance

It woke her with trembling.

Screams came from within

Deep in her loins

Fear took over

Freezing her in mind.

A call from a neighbor

Who was startled a wake

Soon the block was lit up

Light bursting as day.

Men breaking glass

Ripping holes in the roof

Ladders were erected

She was rescued.

Terry Shepherd

01/27/2013

FWF Free Wrote Friday; Inspired by Waiting Bridges


waiting bridgeThe sun was shining through the trees. Casting shadows that shimmered  through the leaves. The wooden plank delivered two souls in to one.

Standing at the far end, looking, shading eyes not missing any movement. She was waiting for the one who could fulfill every desire bubbling within her.

This is where the two had met at an earlier time. Each walking deep in thought. Looking into each others eyes as they passed. His brown eyes brought a spark to surface. Her blue eyes, were deeper than any blue waters he had ever seen.

Walking past each other, slowing down, stealing a glance back at each other. A pause in step; stillness all around, as their eyes locked on to each other. Neither daring to move, for fear the magic of the moment may disappear.

Slowly turning around, softly stepping towards each other. They come close enough to touch, but the only movement was the heart beats locking on to one another. “Hi, my name is Sean”. “Hi, my name is Autumn”. ” Do you walk this way often”? “Yes, every morning, but today is different. I had things that kept me a way until now”. “This is my lucky day then”.

He is so handsome, she thought. She is more beautiful than any summer day, he thought. Eyes looking into eyes, hands slowly reaching to each others cheek. Fingers caressing lips. The two drew close until they could feel the breath of the other. He tilted her chin up and brushed her red pouty lips. She returned his kiss by slowly opening her mouth.

” I have dreamed of you. You came to me last night. Your lips touched mine as you have just touched my lips. I am a virgin, and I have been waiting for my prince to come swoop me up into his arms and love me for the rest of my life” she softly spoke.

He bent into her ear, softly leading his tongue, outlining the edges. He bit ever so softly on her lobe, sending shivers racing down her spine. He stood back up and locked eyes with hers. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the grasses that wrapped themselves around the bridge.

He laid her down and she watched as he unbuttoned each of his pearly white buttons. She drank in the ripples of his muscles as he unlatched his belt and undid the silver buttons that protected his manhood.

He leaned over her and turned her neck to one side, and with hot breaths he kissed her neck. He knelt down and let his warm hands slide under her petticoat, sliding it down,exposing her garden to him.

He kissed her inner thighs with passion, moving himself closer to the offering he was about to receive. Within moments the two became one. The birds flew above the trees. The sky became bluer. The sun shone brighter.

Explosions of fireworks colored the forest. The flowing waters  beneath the bridge became calm. The breathing slowed. The dream became reality. Now as she stood at the end of the long bridge, shading her eyes, missing no movement, she waited for her prince to come to her rescue once again.

fwf-badge-pink

Daily Prompt: Race the Clock/The Daily Post


Here’s the title of your post: “An Offer I Couldn’t Refuse.”

365:277 The Ticking Clock

Set a timer for ten minutes, and write it. Go!

When I was a young child, I had a friend named Pam. Pam came from a different up-bringing than I did. Her parents loved her so much, they gave her everything and also gave into every whim.

My parents brought me up with tough love. I was guided by rules and regulations and love.

Pam was a friend I had made in elementary school. We went through grades K-6 together. She was beautiful. I can still see her in my mind, even though I have not seen her for so many years. She had brown wavy hair that reached half way down her back. Big brown eyes, freckles, and she was thin, where I was the curly blonde, blue eyes, and chubby, or as mom used to say, healthy looking!

Now when you place two opposites together,  you get problems. No problems for us two girls, but problems with my own parents. Every suggestion, and offer Pam  made, I never turned down.

We played together every summer.  I stayed at her house, she stayed at mine. Her dad and I worked at the same company. Her mother did not work, mine did. We would ride our bikes up town and go through all the alleys. We would stop at the now famous place that Al likes to eat at, and go inside to the soda fountain, and buy a milk shake and share it.

She had money and I did not, so she always bought. We would ride our bikes over to other little friend’s houses, and stop and play with them, never counting the minutes on the clock, before leaving.

One day her mischievous little mind suggested we ride to the cemetery, and I got on my bike with no hesitation and no looking at the clock first, and we took off for our new adventure. We rode all through the cemetery, reading many names. We would get off of our bikes and lie down beside caskets to see  how tall they were!  How stupid was that?

I have many good memories of her and me, but if I could talk to my mother beyond this universe, I am sure she would still be scolding me. Yes, I worried her, and I forced her to have to drive down to my friend’s house to find out if I was there.

I was punished so many times by having to be grounded from playing with Pam, but evidently, when I look back, the punishments were never severe enough, because when mom would go to work the next day, I would return to my friend’s house on my two feet, since only my bike was grounded!

I smile now, as I sit here thinking back, at the little things I did as a kid, but also look at the issues in the world today, and not coming home on time from a friend’s was by far nothing to the drug issues today, the bullying of others, and the fatal shootings.

If I could talk to my mom today, she would now look at me and say, I love you and be careful. Try to be home at the time that I have asked you to be. She would realize that being late was nothing to worry about, right? Or do you think because she loved me that she would still ground me and scold me?  Oh geesh, I bet she would still go to my friend’s house, looking for me, and then when she found me, I would be grounded from my bike once again!

Picture It & Write, Nov. 25th, 2012


The golden locks lying on the board

Reminding me of days gone by

Years of laughter, living life

As the adored and loving wife.

Babies being born, first one than two

Cuddling in my arms, feeling love flow

From their heart to mine

Realizing there is nothing more divine.

