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Showing posts from November, 2017

OUR COUNTRY SONG

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When your husband asks you to write him a song, and it comes in the early morning hours.
OUR COUNTRY SONG 

There's a way to write a love song
Without the whiskey and the whine And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Faith
And this is our country song

Take my tea and your lemonade
To that old rocking porch
Share a story of the babies
When they rode a rocking horse
Walk the beach hand in hand
Pulling secrets from the sand Remember all those places Water erased our footprint traces
There's a way to write a love song
Without the whiskey and the whine And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Fait…

TIME---A SACRED THING

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Time--A Sacred Thing
Sitting still and quiet, Empty folded hands, Legs stretched out loose, Crossing hearts Sharing this sacred thing
Deep inside numb tears lose Holding churning emotions still, Draped in the will To get these moments right Sharing this sacred thing
Heavy expectation hangs With hearts that wish The days to keep turning, Trapping our will To share this sacred thing
Without our willful nods, The clock keeps tap ticking As the chasm widens Between here and now And time and eternity
Sun beams saturate the hard floor To soften misty eyes, wondering if Our close distance to eternity Could pause this living
To share more of this sacred thing


LIVING PASSIONATELY IN THE WEAKNESS OF ALS: DEDICATED TO MY UNCLE

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(Dedicated to honoring my Uncle Dave who has valued strength and passion his whole life, who now faces his next greatest act of bravery:  living passionately in the weakness of a life with ALS.) 

When you see a strong memoried man stare straight into his short future, your head spins his direction. From my angle, I can't quite see his screen, but I see his reflection as in the darkness of a TV screen. His silence shallow breathes words with his eyes.

There's sweet assuredness mingling with pain and doubt like whiskey and coke. But his wrestle with the hard life ahead can't be watered down like sinking ice cubes. The slow sweet drink of Coke won't drown out the strength of this bitter taste of the lowball he's been handed.  Certainly, he'd say he's been slid a strong kicking tumbler.



In this part of life's ride, he's facing the frustration of a stop sign on a steep hill. Smoothly moving on is putting his control and riding skills to the test. He'…

#MenToo...FINDING THE ULTIMATE POWER OF #MeToo

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#MeToo ...I never typed it in Twitter or Facebook because I hoped I'd be much more than a number.


Sweeping his hand to touch my rear or back as he walked by me when clearly the space provided  was plenty to avoid any contact. 
Making passing by him in hallways and rooms difficult as he didn't get out of the way but waited for me to pass.  
Holding on to my leg as if to steady himself as he walked by me sitting or lying on the floor as if he were going to fall or step on me if he didn't.
Quietly and unobtrusively "Pssting" and beckoning with his fingers to come to him  
Repeatedly asking me to take him for a ride, an innuendo before I even knew what that term even meant. But I certainly felt the laced meaning behind the words, the daring me to reveal I knew it too, like some shared sick secret. Calling my house on Christmas break and asking if I just got out of the shower and stalking past my house.
These many encounters shortened here, starting in my teens and ending my …