FWF, Writing for Kelly







This is a man

A very talented man

Who couldn’t speak

Communication weak

Stutter he did

Continually hid

Then one day he saw

A calling from God

He went and sat down

He made his first sound

Smooth as could be

Beauty drifted to sea

Everyone stood around

Some knelt and sat down

As the keys he did grace

A story took place

The ivory and black

Took all his fears back

As God showed him a way

Another way he could say

To open his heart I did see

A beautiful man before me.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd


FWF With Kellie; Focus on the Good


You are more than welcome to click on the link and write for Kellie on Fridays. This week’s topic is;



Stop. Close your eyes and think of the first thing that makes you want to smile.

Now, stay focused on that alone and write.



Memories of your face

Your smile, your eyes

When we chatted

Sipping coffee


Talking about the day.


Memories of feeling

Life was good

Right and complete

Happy,you were

In my life

Then and forever.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd




Writing for Kellie, FWF

Kellie has begun her Free Write Friday prompts again. I am excited about this. It stretches your brain, and she gives you a variety of topics to write about. Want to join in ? Go to this link;



Today’s prompt;

Memory Prompt:

Write about your earliest memory. Good, bad, happy or sad. Before you begin, take time to dwell in that memory. Absorb everything you can about it. What you see, what you smell, what you hear and mostly, how you feel. Let it resonate. Marinate your mind in that one moment. Then begin.


image 2


My earliest memory is something I have mentioned to elders in the family; but it was never verified; but in my mind, it is very accurate.

I was around the age of three. There were problems in my parents divorce and therefore, my brother, me and our dad moved in with his parents. My father slept upstairs and I don’t remember where my brother was.

I remember me still being in a baby crib and I still held a bottle to my mouth. I believe this to be true from the stories I have heard. My dad worked nights at a local skating rink and part/time at a bowling alley. He arrived home pretty early in the mornings.

Of course, me being young, I rose with the roosters. I don’t know if I entertained myself with baby thoughts, but I do remember throwing my baby bottle at my dad when I was ready to get out of the baby bed.

I remember him walking me down the stairway with my fingers wrapped around his fingers.

I always look at this a little confused. Dad must have loved me, or else he wouldn’t have had me in the same house with a separation in marriage in progress. I always held him with high standards throughout my life, because not many fathers back in those days took the children under their wing.

He was my hero, and when he passed away in 2007, I lost a big chunk of my heart.


Write About a Time When You Felt Loved


I write for Kellie Elmore, and it is a pure joy.


Feb. 17th,-Write about a time when you felt loved


I have told this story too many times; but here is an opportunity to tell it once again, for Kellie’s prompt.

My brother had Multiple System Atrophy. It is a terrible disease with no cure. His body started out with tremors, then falls, a cane, wheelchair and then bed bound. During this process, he lost his ability to communicate by mouth, or other variations I could think of.

Eventually, he ended up in his bed, unable to move any muscles. The one muscle that he needed the worst, was the heart, and it eventually stopped also.

Al, my brother, had issues. He was mentally challenged and he had always lived at home with our parents. Our father didn’t understand my brother very well, and a lot of times it was easier for the two not to be together too often.

Communication was not very good between the two, and there was love between father and son, but it wasn’t shown near enough. Our mother passed away, and then it was dad and Al.

Then dad passed away, and then it was me and Al. I took care of  him those seven years while we fought together the MSA. Al tended to look at me as some big boss. I hated that because I wanted him to see me as his sister. He saw me as an authority figure, and transferred his ill feelings from his dad to me.

All those seven years, I spoiled him rotten. I did everything in my power to show him I was not dad. I tried over and over proving to him how much I loved him. I never really knew how Al felt about me, and it disturbed me so very much; especially as his death was something we could not avoid coming.

As I said earlier, Al lost all muscle control. We don’t think about what that really involves, so I will add a few things it changed in his life. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move his head, arms, legs. He couldn’t blink or squeeze my fingers. There was nothing to signal except the rise and fall of his lungs.

I pretended that he could hear me. I refused to believe he couldn’t. You see, with M.S.A. usually the memory stayed in tact. I was told he probably would never forget who I was to him.

We went for several weeks with me reading to  him, watching TV with him. I knew he couldn’t see the TV, but I was pretty sure he could hear it. I rubbed his hand and told me how much I loved him.

One day as it was nearing a few days before his passing, something major happened in his and my life. Al spoke. It wasn’t fog; it was clear as a bell. He opened his eyes, which I hadn’t seen those baby blues for so long and he looked right at me.

He said, ” Sis, I want to thank you for being my sis. I want you to  know that I know you did everything for me you could. It is time for me to go to heaven. Remember one thing for me. I love you sis, and I will save a spot in heaven for you”.

I am crying as I write this. Those words meant more to  me than probably anything else in this world except the birth of my three children. The burning question that had kept me up for nights upon nights and had stressed over for so long, had been answered. He loved me.

I miss you brother dear. I will see you soon.


Writing for Kelly



Today’s write; A cinquain is a non-rhyming five-line poem that focuses on imagery and the natural world. Write a cinquain poem for Valentine’s Day


“See the apples on the tree?

Adam will you pick one for me?”

” Sorry, it’s against the rules

You know what he said.”

” But it’s Valentine’s Day and you love me.”


Written by,

Terry Shepherd



Writing Prompt for Kellie



I used to love to write for Kelly Elmore a long, long time ago. I think that when Al passed away, I tossed this to the side. You have no idea how thrilled I was when I saw her link on one of my friends, Marilyn’s, blog. I immediately had to leave a comment for Kellie. She let me know it wasn’t too late to still write for one of her prompts.

hello February | 29 Daily #Writing #Prompts

Day 14; Your definition of love


When I was a teenager, love meant all google-eyes, kisses, hugging and making out, going to the movies, or skating rink. Wow, to be that young and the entire world sitting at your feet for one day.

Today, being a Senior citizen, I look at love much different. Oh the kisses would be nice, if I could find someone to share one with. Going to a movie to see Risen, beginning this week would be a thrill. A couple of hugs  could be awesome.

The bigger picture of love for me now is, companionship, trust, being treated fair, sincere love. I am asking a lot aren’t  I? Well, we get a little smarter with age, and yet there is that kid in me still. So if I had a male companion, I may toss a snowball at him and watch him try to catch me and then we could both lay down in the white stuff and make snow angels. The one catch to that would be, someone trusting standing by to help us get back on our feet again.


To look out over the water

The two of us sitting on the dock

Listening to the waves and birds

Never glancing at the clock.


We would look in each others eyes

He would take my hand in his

I would place mine on top

And we’d share a little kiss.


He’d help me to my feet

I’d hand him his  walking cane

He’d wrap his arm around me

And we would turn back the way we came.


He’d open my car door first

He would lean in and kiss again

He would turn the music on

And I’d nuzzle against his chin.


Yes, this is what I dream

A love for me to be

A loving friend, companion

A love so pure and free.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd



center 14fwf-kellie-elmore-badge