Be My Valentine
Magical, mystical
Heart beats a flutter
Dancing, prancing
Words all a stutter
Love in the air
Snowf…
Be My Valentine
Magical, mystical
Heart beats a flutter
Dancing, prancing
Words all a stutter
Love in the air
Snowf…
Well, That’s What I Heard
Mother’s grabbed their children’s hands and hurried and crossed the street. Men in business suitsto…
Mother’s grabbed their children’s hands and hurried and crossed the street. Men in business suits tossed coins. Teens laughed and sneered. Some even threw rocks. Mr. P is what he was nicknamed.
I heard someone call him that when I went into the grocery store to purchase my month supply of groceries. The government was good to me. I got ninety dollars a month for food. I lived in a room across the street from the store. My son owns the building. He went to a lot of trouble. He turned my one room into two. He took the closet and turned it into my own private toilet. He put in a used stool and a small sink. It had a lot of rust in it, but it was mine and I knew how to use a scrub brush. He don’t even charge me any rent.
Every morning I would get up and reheat the coffee left over from the night before. I get stamps for food but I do have to be careful. Every day I sit at the table my son gave me. It is pretty old, sort of wobbly. I only got one chair, but that’s alright, because it is only me. I had to put some paper under one of the legs so I didn’t knock my coffee over.
I watched the old man walking down the street. He wasn’t a beggar mind you. He was just hungry. I never did see this man hold out his hand one time like I seen those other lazy people doing. You know, those ones who could work but don’t feel like it.
No siree, Mr. P, this is what the store calls him, he goes looking for free food. Maybe he be lucky some days and the local restaurant will throw out some outdated bread or rolls. Old Mr. P will stand near by and wait patiently for something to eat.
My old ticker beats so fast when I see him wandering the streets. I just wanna help him so bad, but I can barely feed myself. One time I did get some cash for Christmas from my son. I took it to the store and bought a few extra things. I made up a Christmas plate and when I saw Mr. P go walking by, I raced outside and handed it to him. Yep, I just placed it in his hands. I didn’t give him a chance to say no. I just said, ” Merry Christmas Mr. P.”
You know that very next Valentine’s Day I found a card laying at my front door. Whoever slid it under the door didn’t sign it, but I always figured it was Mr. P’s way of saying thank-you. I still got that card. Nope, I won’t throw it a way. First Valentine Card I have had in years.
You know, I used to have life so much better. I was really quite a pretty thing, or so the guys in my station used to say. I was a nurse. I worked as a nurse in the Army, but one day I got a surprise letter in the mail. It pretty much stated I was getting too old. It said I had to retire, that I had done my duty.
I got a nice retirement out of it though and I really loved my job. Helping all those soldiers that got hurt. I made a lot of friends, I did. Yep, all over the world. I used to write a lot of letters but most of them are dead now.
My son handles my retirement money. He gives me this place to live. I guess I should be most thankful for the things he does for me, but I always thought getting old wouldn’t be like this.
Now old Mr. P, he is in the same boat as me practically. He served in the war. He was a damn good soldier, so I’m told. But he went and hot himself injured. He got hurt real bad. He lost his leg. Yep, that’s why he limps. He has a wooden stump. Sort of makes him walk a little funny. That’s how he got his name, Mr. P, short for peg leg.
He got sent home on a discharge. He did come back home and he took up living with his parents. His parents I heard was real poor. They took his money and promised him a place to live but they needed his money to help feed all of them.
Well you guessed it, they both up and died. No, not at the same time. When the Mom died, the Dad ended up in a home. The bank came and threw old Mr. P out because there was no money to pay the nursing home payments with. Yeah, can you believe it? They threw old Mr. P right out on his ass. Left him with his clothes and his wooden stump. They didn’t even try to find him a place to live. Well that’s what I heard. That’s why you see him walking by all the stores each day. The poor man served his country, and matter of fact, so did I, and yet look where we both are now.
Yeah, I guess life isn’t what we think it will be when things happen, but we got to do the best we can and hopefully the good Lord will look down on us and smile. He will keep giving me a roof and poor old Mr. P some food. Well, that’s what I heard.
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It’s Valentine’s Day, so write an ode to someone or something you love. Bonus points for poetry
Who is my wife
I love you so
And this you know
The day we met
I had to beget
I fell in love
And gave thanks above
You looked at me
And then became we
Then we married
Single life buried
Children came
And then we named
Three together
For ever and ever
I have ner regrets
Of our lives as yet
I love you so
And will never let you go
Thank-you my wife
For coming in my life.
