Those Three Little Words


I didn’t sleep well at all last night. I am a big dreamer now a days. Usually they are nightmares but last night it was an eye opener. Do you ever have those dead stop eye opening moments? I don’t know if it’s good or not but I have not had them and now that I have had one; it has changed my view and thoughts forever more.

 

It happened so smoothly, it inched its way into my brain so softly that I didn’t even feel it happening. One sentence stated at an earlier moment and now as I lay my head down to sleep for the night, comes to me, opens the window to the mind, and sits staring me right in the face.

 

There is no denying, no place to run, no more excuses. I have to accept. So this is what I dreamed of all night and it woke me several times. This morning I feel almost like a friend who has lost their best friend. I see you but I don’t know you.

 

I know all there is or I thought I did and now I look at you through a clean window and I see no streaks. The truth shines through and now I must relax within and quit all the foolish ideas that up until now I thought would always work if only I worked hard enough to make it happen.

 

It almost feels like the burden of guilt of over trying has been a weight lifted from my small shoulders. I can brush off the dead leaves and bare branches. I can smile and not feel guilt for not sharing in your thoughts. I can feel relief as I know where you and I truly stand in our small corner of the world.

 

I can flake off the responsibility of believing it is I who has to fix things that happen in life. This is not for me to do or decide. My whole being has but one thing I must still continue to do. I will continue to pray. Pray that God helps light the path you walk on and shows you that there is a better way to find what all seek in this world.  For me, I want to say thank-you God. I will now pick myself up and search for those three little words in life called; Live, love, laugh.

 

barn 2

The Fairy Tale


Fairy tales, lust and love. Somewhere in your younger years you thought of these three things. The dress in white. The man in the tux.ball-gown-empire-wedding-dresses_1

The days of thinking of no one else but him/her. The nights of lovemaking under the stars. The house, the babies, the laughter then the tears.

 

Why, why does this happen? You were so in love? If I had the answers; I may not be divorced today. I don’t know why things change. Perhaps the bills start things out. Companies having their handout for money.

 

Work and more work to make sure there is adequate money to cover bills, food, insurance, gas and of course; I could go on and on.

 

Somewhere the glitter leaves and reality sets in. Sometimes marriage counseling prior to the wedding helps. It helps set the goals of what each wants to bring to the relationship. Even then, this doesn’t always help.

 

The world is full of glitter in black masks.blackmask

It comes in many styles such as stress, overweight, insecurities, failure and many more. There is always someone out there leering near by, watching your eyes, and feeling your losses. They are there, waiting, tempting you to respond to their call.

 

A person at the bar, a hunk at the gym, a co-employee. They are all around us, and ready to make us feel better. When we are hurting or confused, not sure where we stand in a relationship; this is the time temptation comes along.

 

Now don’t get me wrong my friends. Not every person is devious. There are thousands of people who care and many who would not consider breaking up or interfering with a marriage. We do have to face the facts though. Life is delicate and easily breakable.

 

Don’t believe me? Take a look for a few weeks at the divorce filings. It is so sad to see many who have been married less than a year or even six months; filing for divorce. It sometimes appears that there surely was an argument and instead of seeking help, they sought a divorce attorney. You know, the I’ll show you attitude?

 

Then their are the relationships that have lasted fifteen, sixteen and forty years that have filed. The mid-life crisis? What is that exactly?

mid·life cri·sis
noun
noun: mid-life crisis
  1. an emotional crisis of identity and self-confidence that can occur in early middle age.

 

Sometimes this can occur from The Change. Wow, what a phrase, but so true.

Hormones bouncing, hot flashes, the kids are moving out. Suddenly it is just the two of you again and now what do you do? Weight gain has occurred. You have time to go to the gym. You get in shape. People notice. Your head swells like a big balloon.big

Guys flirt, you flirt back. It feels good. Darn, how long has it been since this has happened?

 

Well, as you can see, there are many reasons that the fairy tale can go up in flames but it doesn’t mean the light has to be snuffed completely. You just have to get the help needed for the issue and without delay. First, you may ask yourself, do I still love the person I have been involved with or married to all these years?

 

If the answer is yes, then there is hope. Pray, seek counseling, change the routine at home. Smell good, look good, think of him/her before yourself. Have a picnic in your bedroom with candles. Put the kids to bed early. Put the cell down, turn the TV off. Change it up. Do what ever you need to do to salvage what was good.

 

If you have tried your best and it still fails, well, this is the ultimate suck-ass situation of all. How do you go on? What about all those years spent together. I don’t have the answers, but I can offer suggestions. Stay close to your family. They do love you. They will listen. They will emotionally support and encourage you. Lastly, don’t forget to pray. Prayers are answered. God listens. God feels your pain. God knows your future.

 

Enough said for tonight.

I dedicate this to a very special man in my life.

I love you. R.W.

