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Dorothy A Nov 2010
She married him just to get out of the house. He, in turn, was a great rescuer of helpless cases, and she was a damsel in distress. They were both so young. She was barely eighteen and he was almost twenty. It was the Spring of 1968, and none of her friends thought it would last. Those were the days of free love, and all her friends did not expect her to stay tied down for long. After all, she was young and did not experience that much in life.

At first, everything went smoothly. They both tried their best to be a good marriage partner, but their parents weren't good models. Their marriages seemed to be lifeless and void of love. So they  had to learn on their own, by their own, day-to-day experience.  

Soon she became bored with him, and he distanced himself away from her. He tinkered away at his workshop in the basement, bunkered down in his own domain while she found her haven in the kitchen. She quickly became love-starved, reading cheap romance novels to fill up the void.

She became relieved when she was pregnant with her first child, so she would not be alone anymore. Yet the birth of her son did not make life any easier, and it only added fricton to the distant couple. Another child, a daughter came only one year later. Instead of feeling closer to her husband, she only grew more weary of him, and he of her. All of her efforts was put into her children to attempt make her life happy. It did not work all that well for her, and she struggled with depression often. Yet she hid it, putting her best face forward in the midst of her desperation to convince her friends and family that she was fine.

They were both very surprised that the third child came around four years later, another girl, for he barely touched her. They had been existing like two roomates instead of a husband and wife.

It was nearly inevitable that he would stray from her. When she became more and more suspicious, she confronted him and he told her the truth. He did not love her anymore, and he was happier in the arms of another. She cried to her friends, and they all told her to divorce him. Even though she had few working skills, she was better off without him. She cried even harder, for she had to admit that she strayed, too, and she believed she may have been the first to do so.

She caught another man's eye, and she could not understand why a mother of three would be so appealing. Now she felt truly ugly, that her marriage was a lie, and there was no way back, but to be out of it. Most of all,  she felt that she wronged her children, and her illusion of a perfect family shattered before her eyes.

Her husband packed up his bags, but even he had tears in his eyes. He never meant it to be this way. What happened to the time when he could not keep his eyes off of her? He knew his children were counting on him, and he vowed he would always see they had what they needed--the basics like shelter, clothing and food. But they weren't going to have him, not like they once had. He felt like he let down everyone who counted on him, and it was a heavy load to bear.

So he went away, but neither of them could sleep at night. The other side of the bed seemed emptier than ever. The woman he thought he now loved was not going to make him any happier than he was before.

He now discoverd that he was just as much in his soon-to-be ex-wife's life as  he was while they were together, doing repairs on the house, paying bills, visiting the children. So why couldn't they give it another shot? They just didn't know how to revive the mess they were in, but both admitted they were willing to do do. She did not want him to rescue her, like she before, for it never worked in the first place.

They made several trips to their church pastor for counseling. Each one had to forgive the other, and not harbor any hard feelings, in order to begin the process of getting back together. It had been nine years since they first married, and they weren't that young, naive couple anymore. Life had matured them, often the hard way,and they were ready to try again.

Even though all her old friends thought she would never make it, she had learned to love her husband like she could never do before. He had learned to be there for her, and not distance himself. They could have stayed together for the children's sake, but nothing would have been any better unless they changed.  They both knew they did not want a marriage of convenience, or in name only.

Life was certainly never going to be without troubles, but they had remained together, weathering every trial. And they never regretted that they chose to stay together.
Dorothy A Nov 2010
I just can't shake
these lonely days,
or my lonely ways,
this persistant, lonely phase

I want to be a confident extrovert
I want to break free
I want to let the lonely days be
completely far behind me

But I fear the loneliness
has a cruel friend become
Like a constant chum
that I would rather shun

I can be lonely in a crowd
I can be content in my own space
Others, I've offered hope and grace
but my own pain remains in place 

I feel like an onion
The layers, one could peel off each part
Joy, peace, beauty-- the desires of my heart
Yet at my core is where the pain starts  

Loneliness, I do not want its pity
Wanting the sadness to go away
Yet those lingering feelings stay
as I live these lonely days
Dorothy A Nov 2010
Those serial killers
**** for the sport of it,
with no remorse,
and just because they can
How their victims suffered!

