Wrapping in blankets
Wards off chilly new.
Added by Jami Ward on June 30, 2010 at 5:00pm —
Darkened wispy clouds
Veil the reddish setting sun.
Feather painted sky.
Added by Jami Ward on June 29, 2010 at 5:00pm —
9/4/96 - 8/18/97
Heart & Soul Workshop
Best Mother's Day
"Each item in a collection has its own…
Added by Lillian Gaffney on June 29, 2010 at 9:22am —
Mother and Daddy,
Both long gone are with me still.
Ghosts and memories.
Added by Jami Ward on June 28, 2010 at 5:00pm —
A door that is closed
Can be opened once again.
Doors make holes in walls.
Added by Jami Ward on June 27, 2010 at 11:30pm —
She wakes with a start this keeper of your mother , father, sister, brother. She stumbles to the bathroom still in half slumber. She runs the water in the tub lost in thought and no thought at all. Running on auto pilot of scrubbing and brushing and dressing. She walks to the car mumbling about about a forgotten lunch on the table or misplaced homework assignment. The dark silence accompanies her to the car. She fiddles with the radio readying herself for the long ride.
Added by Ericka Gray on June 27, 2010 at 4:47pm —
Okay, relax. It's my choice
to fly by the seat of my pants
and my voice
will carry me places
emerge and emote,
emitting exuberance all the places I float.
So, relax. Stay ethereal.
Just this side of dilereal.
And know that in matters
that really do count,
where there is love,
love will win out.
Where you go isn't large.
It's the paths that you… Continue
Added by gracey on June 27, 2010 at 11:03am —
She closed the French doors
and stood by the mantel,
Grabbed the fire poker
whopped him on the head.
Found a roll of duct tape,
bound him up… Continue
Added by gracey on June 27, 2010 at 10:51am —
Dark whispers to me.
Unseen breezes caress me.
Night is my lover.
Added by Jami Ward on June 25, 2010 at 11:48pm —
Added by Lillian Gaffney on June 24, 2010 at 9:11pm —
Added by Karrie Chambless on June 24, 2010 at 8:00am —
What the hell happened?
I think my head exploded!
No, wait - just my hair.
Added by Jami Ward on June 23, 2010 at 11:50pm —
Trains have always fascinated many. Runaway cabooses, passenger cars filled with drowsy diners, or boxcars brimming with wild hobos, transporting all far off to fragrant destinations. Yes, there’s something mysterious about a good train ride.
A few years ago, we took the famous Colorado Narrow Gauge Railroad excursion from Durango to Silverton-fifty-two miles of the San Juan scenic byway. The choices varied on how classed… Continue
Added by Dorraine Darden on June 23, 2010 at 7:34pm —
Added by Karrie Chambless on June 23, 2010 at 11:50am —
I found my old ear-training/sight-singing classmate, Adam Carroll, through, you may have guessed, Facebook, listed as a favorite of another musician. I… Continue
Added by Karrie Chambless on June 22, 2010 at 4:27pm —
Journal writings usually reflect some monumental event of importance to you.
Each one of those events will evoke emotions within you. Sometimes,
they are things we are grateful for and sometimes, they are things we
grow from, I call them the soul of our writings. These are the special
things that make your heart sing. Let me give you a few examples here
from this journal.…
Added by Lillian Gaffney on June 22, 2010 at 12:35pm —
Where are you going?
Will you be gone very long?
Can I come along?
Added by Jami Ward on June 21, 2010 at 8:52pm —
It's getting harder
To play the macho guy part.
Can I drop the mask?
Added by Jami Ward on June 20, 2010 at 4:30pm —
My beloved father was killed in a freak helicopter accident when I was 10 and a half. The "halfs" were so important at that age. Only 2 weeks before, he had flown his helicopter to my school where I was attending summer school. He landed on the play ground, came in and told the principal he was taking me for the day. My classmates were so jealous. All of the teachers called recess so the kids could see the helicopter. Off we went for the adventure of a lifetime! There I sat next to my daddy… Continue
Added by Kathy Kelly on June 20, 2010 at 2:55pm —
One of the earliest memories I have of my father was when we were on vacation in Colorado in the early 50's. Several hours after leaving the motel that morning headed west I Continue
suddenly discovered I'd left my stuffed monkey – Zippy- back at the
motel room. After screaming and crying loud enough and with enough
juvenile authority I…
Added by Rick Reiley on June 20, 2010 at 10:17am —