Morn A Child

I morn a child today.

Remembrances of Easter eggs and candy corn
Run through my mind making my heart forlorn.

Feeling the breeze during a drive to the beach
Are capped by memories being attentive to teach.

Riding log flumes through a misty spray
Are highlights for many a vacation day.

Driving to the movies for popcorn treats,
Coming home to sing of cartoon song feats.

Cuddling up with mom with a runny nose,
And being sung into a drowsy doze.

Going on a treasure hunt to find treasure with dad,
Tracking mud to show off, making mom mad.

I morn a childhood today.

This poem brought to you by the Writing Challenge at The Sunday Whirl. Share your submission with me. I’d love to see it!


Labor Day… Or Whose Season Is It Anyway?

It’s that wonderful, brilliant time of year again. The South is notorious for it, but I’m sure we’re not the only ones. Labor day is over. It’s fall again.

In the coming weeks, there will be mornings that start out cool enough to need to wear jackets. It’ll be delightful until the temperatures skyrocket halfway to lunch time and we’re sweltering in those warm clothes. In childhood, it meant lost jackets and sweaters. If you’re anything like me, it’s much the same as an adult. I can’t tell you how many times that I’ll be getting ready to head out, feel the chill in the air, and step back in to grab my jacket. But do I see it? Of course not. It’ll be a few minutes, but I’ll realize that once again my jacket has been left behind in the car. And when you’re young it’s usually one of those not quite plastic coats that are ten times colder and seem to take forever to warm up to body temperature. And during the Southern Fall that’s usually about the time to take it off.

Of course we’re not there yet. It’s still hot as anything outside. Which begs the mention of the other great Southern Fall disagreement. White after Labor Day. Some say it’s an etiquette detail and nothing more. Others say that it’s just because of the weather and thusly to be ignored thanks to the strange Southern Fall. After doing my homework I found the truth behind it even more bizarrely annoying. According to an article on the White Rule in Mental Floss magazine (a greatly diverse magazine that always has something in it that you never knew that you didn’t know) the background of the White Rule was less about the weather and more about money. Apparently, it was part of a list of etiquette rules created sometime in the 1800s to primarily let old money know if they were dealing with new money or old money.

That being said, we’re getting to my favorite part of fall. My favorite yearly writing competitions and challenges all happen at this time of the year. And on top of that, my favorite writing clothes have always been sweat pants and sweat shirts. Good comfort clothing. Is it possible to wear during summer and the first part of fall? Of course not.

But that time is coming. My time is coming.

What is your beef with fall? Comment to commiserate or say a few words in support of fall.

90 Days to Your Novel – Day 1

The beginning of every journey starts with one step. Even though I’ve already completed one novel length story, I have purchased 90 Days to Your Novel: A Day-by-Day Plan for Outlining & Writing Your Book. Hopefully my next novel will be more publishable than the last.

That being said, I’ve read the task for day one and I’m already starting to rethink the plan. I’m supposed to think back to my earliest memories and write them all down.

I’m lucky if I can remember what I did last week. Perhaps I can add in the stories I have been told. Regardless, I have a hard time believing that I can write for 2-3 hours on such a topic.

Here’s to the possibility that tomorrow’s task will be somewhat easier.

In addition to all that, at the suggestion of The Daily Post, I’ve claimed my blog at Blog Lovin’. Follow my blog with Bloglovin

The Unknown – Wordle 175

Wordle 175

My rickety cart shudders its way
Along the cliff, threatening my day
Fear fills my bones when I cannot see
The bottom of the chasm clearly

Will I fall? Live? Which do I want?
Options and choices are a harsh taunt
A rift of unknowns besides me
Gives flight to a longing for safety

The rails shift with life’s stutter
My heart clenches in fear’s mutter
Language fails me as fear guides me
Sanity’s absence brings a giddy glee

A glimmer shows on the horizon
Light baffles fear as it enlighten
Will hope sustain me long enough?
The tracks straightens passing the bluff

Only the Blind May See

A quaint serenity fills the air,

A peacefulness that is so rare.

Gone is the busyness of the day,

Replaced with a sparkling sun ray.


A bubbling brook wanders by,

As modernity begins to die.

A simple hand upon a tree,

Proves that life is still free.


Worries disappear with every step,

Leaves crumbling like every fret.

Frightened wildlife begins to show,

As their faith begins to grow.


Such beauty paints a picture just for me,

A picture that only the blind may see.


Daily Prompt: Lookin’ Out My Back Door.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Wrap It Up

Apparently this is the time of year that many people blog about top 10 lists of things that have happened throughout the past year. Honestly, with my memory I couldn’t finish a list if I wanted to. Instead I offer you this…..

Top 10 Anticipated Moments for 2013

  1. At least one novel sold and published
  2. At least two novels written and attempting to be sold
  3. Self-Publish two poetry eBooks
  4. Self-Publish my father’s poetry
  5. Go on a real vacation somewhere
  6. Read War and Peace
  7. Lose at least a couple pounds
  8. Get a dalmatian puppy (I promised myself when I accomplish #1)
  9. Buy Christmas presents before Thanksgiving
  10. Become a better person than I am now

Shall we meet back here this time next year?