 

Daily Prompt/One Word Prompt


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/captivating/

The word for today is; Captivating

cap·ti·vat·ing
ˈ
adjective
  1. capable of attracting and holding interest; charming.

A delicate, dainty princess with golden locks skipped her way to her favorite place in the forest.download Each day after breakfast her nanny dressed her in her best clothes and allowed her to stay far enough ahead, but still be seen, and the two walked to the forest.

The nanny knew this child had a special spirit. A gentle spirit, a spirit that others wanted to get to know. The animals of the forest would see her coming and signals would be heard while the gathering of friends stood around; waiting for her arrival. When she came upon a soft, wispy, grassy spot, she lay her red checkered cloth down along with a basket.

One by one, she would take out plastic containers filled with treats for her friends. Corn, peanuts, lettuce, all packed by her nanny. The animals gathered closer waiting for her to speak. She had a captivating voice and their visits lasted an hour each day.

 

df1f387c8e831fcbc6a6f425a2c6ad60

Daily Prompt/ One Word Prompt


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/conjure/

The word for today; Conjoure

con·jure
verb
  1. 1.
    call upon (a spirit or ghost) to appear, by means of a magic ritual.
    “they hoped to conjure up the spirit of their dead friend”

 

Every day as I drove to work; my eyes gazed the old, white building.  Repeating thoughts arose. Who lived there? Why is it still abandoned? Doesn’t someone care?

The thoughts continually went back to my childhood where I wondered the same things about myself. Why did I live there? Why did they make me feel abandoned? Why didn’t they care?

I knew something was different by the age of three. When I tried expressing myself at that age, I was told to shut up. If I cried, they put me to bed. If they went out, I had a babysitter.

As I grew a little older, I learned to have imaginary friends with me at all times. There was Betsy. She was my favorite. She always greeted me with a big smile. She enjoyed my company and we played lots of games.betsy 2

Then there was Betty Sue. She let me lay my head in her lap when I was tired or sad. She would run her fingers through my blonde, curly hair until I fell asleep or felt better.betsy 3

Then there was Bobby. Sometimes Bobby scared me. I asked him different times to leave me alone; but he wouldn’t. He seemed to always show up when I was sitting around just thinking. It was like he could read my mind.betsy 4

He would come into my room on a weird kind of looking sled. He would spin upside down and do tricks I could never do. He would show me visions of mazes and tell me about this old, white house that set right in the middle of the screen. I never recognized the house; but the paths of the maze felt familiar but confusing.

It was a Fall, crisp day. I had worked too many hours so was told to go home early and return on Monday. I was driving and saw the familiar site. I glanced at my watch. Yes, I have time. I am going to get this settled. I am going to find out the story within the walls.

I pulled up the dirt, curvy driveway. I turned off my engine and sat there looking dead on the white house. Quiet, quiet screamed all around me and yet there were these invisible fingers prodding at me saying, Come on little one. Step onto the porch steps. Learn the truth.

I took my keys out of the ignition.  I locked my purse inside the car. With keys in hand, I pulled my sweater a little closer to me. I walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, until I reached the first  porch step.

I turned back as if afraid of what I couldn’t see, but once again, those fingers prodding at my soul. I stepped onto that first step, then another and stepped onto the porch landing. The door slowly and creakily opened.

I could see a golden ray of light and without hesitation; I followed it. Once inside, my fears left. The prodding fingers disappeared. My soul felt lightened. There on the walls of this abandoned house were the answers to all of my questions.

betsy 6

DREAMS


DREAMS

What do you dream about when you lay your head down and sleep?
Do you dream of people gone to heaven?
Do you dream you are a child?
Are your dreams; real and deep?

What do you feel when you wake from a dream?
Have you felt tears on your pillow?
Have you felt you were actually there?
Do you feel you closed the open seam?

Did you see visions of your loved ones?
Perhaps a parent or a spouse?
Or did you see the dragons,
Chasing you until they won?

Our dreams are our real thoughts
Most we can’t express.
We keep them in our memories
Because this is all we got.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

 

dreams

Dream or Reality


Dream or Reality

Does Bonnie really
Fly over the ocean
Or is this a dream
A fantasy
For which we can
Visit when life
Gets stressful.
A way of returning
To a time
Once more playful
Funny and innocent.
As we lay in bed
Blankets tucked around
I think there really is
A Bonnie that
Flies over the ocean.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

 

sparkle angel

The Living Thing


The house stood back a mile from the road. Gravel covered the path leading to the rickety, front, paint-free door. Shutters slammed against the weathered siding in the strong winds. I stood in front of the once famous estate.

Now people-free. Only the spirits of once residing residents remained. It was if you could almost see them, their moans were so loud.

I went up to the door. I didn’t have to turn the knob, as it gently rocked to and fro in rhythm with the wind. I stepped over creaky boards and stood in the middle of the living room.

