.....WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW

Meek and timid as a rabbit are we.

Strong as an Ox we will be.

We can blush and smile with glee.

Then shout and count; One! Two! Three!

Our eyes shimmer and widen.

A moment later, squint and turn cold.

Yes, the web we make.

The bed, we bake.

Love, we take...

With caution.

We dream and dance.

Sing songs and run in fields.

Flowers in hand, we float.

With worry, we cry and feel faint.

Anger with unspeakable words.

Forgiveness with simplicities.

Unending hugs and granted wisdom.

Yes, the web we make.

To the bed, with cake.

Love, we take...

With an embrace.

We take chances.

We make changes.

Women all around the world.

Sacrifice and stand strong.

I took a break from the internet. Almost a year. It's been a long year with challenges. Not as challenging as a few years back. However, there were some new approaches I used making each situation seem not as hard.

I am sorry to those who actually read this blog. To those I support on here, my apologies for not contacting you. I have not forgotten you. As you can see, your sites and names are still posted here with warmth and comfort they deserve. :)

Finding myself a bit mentally frustrated, I've been unable to write well for a while now. I started writing a lot a few years ago. As I decided to share some of my writing to the world, I was told and/or instructed by others/places to write a specific way. I was told, it was the Only way the public would notice some of the things I write. I began to notice, I couldn't recognize the "me" in what I wrote. It was no longer personalized, but "politically correct" or "publishable" by the eyes of companies and people I sought approval from.

I then grew angry that others would take what I wrote (or my ideas) and regurgitate it into their own. While yes, maybe some wrote it better than I did, there were some who truly tore it up. Instead of getting constructive criticism, I got empty air. I thought I was unable to produce something with merit and worth reading by others.

I then began what I called "writing generically". It's no ones fault for this. I through my stuff out there with hope of being noticed. So, there is not one person or place I could blame. I blame myself for not having enough faith in what I've written and published in the past. I blamed myself enough now.

I'm over it! lol I am going to start writing again someday:) I don't know when, but I assure you, when the time comes, you'll see improvement!

For now, if anyone would like me to post something for them, I'd be honored to share your work with others and pass along viewers to your sites!

Take Care :)

-This is one poem of a few in the past 6mo I've tried to write....This block is kickin' my ass. I'll try to produce something worthwhile asap. Take Care all.

Painting Boxes in the Cranium


Tiny White one contains
Few precious memories
To not forget

Red ones hold
Anger, fear, regret
Negativity

Yellow shines with
Happiness, faith, encouragement
Positivism

Green boxes
Connection with land
Respecting what we are given

Miniscule Black boxes
Looking beyond with dreams and goals
The unknown and what is yet to come

Life will grow
All around us
We create those boxes

Can the heart contain
A label itself?
Aim in not compartmentalizing

We do not need to label ourselves
Nor the things in our lives
What defines us

Are all things collected
Merging together
There is no space

Nor any room
In the heart
For boxes

Ok, I've been told my short story is TOO short..so, I've gotta tie in something to make it longer-Here is the Intro of a woman in to the story...Check it out..and let me know:) I'm still not able to get internet yet-so,I'm in a cafe temp. Miss you all.....



Wearing a sun dress, she walked down the stairs toward Bethesda. The folds of white and yellow cascading around her hips and legs like a gentle tide dancing along the sand bank. A look of bewilderment on her face, she almost missed the last step, but caught herself gracefully. Carter smiled to himself. He’d never seen her before. ‘She must be a tourist.’ he thought. Just like many tourists, she pulled out a camera and began to snap shots.
She walked all around the fountain. Fixated for some time on the detail in stone, she then turned sideways. Her eyebrows raised when she saw a man (Carter) leaned back against a tree. His pen in hand, scribbling. ‘Odd,’ she thought. He’s not even looking at the page. He was looking in the direction of some canoe’s on the river. She took a picture of him, imagining how it would look in Black and White. The man looked up at her. ‘Busted,’ she thought as her face turned several shades of pink and red like wild rouge used in the 80’s.
He began to gather his things. Carter got up and walked over to a concession stand. He bought two bottles of water, walked over to the woman and handed her one without a word. He was entranced by her. She uttered a thank you and began to apologize when he put his finger to her lips. She backed up a little, unsure and startled. He stuck out his hand and finally spoke,” Hello, I’m Carter.” His face was flushed.

“H H Hello. My name is (insert character name).” she said in a whisper that sent chills through Carter like the first winter wind…

Love is a dream-few wake up from.

Love is a dream-a fantasy-some might say: a state of mind.... What is love? Feeling? Emotion? Is it that feeling when you hold an infant covered with remains of placenta-and kiss him/her on the forehead ? Is it the pang in ones chest cavity when their emotional -feeling hurt?

I question more when that all goes away. What about those who hold their newborn and feel nothing? Or those, who hide behind the bottle or needles ?

Numbness continues. You can try to run and hide, but it comes around and hits you stronger than anything you could ever imagine.

Love is a dream? A fantasy? A state of mind?

I don't think so! It is very real. We learn to control it, block it, handle it with care and attention...

I like being awake. I like seeing if Love truly exists in Reality. I see what 'looks' /'appears' like love....

You just never know! Love comes in many forms,words, movements, gestures, and even in what's not said....

Sometimes, it's enough. For many, it is never enough-and they remain..in the dream-the fantasy-that state of mind.

Which are you?

I know who I am
_A.Rose_

A rose can smell and look so sweet-----why do people always become so blinded by forgetting there are Thorns? Tame a rose? You'll still be stung in time-over and over again...