When I was a little girl, my parents encouraged me to sing. When they would drink a bit but still be able to function, they would take me to a building in Fayetteville, NC. I was in third grade. I had written lots of simple songs that were similar to those on the radio. Country…
Category: Youth
Innocence Betrayed
Green eyes shot serpentine spears of betrayal tersely into mineBlinding me by your lack of love and all I once deemed kind. Once to share my unlocked heart until misery maimed my soul,Reclaiming your “forever after”, with the razor tongue you stole. Untouched and pure was I inside for never had I loved before,You, my…
Slowly Cracking
Oh unholy time, save me from that which creepeth all too near,Enclose me not into a world, to wait in turn decay.For it is the sticky spiders’ web, my untimely senses do fear.Upon a Lilly pad afloat I wish to lie, until another day.From all, and all from me, sharing only nature’s sweetish kiss.Adorned butterflies…
The Lonely Sailor (Part 2)
For Part One click here (Reading time for Part 2 is 6 minutes and 19 seconds) Conscious of the thin sea mist that was clinging to my body, I licked my lips, tasting a hint of salt. My big browns were taking in an exciting array of individuals walking around the boardwalk. Among the men,…
Lonely Sailor (Part One)
I was stealing out into the darkness of the summer night at sixteen. My senses were still on high alert. I quietly close the basement door of my first unshared bedroom. My parents were lifeless, and when last I did dare to peek into their room, my father lay naked as did my mother on…
Saved From the Water
Wet sand slowly sinking beneath my weight there is a mugginess to the air it accompanies the endless rays of searing sun so anxious of what powers lay beneath the mystery of the ocean’s layers never grasping how to swim, yet the gravity of the sea calls to me Chilly is the rough briny water…
Her Hands Remembered
Wafer-thin like parchment paper was her aged and petite hands, In utter awe, I watched them fashion such a dance with magic. Smooth was the full, ample wooden bowl from a long history, Of the artful formation of her famously yummy buttermilk biscuits. Fingers old and steady, so familiar with each curve as she readies…
Fairy Circles
Freshly mowed grass from the day before glistened while the sun began to peek her head slowly into the sky, offering up the light of the day. I walk out gently, near the old rosemary bush, and hear quite the buzz gently surrounding me. The red hummingbird feeder without its sweet, syrupy nectar, hung empty,…
The Power of Smell
When I was in Elementary School, I was to attend PS 104. This unforeseen and dreadful move was swift, like a thunderous cloud burst assaulting the unexpecting Carolina blue skies. It came like a freight train through my little garage room with the red concrete floor in the middle of the night. My father was…