The land contains their blood

The ones in jail
are like caged vultures
hungry to be free again
for more blood,
with a keen nose for
rotten stench
at their disposal

The only compassion
I have for those killers
is that their lethal injection
be administered
as quickly as possible

Yet this was never the case
for their victims
compelled to write this after seeing a CNN special about serial killers.....in honor of all those who died needlessly from serial killers
Dorothy A Nov 2010
NOTHING

By itself,
It is a stark word
It is utter darkness
A bottomless abyss
A blank void
It has no part in anything
And matters to no one

But...
If God could take
A formless concept
And turn it into the universe--
The earth, separating the sky from the waters,
Creating the planets, our moon,
The air, the seas,
The animals and vegetation,
and certainly all of us,
Nothing now seems
To have tremendous value

When my faith has felt
Like a pile of rubble,
reduced to ruin from heartache,
From sin--all ways around
I am reminded of
The simple mustard seed,
A seed so small it seems
Nothing will come of it,
But in time it grows and rises
Beyond all expectations
To multiply itself beyond
Its humble beginnings,
And the birds of the air rest in it
To create a symphony of song

And so is our faith compared
For all it takes is that bitty spark
To ignite our faith,
Or to regenerate it once more,
Into something
Out of practically nothing

Before you and I  
Had existed on this earth
We, too, were like that seed
Conceived, soon a microscopic fetus
Developing from the oneness
Of our mother and father
And now we are here
Inhabiting this earth
From one, tiny spark
We became something
Out of practically nothing

So I dare not waste
Such a precious gift
Though life has been far from easy
Taking my pen in my hand
And sitting before a blank screen
Or an empty piece of paper,
And suddenly something comes
Out of practically nothing

And so let us all realize
What wonderful things
Are yet to be done
That have yet to come
Into existence
Looking unto God with thanks
For those capabilities
Dorothy A Nov 2010
Maybe I was born
to be a Debbie Downer
Maybe I was born
to sing the blues

But I think I'll be
a cockeyed optimist
for what have I got to lose?
Dorothy A Nov 2010
There are volumes and volumes
on the subject of love
As ancient as time
are the poems
and the books
and the plays
that have inspired
us all to desire
such love

Some of it seems
so lofty or unrealistic
to be experienced
That kind of love seems
unobtainable,
unreachable
and truly false
It only satisfies the heart
like cotten candy,
sweet to take in
but not fulfilling

On the other hand,
some love tales are filled
with heartache,
with a desired love
never achieved,
or unfairly thwarted,
but always
hungered and thirsted after,
like life-giving sustenance
to feast upon,
for love seems to be
the needed remedy to prevent
us just from existing  
for the sake of existing
  
With so much
that has been presented
in all kinds of art forms
on the subject of love,
I often am saddened
as to why
there is such the lack of it
in our world,
in the real world,
which is a place  
in which our fantasies collide

Hollywood love
is often our guide
in our modern world
and I have often
fallen for it
and could not get
enough of it,
like a drug that I craved
But how much of it
seems so selfish
and hypocritical,
such a mirage
and a hoax?

Is not love
more than an emotion?
Is not love
more than what "I" can get out of it?

Yes, this kind of love
I find repulsive
and cheap
and hallow
and cold

What I am writing about
may not inspire
the heart to feel tingly,
for we have all been taught
that love is only this way,
when all is good,
and all is perfect
as to two beautiful people
entwined in love's rapture

I now know differently

There are those dying
a slow death
from a lack of love
and they may not
even know they are
mortally wounded

Others may know
they need more love
than what the world
often brags about,
yet live a life
of quiet desperation

They may feel unworthy of it
They may hide from it
and avoid it
They may not be
very enjoyable to be around
to invite others to love them
But they need it anyway
just like everyone else