Letting go, stretching arms to finger tips

Walking them to school hand in hand

Letting tears fall as we allow the schools

To now teach our loved ones  their golden rules.

Graduation day is here and now

We realize our job has been complete

Then next we walk them down the aisle

We cry a little and also smile.

Now holding this tiny babe in our hands

Once again we burst with love

As we share our child’s child in our own two arms

Wishing a good life and for them no harm.

Yes, I was blessed with a good life

A chance to love, and share and grow

And as I look back before I die

I have no regrets nor tears in my eyes.

 

Plinky, 11/15/2012


Portrait of French physician François Broussai...

The Prompt is; Reflecting Back at Your Life, and What Would You Be Thinking.

Reflecting at the end of Life

Knowing the way my mind works, I think I would be thinking back to my kids and hoping that I had done a good job at raising them, and that they forgave me for my own errors, as I am not a perfect woman, mother, nor wife.
I would be fearful of leaving everyone behind, but yet excited about seeing Jesus, and finally able to sit by him.
I always have said I will die from smoking or my diabetes, so I will probably be cursing myself, for not giving up the smokes, or for eating too many sweets.
I will be talking to my mom and dad, and letting them know how anxious I am to see them again. My grandma and grandpa will be there waiting for me too!
Even though, I can do nothing about it at this point, I will be going over in my mind any debts I have left behind. Hoping I have everything covered, so that my kids will not be left with my burdens.
Finally, I hope and pray, that when you place me in that casket, that you do not place me on my back! You all know I get terrible headaches when I lay on my back. Put me on my side, you know I like to be different, and lastly, I pray that there are no roses at my funeral. Everyone knows that I am terribly allergic to roses, so if there are any there, I will know that I had not taken the time to make amendments with one of my enemies.
Lord, I had a great life, and you provided me with many wonderful opportunities. I am sorry for the ones I let slip by and thankful for the ones I reached out and grabbed. Thank-you Lord for the many wonderful friends I have made through my blogging. It was because of your nudging me, that I even began to write. I am so thankful Lord, that you have loved me from day one, and that you have forgiven me for all of my sins. I am ready Lord, I have made my peace. I am coming now to see you Lord. Amen

FWF Write Friday, Writing Raw With Author Rebecca Tsaros Dickson


Say My Name. Haven’t I heard others say my name for years now? Do I really go around saying my own name? Yes, sometimes I have done this in the past. My name, I said it aloud when I started my first year of school.

Teacher,”Please state your name.” Me,” My name is Teresa, but everyone uses my daddy’s nickname, Terry.” I repeated that process all the way through school, as we were forced to stand up and say our name and something interesting about ourselves.

What was interesting about me? I can remember standing there with my finger in my mouth, twisting back and forth as I could not think of something interesting about myself, finally saying that I loved to play with dolls and ride my bike.

I remember stating my name to the receptionist, when I was applying for my very first driver’s permit. At this point, I said it nice and loud and clear. I was almost an adult, and I was going to become a part of the rat race out on the highways, except for one minor change. My mother was going to be sitting in the front seat on the passenger’s side, screaming, watch that car!!

I remember another proud moment I was able to say my name. When I got married. In front of many guests, and the minister, I said my love vows to my husband-to-be. What a loving moment in my life, to hear myself whisper my name to the minister. Too bad the beautiful moment did not last into the twilight zone!

There was another time, that with much shyness, I barely whispered my name. I heard the words being spoken, please state your full name. I was being looked over and checked inside and out, to see if I qualified for a juror in an upcoming trial. To my delight, I failed their eyes. I did not want to stay over night in a motel, in case the case was not finished by the end of the day. I had a new baby at home, for Pete’s sake! Plus, you could not speak to any other human forms,and had to mumble your words to your own self. I have always been a chatter box, and asking me to be quiet for a 24 hour period was a working miracle not in progress.

Another time I remember standing in front of a judge, was when I was asking his permission to be divorced from the crappy guy I had once loved. What a fool I had been, and I had walked into that relationship, with only half-opened eyes. The judge asked me my name, and I said it proudly, letting him know that I was confident, strong, and that this man had not ruined my emotional well-being.

I heard my name announced from my lips as I was stating that I am truly Terry, and I will be accepting the position of guardianship over my brother, and the last time I said my name was yesterday, when I announced to the nurse at the nursing facility, who I was in relationship to Al.

I guess when you look back, if you are saying your own name aloud, it is for a very important reason. You are either confirming who you are, or introducing yourself, or maybe you just enjoy hearing yourself say your own name! By the way, my name in Spanish means,Teresa is the Spanish and Italian form of the name Theresa. In the English-speaking world, Teresa is often chosen by Roman Catholic parents as a reference to the Spanish saint, Teresa of Avla.

Plinky | terry shepherd


Plinky | terry shepherd.

 

  • Sniff, Sniff
  • Hi, I am Terry, and I am writing a short article for Plinky. A fun way to stretch the memories of my mind!!!
    campfire

    My two favorite scents are lilacs and firewood.
    Lilacs remind me of my wonderful grandma who had many bushes and in the spring she would ask me to go out and help her cut bouquets and bring them in the house. With the windows open and the gentle breezes flowing through out the house, the house smelled so nice. A small sharing with only grandma and me.
    The smell of firewood brings no memories of the past really, but I do love the sense of being with friends and family while sitting around the campfires, worrying about nothing, and looking up at the bright stars, hearing the noises of the night creatures. I can sit out by a campfire all evening long. I have searched for a long time for incense or candles that actually smell like firewood.