Weekly Writing Challenge: Wrap It Up.

via Weekly Writing Challenge: Wrap It Up.

Daily Prompt: Forever Young

Ageless waters sparkling clear
Daring many to take their sip
So many hold their youth dear
Hiding from that final trip

The vessel of water before me
Taunts with visions of second life
The thoughts of escape are distinct
But stalled by the thoughts of strife

Who would want to live forever young
Always pretty, always shallow
When age offers so much to learn from
For beauty or mind? Love would be hollow.

Daily Prompt: Forever Young.

via Daily Prompt: Forever Young.

Daily Prompt: Plead the Fifth

I absolutely despise subjective questions. Especially feelings. So many people can have such different meanings for the same feeling. If I say I’m feeling depressed does the person I’m talking to think I’m on the verge of committing suicide or do they just think I’m slightly off my game today.

That’s also why I prefer to write as opposed to speaking. When I write I can be fairly sure that the people reading will understand my meaning. Plus I get the benefit of proofreaders and editors. Sure you can get speech writers and the like, but who’s to say that their word meaning is the same as your own.

Conversations are the worst. I stutter, hesitate, repeat myself, basically all the things that you’re not “supposed” to do. As Christians we’re supposed to be evangelists in our daily lives. I wouldn’t dare. I believe that I would chase more people away then attract. Let me write a letter and we might actually get somewhere.

I’m looking forward to the day that they come out with neural implants that convey a person’s real meaning instead of their literal meaning. Of course that would probably bring on a slew of other issues too.

I think I’ll just write.

Daily Prompt: Plead the Fifth.

via Daily Prompt: Plead the Fifth.

One Step Away

Your heart grows warm
This creation of your play
Your pride takes form
As we take one step away

As the wealth begins to roll in
More and more day after day
Avarice sets in, deepening the sin
As we take two more steps away

With the wealth comes the draw of the flesh
Before long lust has swept you away
Further from your spouse, further from the creche
As we take three more steps away

Secrets exposed, no longer seperated
Pointing fingers, sides are weighed
Anger draws forth, loved becomes hated
As we take four more steps away

We fall apart without the love
Food and drink taken in all day
Darkness is covered like a glove
As we take five more steps away

When so much is lost, so much is missed
The grass becomes greener when we stray
Happiness is gone when envy is in our midst
As we take six more steps away

It becomes too much and we feel so weak
Easier to let it happen than keep evil at bay
We hope our sins have reached their peak
As we take seven more steps away

Our garden has become our desert
Though it is darkest before the dawn
We can stand no more to deal the hurt
No more will we be the devil’s pawn

Seeing that only the one above can save
We finally see how far we have roamed
When we are crawling we find life we crave
Only seven more steps away from home

It is only through the heart of Jesus
That we can understand the holy tome
Offering kindness is the way to forgiveness
Only six more steps away from home

On the road home we take only what we must
We find overindulgence has become gruesome
Only our staff and sandles do we mark the dust
Only five more steps away from home

Away with those that drag us down
No more will we let our hearts roam
One spouse or none until we see the crown
Only four more steps away from home

A trip of many miles takes more than just a day
Patience must be learned to undo what’s been done
Though the trip is long and the outlook gray
Only three more steps away from home

It is only in giving that we may receive
Those that have nothing are ones that know
Nothing can we take when it is time to leave
Only two more steps away from home

It takes hard work to right the wrongs
It would be so easy from the path to roam
But the work goes easier as we sing the psalms
Only one more step away from home

Only once our work is finished
And our deeds undone
Will our Father say welcome home

Writer Know Thyself – Bad Habits

Do you have a bad habit that affects everyday life?

Most of my bad habits are related to my self-esteem. My biggest bad habit that most affect my life and the lives around me would be the way I over think the way people say things around me. A simple comment leads into me wondering why it was said, did they mean it that way, or did they really mean something else. And really most of it lies in something someone wise once told me a long time back. Inside every comment, no matter how innocently said, lies a grain of truth.

How would life change if you overcame that habit?

I would imagine that I would be more relaxed about life as would those around me. But I also believe that over thinking comments is what makes me a better writer. If I can think of all the what ifs in life, then it should be able to color my stories more.

What steps would you need to take?

I believe it would take lots of time and treating myself like one of Pavlov’s dogs. When dealing with one’s psyche this way so much is ingrained that changes cannot be made by just deciding suddenly to not do so.

What would make you finally decide to change?

Frankly, someone other than myself would have to be hurt by it. I feel too much like I’m maintaining status quo that upsetting the balance, would affect too much other stuff.

Does your main character need to overcome a bad habit?

All this talk of bad habits has made me realize that she doesn’t have one. Perhaps she’s a little too perfect. Maybe she needs a bad habit to make her more believable. She needs something that will make the readers hurt for her and cheer her on to get over.

At least this exercise has given me something to work on.

This blog post curtsey of The Writer Magazine November/December issue Writing Prompt