Three Facebook pages on writing, a post a day on each for the month of July, combined and posted here as well.
Small Stone, July 2014, Twenty-sixth
Stop. Listen! What's that sound?
"I burnt my arm real bad, 'cause I wouldn't wait for Mother and retched up to the warmin' oven to get what I wanted. I reckon I was maybe 7."
I love hearing my mother speak of her childhood. She has such a beautiful Appalachian accent. The event she speaks of happened in about 1939. The "warmin' oven" was on the top of the old cast iron cookstove (not electric) my grandmother cooked on until they moved from the farm to town in about 1970.
July Writing Project - A Poem a Day - Day Twenty-six
This world may seem dark - vast - forlorn
A cold and fearsome place to be
Where trials beset from day you're born
Regardless if a "he" or "she"
This vantage rests on many soul,
A heavy burden carried there.
Rocky paths twixt here and goal.
Rests and respite are few and rare.
The world I see? Rainbow and sun
Are always there with task begun.
And at days end when race is run?
My goal is ever - Regrets? - None!
Magic to some may seem obscure
No! Tis real and from fear a cure
Unicorns lie, replete and secure -
Safe from dragons siren lure
Thus this life we all live transforms
Light prevails with beauty, and grace
Love triumphs o'er troubles and storms
And all are victors at end of race.
Twenty-sixth Noticing, July 2014
Imperfect ten
Awakened. Coffee and biscuits consumed. Now sleepy. Saturday is here.
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