Stacey watched the wind-whipped trees from her kitchen window longing to share their obeisance. She ached to bend her will; to sway before her maker; to prove her worth.
Mother’s taunts replayed. “You were always a strong-willed tart. I despaired of you ever finding a mate and giving me grandchildren. You couldn’t even do that for your mother – after all I did for you.”
She shook her head clear of the memory. Mother had been gone these 6 years now. Yet Stacey could still feel her disapproval.
She watched the trees, envied them their freedom, and grieved with longing.
written for Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge: bend.
My all too wide rear on the front page is what started it. Working the finish line of a race, I was only secondary in the picture, but that rear shot bothered me.
Five days later I walked into a gym and sat on an exercise bike for the first time in a long forever.
That was last August. Since that first tentative ride I’ve worked my way up to 45-60 minutes, adding treadmill time and lifting weights.
My weight? Yes, that number has decreased as well. The derriere will be a bit smaller on this year’s front page story.
Written for the challenge REWORK from Velvet Verbosity.
I desire to be a human – to be fully present in the moment, in the person I am with. To be fully human much is required: a love for my fellow humans; a respect for our differences as much as we might be alike. I think of this often as I look at the world around me. As different as night is to day, sea to desert, all are more alike than we might seem. Without one we cannot be the other. It is required that I love above all. To be human I must love. I have much to learn.
This week VV challenged us with REQUIRED.
I have been introspective of late, trying to be more aware of those around me and the part I play in their lives. It is an ongoing journey, replete with joys and missteps along the way. The above picture is of two of the smaller humans in my life, the two younger granddaughters.
Twenty-one years old!
He was such a cute baby
Blue eyed chub
Called me Mom
Called his Mom – well, Mom
Couldn’t tell us apart
She had the sustenance
I shared the nurture
Her baby boy
Twenty-one years ago
Now a man
By age and by law
Still my cute baby boy
Blue eyed chub
Wisp of whiskers
Towering over me
Calls me hobbit
Looks up to me
Unafraid to hug
and kiss me
in front of God
my one and only
Sean at 14 – on our trip to DC with his 8th grade history class. This was taken at “Awakening” near the Patomac River.
So hard to believe my grandkiddos are getting so old and I am not . . . oh, all right, I’m getting older too. This week, VV challenged us to write 100 words on AGE. These are mine. Your turn.
once upon a long ago time
a little boy lost his mother
“What does she look like?”
“She’s the most beautiful woman in the world!”
Townspeople lined up
to be scrutinized by the lad
the elders walked him to
each and every
“No, not she. My mother is the
MOST beautiful woman in the world!”
“Alas, son, there is no other
the beauties have all been seen.
The boy gazed toward the edge of town
where sat an old woman
wrinkled, grayed, bent
“There!” he cried. “There is my mother
the most beautiful woman
in the world!”
VV’s prompt this last week of Poetry Month was PRETTY and there is an amazing slam poet highlighted for the week. I hope you will go over and listen to that.
This is a tale I heard in grade school. I think the nuns were trying to teach us that pretty is as pretty does – or that beauty is truly what is INSIDE the heart and not outside the body. At any rate, the gist of the story has stuck with me alllllllll these long and many years. Now that I am older, grayer, bent with my own years, I hope that any beauty in my heart can overshadow all that.
btw – just peeking in from Texas where I am visiting some elderly relatives and meeting up with some long-time on-line friends. Back to AK and reality towards the end of the week. Hope y’all (heh) are doing well.