Scribbles # 50: Hell on Hallowed Ground

It was a dark and stormy night when the air was dampened and stale, when the moon hid behind the thick cloud covering, as if it did not want to appear at all.  Maybe it had heard about the black ghosts, gray ghosts, and the ecru ghosts who were...

Scribbles #49: Alms to the Garden Gnome

My heart is what it used to be before there was the hearth and fire, It is chilled and like an abandoned home with the windows broken out; Nobody comes and goes, the frost is on the ground and snow upon my thoughts. I am like...

Stepping Out Of Love

            Have you ever been lost in a dark and mindless place? Have you ever been terrified to breathe, much less take a step out there, somewhere In faith, just believing that it truly might be that way, some way a bit...

Scribbles #48: Finally, the Restoration

She was no longer the cliche`, the 'foreigner', the one who held out hope even when the hope was all but lost, she was no longer the butt of the joke.  She was possibly the 'half-wit', chaste lunatic, alone and going mad before all of that came to an...

What is your definition of WISE?

To live for results would be to sentence myself to continuous frustration. My only sure reward is in my actions and not from them. Hugh Prather I think this is a wise statement.

The Art of Kindness

The Dalai Lama once quoted as saying, "This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness." I think upon the two vital organs there in our...

Feeling Better than Good

Have you had a day recently when you feel even better than good?  When you feel extremely happy, contented, and peaceable? I feel this right this minute.  I cannot isolate what is significant or what the factors are in making me feel most excellent in...

Scribbles Challenge #47: The Realization Hurts

She felt her heart pounding so hard that she feared any minute it might pound right out of her chest.  She rode her horse as fast as she could while the rain kept its relentless attack upon the whole countryside.  The road was so washed out and the mud...

True Love

My true love, Tis the emblem of what is excellent When it simply exists. My true love, I remember it and weep. Tears, enough to fill an ocean, My true love, Running like a wolf to the sea. I am this woman who...

The Writing Desk

The Writing Desk It was old, delapidated, distressed, paint was crinkled, peeling, The dust was thick and the drawers were stuck. I saw it there midst all of the other junk that was piled high to the ceiling, The young lady gave it to me...

Scribbles #41: The Irony

"Birth," the doctor whispered, as he was at a total loss, searching for some right wordedness, he kept using the medical jargon all the while and she just tuned him out. She turned her head as she just stared at the red roses in the glass vase. She was...