Happy Valentine’s Day My Love
Terry Shepherd
02/14/2013
Tomorrow is the big day. A day for sweethearts. Are there other relationships that you can give candy to if you don’t have a sweetheart?
I am considering stopping tomorrow at the store and buying my brother a box of candy. Not one of those mushy heart shaped thingys, but just a nice box. Do you think he would think he would think I was nuts? Or do you think he would just enjoy the sweets?
Give me your thoughts so I don’t make a fool of myself. LOL
Hilda sat on her front porch chewing her tobacco. She knew that today was the big day. The day for lovers. The day to show how much you loved your soul mate. This was the day that she worked the hardest. The one day she could guarantee some hot and heavy petting from her dear old beloved man.
Hilda and Arnold had been married for over fifty years. The kids had been raised and all that was left now was to live out their days with no hassles. They had lived with Arnold’s parents for a few years before discovering this fine piece of land.
Sitting on the land was a house that was prettier than anyone could ever have laid eyes on. They bought it with a spit and a hand shake and moved right in. For weeks and months they spent every minute they had sprucing up the place.
Between him working at the local factory and raising young kids, they squeezed in hot romantic nights and work in their gardens. They had two gardens. One was for the eyes and the nose. The biggest flowers you ever did see grew here. The other garden was to keep their bellies full. They grew anything that would didn’t die within the first few days.
Every week when Arnold got his paycheck, the first thing they did was hide a twenty-dollar bill under their mattress. Then every Friday night you could see the entire family at the town restaurant ordering their favorite food; fried chicken.
Next they would get some meat and staples from the corner grocery store. After that you didn’t see hide nor hair of them until the next Friday. They had a good life. For every meal they ate together, they held hands and gave thanks to the good Lord for this fine food. Each night you could observe the kids kneeling beside their beds saying their evening prayers.
As with most couples the longer you are together, the less you enjoy those special moments in the bedroom. Hilda missed these times and always looked forward to Valentine’s Day.
Today was her day. Arnold had gone into town. He said he had some errands to run but she just knew he was in there picking out something just for her. She spat out the last of her chew and went into the kitchen. She took out the piece of meat she had been thawing out in the ice box and put some potatoes and carrots in it. Putting it in the oven she then proceeded to whip up a cake. She would carefully smother it with some icing that she had laced with some cherry juice to give it some spicy color.
While the cake was baking she ran some water for her bath. She added some rose petals from her rose-bush. She wanted to make sure she smelled real good for her man. She picked out her best dress and gently laid it on her bed. She checked the cake and it was done so after taking it out of the oven she carefully sat in her tub of roses.
She lay there thinking back over the years. She smiled as she remembered her life with Arnold. He had been good to her. He was a good father and they both enjoyed their grandchildren. They never had much but they had plenty of love and that was all that mattered to them.
After drying off and getting dressed she checked her hand mirror. Looking at herself she pushed some gray strands a way from her face. She noticed a few new wrinkles around her eyes. She had never worn make-up and was proud of her skin today as it had held up well.
For today she would not put her hair up. She would brush it out and leave it lay against her dress. She put her one and only brooch on her dress and smiled at her reflection. There, she was done. She looked her best.
Out in the kitchen she set the table with her best dinner ware. She had always saved the one clear candle holder that she and Arnold had received on their wedding day. She put a candle in it and then proceeded to make her frosting for her cake.
After everything was done she went back out on the porch and sat in her favorite rocker waiting for her man to come home. She must have drifted off to sleep because she was startled by something being placed in her lap.
She awoke and looked up at Arnold and saw him smiling. Sitting on her lap was a brand new box of chocolates. They were in a red heart-shaped box. On top of the box sat one red rose.
Hilda inhaled the beauty of the rose. It smelled so good. She stood up and placed her gifts in the rocker. She put both her arms around Arnold and gave him the biggest hug ever. Picking up her things she took Arnold’s hand and placed it in hers. The two walked in the house to begin their celebration.
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Two glasses touch
As the two gaze
Into each others eyes
Showing their love
Leg of lamb
Roasted potatoes
Fresh green beans
Topped off with
Strawberries n cream
9p.m the kids fast asleep
The house is so quiet
Only their breathing can be heard
Eyes locked with each other
Fingers touch
Toes against toes
Happy Valentine’s Day
To my beautiful husband.
