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She counts her shells

her feet sand ribbed
her toes ricely white
her hair windy vagabond
her eyes low tide sea.

She gives me back my years.

Through tears
I count eternity.
Sometimes, you might end up all alone here .
Sometimes, what you see is not always the truth.
Sometimes, you might mess up in life big time.
Sometimes , you can be your own worst enemy.
Sometimes, life is not fair so you need to live with it.
But at least you still have Christ your God by you.
This is why you must not always jump to conclusions.
So you need to ask for forgiveness and then move on.
So you need to take everything to God in prayer here.
Like I said you need to learn to deal with it everyday.
 Oct 2015
Melissa S
I think that I am all alone
then the wind whispers to me
telling me age old secrets from the trees

I think that I am all alone
when a lightning bug lands on me
it flits, it flights, it lights up the night

I think that I am all alone
when I look up to see a shooting star
no longer wondering where you are

and I just smile and send up my wish and prayer
to that wondrous castle in the air
 Oct 2015
Hilda
Just thought I'd write these few lines
Praying God will take this message to you
I miss you so, dearest Joy!
Words cannot express the pain
Locked within my breast
Those times we sat sipping black coffee and
Talking about God and the Bible
Listening to a preacher on TV or sometimes a cartoon
The scent of your cigarette blending with spicy apple candle
Later you graduated to a smokeless cigarette,
Then finally you became too weak to smoke at all
Or even drink or eat or move
Dearest Joy, I miss you so!
I try to laugh and smile and joke
To comfort Tim and Marian yet the ache remains in my heart
Tim says he sometimes thinks he hears your footsteps in the woods
Sometimes I think I hear your soft knock at our door
Or that the phone ringing will be you
Always you were so sweet and appreciative
Thanking me over and over for the simplest little things
Thank you, sweetest Joy, for the lovely drinking glasses you gave us
And that special card you made which said
"Until we drink together of that water in heaven"
Forgive me for the Hospice group, dear Joy
I honestly believed that they would try to help
Rather than just cheerfully watching you die day after day
Thank you, dearest Sister, for all the sweet little gifts
Most of all your friendship and love
So I am praying that God will send this message to you
Perhaps show us some glimpse of Heaven to comfort our broken hearts
We love you, Sweetest Sister, and always will

**~Hilda~
In memory of my precious sister Joy who passed to Heaven upon June 10 of this year.
© Hilda  September 5, 2014.
 Oct 2015
Stefan Smith
You should get an Abortion.

It's for the best.

Your life is a wreck,
and you shouldn't want to
invite a child into your mess.
You're eighteen and homeless.
That's too young
to deal with all of this.
You can barely keep a hold
of yourself,
A kid would just make it worse.
It's time to just accept that.*

Those words were once meant for you, mom.
But, for some reason
you didn't listen.
You ignored their logic
and chose to battle through the pain.

You didn't give up.  
You fought on.
Got a car, a job, an apartment,
and a way out
of all the things that controlled you.

You didn't give up.
You knew you could be a better person,
and a worthy parent.
Because instead of being
constrained to your past
You used each mistake as a lesson
that slowly started to give you strentgh.

You didn't give up.
You believed in yourself
When no one else did,
and formed your own
path which,
inch by inch,
lead you farther from your fears
and closer to that moment
when you were able to sit
in the auditorium
and watch me graduate with the words
Thank you Jesus
ringing in the back of your head.
(I know they were)

You never gave up,
and look at us now, mom.
Look where we are.
It's a miracle.
We conquered all the odds
and ignored the logic.

Because you never gave up.

I want to be like you.
To face my trials
without any fear.
And when they tell me
to just give up.
To accept defeat.

I won't.

Because you didn't.
#pro-life
A beautiful princess , a pink dress and pretty blue eyes commands the catwalk ! Proud parents are the audience , a star is born ! Tonight the Fall Festival begins , handsome date , pacing up the walkway , corsage in hand ! Her first dance with a live band ,  best friends , hamburgers , hot dogs , cake and punch ! Music and laughter , slow dancing , glittering tinsel and lace !  High school gym , a grand ballroom , young sophomores on top of the world ! Escorted back home , a unbelievable night of romance , puppy love , holding hands down the street ! An innocent first kiss on the front porch !  A nerve racking , awkward peck on the cheek !
Copyright October 26 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Oct 2015
martin
beneath
her
perfect
skin
only the
chosen
view
the scars
 Oct 2015
martin
Smoke lifts slowly from the stack
sideways drifting now

Leaves begin to gently quiver
weather vane swings round

Flags begin to faintly flutter
boughs and branches move around

Umbrellas flipping inside out
wires howling now

People shout above the din
avoid the rolling over bin

Walkers leaning clutching coats
trees blocking roads

Autogiro flying tiles
fences lean and sway

People hurry on their way
to shelter from the hurricane
 Oct 2015
Gaffer
They stopped to talk when they noticed him
He always sits there
Has done for years
Maybe he likes the spot
No, it’s tragic
Pray tell
Well, i don’t actually know
I Think his wife died there  
You think
Yes, my mother told me when i was a child
Told you what
Told me something tragic had happened
But you don’t know what
Well, you don’t ask
Why don’t you ask
You don’t impose in peoples grief
Everybody knows that
Is he grieving
Of course he’s grieving, it’s obvious
It’s curious, not obvious
One way to find out though
You’re not going to ask him
I am

The story

I sit here everyday
For everyday the scene changes
Today i see a couple across from me
Other days, it maybe a jogger, dog walker, children playing.
Sunshine, rain, gales, snow
I will go home and paint that scene
It will always be different
And with a twinkle in his eye, he laughed
I may even have painted you as a child out with your mum
The ice was broken
My mum always brought me here
She would love it to think someone had painted us
They spoke in length
A stroll in the park had changed her life
The visit to her mum was extra special
She had a special gift.
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