Like one needs air
basic water, food
and shelter to live
we all need love

I am not just talking about others,
although I've observed it, personally
But I have suffered my share of droughts
often suffered that disease myself
I do not admit it proudly
for it is a horrible feeling
of shame that
I wish never, ever to feel again
How I often longed for something
that did not seem obtainable
Or how I felt that I was not worthy
to take in such love

I also have to admit
my wrongdoing in reaching out
How guilty I have been
to not offer a smile,
a kind word,
or a sympathetic ear
to someone in desperate need of it
Too rapped up in my own problems

So I challenge myself,
for I know how it feels
to wish to experience love
in a more pure form from above
Not what I can get out of it
but how I can bless another

If the whole world
was to truly love
the way God meant
for us to do,
we would all be
saturated in its gift
and the ugly disease
from the lack of love
would be no more
Dorothy A Nov 2010
Like noble, wooden soldiers
Are the lovely autumn trees
How I love those autumn trees!
How I love their brilliant leaves!

Not able to walk,
Not able to talk,
But those Autumn trees
Stand there,
Stoically,
Silently,
And they speak
And move just the same
I can hear their tale
In my heart,
In my soul,
For there within rings the message of
Rennaissance and renewal

They are rooted in place
Like guards of the land
Their grand colors,
As Autumn showers
Of fiery rain,
Yet harmless and peaceful
As the leaves descend
To the ground for their final destination
The earth now becomes
A patchwork quilt
From the release of Fall foliage

They truly are like royalty,
Adorned in fine fitting robes
That have been splashed with
Nature's paintbrush of  
Gold, scarlett and blazing orange,
A kaleidoscope of stylish colors
A dazzling tapestry to behold!

But they must now shed
Their Fall finery
In an ancient tradition
The cycle of the seasons
They've endured throughout the ages

Their leaves become as
Paper to the wind
Yet they shall not suffer loss,
For soon they shall be
Blanketed in glorious white,
Like a luxurious fur
To clothe them once again
In Winter's fashion

To endure all that the weather
Has to throw at them
The tempests, the droughts--
We humans can glean
The seeds of the wellspring of life
Harvested from these trees
These days of Autumn's reign,
That have reaped the seasons of growth
From Spring and Summer

Autumn helps to instruct me
To keep my eye out on the horizon,
Watching and waiting
For life has not adandoned us in this season
But will return to us all in Spring,
On that you can fully rely upon

The nature of the trees--
Harboring birds,
And other creatures,
Sheltering the land,
Is one of kindness
I never tire of their beauty,
Their majestic branches
That spread out in
Growing abundance,
Bearing life-sustaining fruit

After all their leaves
Have finally left them
They stand there,
Now naked and eerily haunting,
Like upside-down brooms
sweeping the endless skies
And we mortals, in turn,
Sweep and rake away
The remnants of their Fall spectacle
From the layering of the land

The children realize the Autumn gift
As their playful hearts gather up
The leaves to freely jump into
The cushioning piles,
Into the mounds of fading colors


Why do I love Fall so much?
With all those dark, cloudy days?
With the sun becoming scarce?

I love Fall so much
Because it reminds me of hope,
Of what will eventually grow once more,
Not just of the obvious loss of green leaves
I see the fragility of life,
And the strength of it, too,
As the leaves descend to the ground
Shrivel up into brown decay
And crunch beneath our feet

No, Fall is only a temporary moment
Of nature readying itself for slumber
It must make way for Winter
The grandfather of the year to come,
To replace these days of Autmn trees...
Where nothing can ever grow,
Where the land is now barren,
Where the ice and snow take over,
And survival is never taken for granted

But Winter shall make way for Spring,
Where the cold, hard, lifeless ground
Warms up to nurture the tender seeds
Of flowers that have withered and died
For it is a time for another chance
The land awakening to embrace life again

Without such seasons of life how do we
Dream of brand new beginnings?
We clearly see that life must succeed death
Nature is surely our teacher
If only we look for its lessons
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