Furniture draped with off-white sheets. Spiders taking care of their young in beautifully built webs. What was once heavy velvet draperies, now hung to the side, shattered and torn.

Above the fireplace, there was a large oil painting of the couple who had built this home. He had built it as a wedding gift for his beloved.

He wondered what stories the painting could speak of. He was sure he would love to hear them. He walked into the kitchen and everything was in its place. Nothing standing on the cupboards, the table empty.

The strange thing though was, although there was no living person around besides himself, there obviously was something living within these walls.

When you looked up and down at the walls and the windows, they were graced with beautiful Ivy. It had made its home to the entire room.

Looking to mate with each vine, they had intertwined themselves and weaved a delicate scene display all across the ceiling.

He stood back a little as this wondrous sight gave him slight shivers. He took one more glance and then turned and walked towards the strong, detailed oak stair case.

One step in front of the other, he made his way to the top. The Ivy had extended its beauty into each of the four bedrooms, gracing the doorways, running through the floorboards, and covering each glass window pane.

He saw something. He walked closer to the glass. How intricate, he thought. In each pane was a form. Yes, a human form. There were multiple head shapes of people. He remembered the paintings on the stair wall and rushed back to them.

Standing and mentally memorizing each photo, he went back to the room with all the windows. Oh my gosh, he thought, these precisely woven vines had carved out faces. Each of these faces matched the photos he had just looked at on the staircase.

He was astounded. He stood their taking in all the details when suddenly he felt a choking hold around his neck. He instantly placed his hands to his throat, trying to force what had a hold of him.

He squirmed and twisted but with each turn, the rope got tighter. With all his might, he thrust himself backwards. He fell with such force, he nearly knocked himself out when his head hit the floor.

He sat up and looked at what had grabbed hold of him. Ivy, Ivy had tried to attack him. He scrambled to his feet and he could hear moaning. A moaning of someone starving. It was as if the stomach acid was churning from lack of nourishment.

This house wasn’t haunted. The souls of each person whom once lived here, were still alive within the walls. The Ivy was their guardian, nurturing, feeding, and training them.

He turned and ran out of the house as fast as he could. He never looked back and he never returned.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

 

 

I Beg To Be Me


cake

I BEG TO BE ME

Brought up with lace and grace

Manners of gold, hands to hold

A prince’s wife, for the rest of his life

Delicate flower, money holds  power

Dresses galore, a closet for more

And yet this child, never came wild

No chasing dreams, no wearing jeans

Cries every night, when no longer bright

“Let me be me, oh please”

Let me  out of my agony.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

06/22/2016

The Pink Roses


She bent down to smell the flowers, pretty pink roses. These were the only ones who seemed to want to come alive and search for familiar faces. The other flowers didn’t do as well, nor did they make quite the impact on those who admired them.

Her husband had died two years ago. She could remember it like it was yesterday, sometimes. When she was sharp as a tack, she grasped and held close to her heart everything she could remember about Tom, her husband. When days were bad, she sometimes wondered why she was in her front yard with her house coat on.

When she and Tom were in their middle ages, they became interested in gardening though some friends. They had been invited to see films at their local library on different varieties of flowers and vegetables they could grow in their area and when to plant.

The favorite flower to plant was the rose; pink roses. They planted many other types of flowers and even tried their hand at growing vegetables; but with their health problems already started, they decided it was too much work to tend to the vegetable garden.

In no time at all their yard was covered in every empty spot with rose bushes. Dwarfs, climbing, yellow, red and pinks. They would tend to them as if they were their very own babies. I believe in their hearts; they were their own children. After all, the children they had between them were grown and all living on their own.

Tom’s favorite pink roses were the ones at the edges of the porch. Every evening the two would partake of their coffee on the porch. While they smiled at each other, and sometimes held hands, they would sip their coffee and inhale the beauty surrounding them.

Life isn’t always beautiful though, and for these two special Senior Citizens; it was no different. Tom became ill. Oh, it seemed like nothing at first. A cold, perhaps a little flu mixed in. A week or so, he would be better. This story did take a left turn, as it spun out of control and Tom ended up in the hospital with double pneumonia and within a week passed away.

Oh how she missed his eyes and his smile. The rooms sang songs of silence as she wandered through them one by one, trying to figure out or remember how to go on. Life became hard for her. Tom had made wonderful arrangements. She had no worries. It just wasn’t supposed to end up this way.

She and he had made arrangements years ago, that they would both leave together. Neither one would go before the other. Now, here she sat through cold winters, watching the cardinals eat their seed hanging from the trees. She watched the snow gently fall, creating streams of diamonds from the skies.

She waited patiently, sitting quietly, looking out her window and when the good days arrived, and the buds appeared on the branches, she would go outside and bend down to smell the heavenly fragrance of the pink roses, her Tom and  her planted with love.

 

pink roses 2