Terry Shepherd
02/10/2013
The moon shines bright
Casting shadows on
The two who meet
Under the stars.
Secrets being whispered
Of desires from deep within
Passion coming to surface
As the two touch.
Feeling like it is the first time
Hands roam freely
Lips touch with fire
Eyes have locked.
He cups her face
She leans into him
He raises her soul
The two become one.
Back in their bed
They smile at each other
As they celebrated once more
Another Valentine’s night.
Terry Shepherd
02/10/2013
Do you ever feel like you do not fit in? You know, does your phone ring often inviting you to this or not? Does your phone ring just because someone is dying to talk to you?
I can remember when I was a kid and the phone seemed to ring off the hook once Mom got home from work. Friends from her work were calling or her and Dad’s friends were calling inviting them to maybe go out to eat.
When I got married and had three children at home, life seemed to be a big spinning top. There was something always going on. I had one and then two good friends that I did things with that included our kids.
There was always something going on. School activities, sledding in the winter, swimming in the summer. Taking the kids to their friends houses. Grocery shopping, laundry and cleaning the house.
Then one day the one good friend and I had a difference of opinion that led into a life long separation. I was down to one friend. The kids grew up and started lives of their own. I ended up divorced and I started tuning into more television crap and drama.
The television taught me that the excitement was found in being with other people. Drinking, bars, parties seemed to be quite popular. The way I looked was wrong according to the social media. I was not thin enough or tall enough. My hair products were not good enough. The right brand of make-up was not correct.
The media taught me that all of a sudden I was not good enough. For a long time I took the sound box and made it my own. I became quite aware of what God had made had many errors from the outer view.
I went through the outer change of life. I doctored the outer surface of me. I changed my
hair. Cut colored, tried a different look of clothing. It drew me some new head’s turning from some guys. The problem was that it wasn’t the right kind of attention that I wanted.
I tried visiting the bar scene a few times. With only ordering my diet coke I could not be the life of the party as some seemed to be. I finally quit that. I instead turned to the internet. Seeking companionship and new friends through various chat rooms. I talked to this one guy for over six months. Through an error in his chat a looked over fact came to sight. I was actually speaking to a girl.
I hate being lied to. It is my biggest pet peeve in the whole wide world. It takes no time at all to give someone my trust, but it takes for ever to earn trust back. I dug myself in my work caring for others. I worked many hours. When I would go home to my box size apartment, there was my computer waiting for me. I went about my business of doing the shopping thing and visiting my friend, but basically I spent my time with myself.
Now years later, New Year’s Eve and Valentine’s Day are the two ultimate days when I think about how I am alone. Other than that I have pretty much determined that I like being alone.
There are times I wish for a date or someone to go out to dine with, I am not going to lie. Getting married is out of the picture for me. I don’t want the training of a mate anymore, lol. I like being my own boss.
Writing has introduced me to so many people. I have gained the friendship of many. I have been blessed to have friendships that have gone even deeper. Meeting each other, phone conversations.
I don’t know why the media is based on a number. If there is any of us who have the slightest doubt of who we are, we can fall prey so easily to the hype and start feeling bad about ourselves.
Thanks to writing I have accepted there are things I can change. I can change my health to a point. I can get this body more fit. I didn’t say thin or glamorous , but fit. I can lower my blood sugars. I can even change the style and color of my hair.
But the fact is I can not change what I was made up of. My genes, my thought process is pretty much mine. I own it. I have discovered that I don’t need lots of friends. I have a few real close ones. I don’t need to drink, because truth be said, I hate the taste of the stuff. I don’t need to fit in, because I was already made perfect in God’s eyes, so I fit in just fine in his eyes.
I like going to bed when I feel like it. I like the silence of my life. I get plenty of noise when I go see Al. I get laughter when my family comes to visit. My phone does ring and it is friends who want to just talk. I am who I am. I help others when I can. I actually think the social media almost destroyed me, but thankfully I saw the light before it was too late.
Today, I will tinker around my house. Maybe change my sheets. I will do a load of laundry. I definitely will write. I probably will take a nap. I choose not to go out today, unless I get an invitation. I boiled some eggs and will make egg salad for supper. I will listen to some Piano Guy music.
It is alright, in fact it is fantastic, to say the words out loud. To jump and yell yes! I love being me. I like who I am. I go through valleys and mountains of course. But what is great about it is I have all of you to stand by me through the disappointments and joys of life. How much better can it be?