The Forest

The leaves crunch under her bare feet
Moist soil tickling between her toes
Sweet winged creatures buzzing in her ears
Alive

Majestic trees look down upon her
The moon peeking through the leaves
His sleepy eyes resting on her path
Flickering like candlelight in a room swallowed by twilight
Shadows dancing across the faces of the forest
Smiling and laughing
Frowning and brooding
Fear

The night sings his lullaby
Lugubrious voice of the wind
Enchanted fiddle of the crickets
Hooting hums escape from the graceful throats of the owls
The blinking stars tinker their tune across the midnight sky
Rejoice

Darkness wraps his lovely arms around her
She breathes
Mist nestles in her hair
Gleaming like diamonds atop black silk
Her skin aglow
She escapes what is naught to enter what is now
Beauty unattainable through the tender eye
Home

Searching

Underneath this dirty surface
I look for truth
I search for balance
yearn for freedom
I wake from this coma and you are still by my side
You are silent

My hands rip through the tension
My eyes burn through the tears
My arms hold a ghost
Transparent

You are not true to your heart
You suffer through the indulgence of untruths
Alone
You wait

Alone
I search
I seek refuge
I need guidance
I reach for the hands of God
I walk away

Still searching....

I CAN do this!

This is funny.
I like to look at author's blogs/websites.
Authors I admire and love- who inspire me on a daily basis.
I was reading tips from a writer.
Her tip is to write.
I think that's funny.
Because she is right.
It's so much harder than one thinks.
At least for me it is.
I stopped writing.
I knew it wouldn't last.
So I wrote today.
I stopped in the middle. Not understanding why I was getting upset.
And I realized as I was revising- that I just don't think I'm good enough.
But I'm not going to give up.
I'm going to keep writing.
That makes sense, doesn't it?
If you want to be a writer, you have to write!
I CAN DO THIS!

Tired

So I figured since this was a journey on my road to writing, I thought I would share something with you.
Since I have exactly 4 followers (still) and I have no idea if anyone is reading this blog, I don't have a clue if anyone has even noticed my lack of blogging recently.
In an effort to get past my self pity, I will go on to explain that I have been rejected for the first time.
Scratch that, my writing has been rejected.
Scratch that again, a poem of mine has been rejected.
This has been my fear all along.
My worry.
My "problem".
So here it is. It's happened. Now what?
Well, I think I'm taking it pretty well.
First, I read the letter several times.
Then, I got really angry.
I mean seething....foaming-at-the-mouth-angry.
How DARE you tell me my poem is not GOOD enough for what you're looking for.
(the letter said nothing of that sort, by the way)
Last, I cried.
I cried many tears.
In fact, I wailed.
I even did one of those stunts where I look at myself in the mirror....
all puffy eyed, blotchy red, and weary.....
thinking to myself......what are you doing? Who are you? What are you here for?
This is the worst part.
I stopped writing.
I didn't want to write.
To hell with writing.
That was my bottom.
But see, if you've been reading my poetry lately you'd know.
I'm already at the bottom.
So in all reality.  I didn't move much.
Now what?
Seeing that I don't love being down here, I have to pull myself up.
Somehow.
Someday.
I need to get up!!
What do I need? One word- Four syllables.
Sim-plic-i-ty
That's it!
I want simplicity.
Simple food, simple conversation, simple life.
I don't know if this is possible.
But at this point, I can't even concentrate on my writing- my head is so jumbled with complicated mush!
I'm tired.....my body is tired....my head is tired......my heart is tired.
I'm reading a book right now (too cliche to do a review on)-
and someone in the book asks her "what is your word?"
What the hell?
There is no cotton-pickin-way I could give you ONE word to describe myself right now.
I especially couldn't give you a word that wouldn't sound suicidal at this point.
But after thinking about it.....I would love to......I yearn to......I need to.......have a word for myself!
Let's get back to simple.
This is my goal.....I'll let you know how it goes.

Hope

When your heart is drowning
And you sink low
To the depths of the unknown
You seek light
Sometimes
By the fate of something larger than your own existence
A nightlight shines
Brighter than a full moon in the arms of a starless night
And there is hope
Pulling you into her arms
Awakening your sleepy soul
Kissing your warm tears
You lift your head and your tired eyes open
To see the color of life
Awake
You stand
Brush the dust off your heavy heart
And you try to live again
You will make mistakes
You will take roads that lead you to the wrong places
You may even sink to the bottom again
There is always hope
And she will pick you up and cradle you
Hold you until you are ready to face your life once again
Her arms will lead you where you are supposed to be
Hope will always lead you back home

Thank you, Isabel Wolff

As I wipe my eyes and close the book, I am reminded why reading is so sacred to me.  Why I escape through the pages and get lost in the words.
I picked up A Vintage Affair and bought it solely for the yellow printed words on the front......"Read this if you're in need of a serious feel-good factor."-Daily Mail (U.K.)
Well, I was definitely in need of a feel-good factor.....so I bought it. 
The author painted a historical picture like no other.
Her poetic words describe vintage clothing and the fabrics came alive as I read each word and pictured each piece of clothing as though it were hanging right in front of me.
The emotions of human nature come across in her characters and exude warmth, sadness, and friendship within your heart.
The unforgettable history of the Holocaust is embedded in your heart forever as she touches the surface of the suffering administered through such times.
As I read through blurry vision and reach for my tissues, I cry tears of new and of old as her words reach parts of my heart that remind me of my own past. 
I don't know if this book will do the same for you....but it is sure to spark some awakening in your emotions.

Searching for Happiness

There is not a single day that passes that I don't search for happiness
In a fleeting moment
On the smile of a child
A wink from a stranger

I search the dingy corners of my busy life for a sign of sunshine
A cup of laughter
A moment of elation

When I recognize what brings me happiness
I am more successful

Making others happy
Smiling at a lovely child
Laughing with a friend
Eating a cupcake (no sprinkles, please)

I dance to the lyrics of my own music
His voice carries me away
Away from dingy corners
Away from unpleasant conversation

My hips sway
My eyes close
Laughter enters my belly
Fills my heart
Warms my soul
And the corners of my lips slowly turn up
Toward the heavens

My heaven
Where the birds sing
Butterflies dance
And there is no sadness
No hatred
No litter of broken hearts

And there is happiness
Served on a platter of cupcakes
And I take one and eat it
No guilt
No second thoughts

I eat it and I am happy.......

Today

Every day I look for inspiration
I yearn for knowledge
I seek freedom

I hold on to fine memories
and let go of pain and sorrow


I listen to the earth and I hear what she tells me
I respect the trees
Sing with the birds
Adore dancing butterflies

I wish upon stars nestled in the midnight sky
I make pictures out of clouds drifting across the blue horizon

I search for energy for my soul
Laughter for my heart
A smile for my lips

I listen for words
Close my eyes to the music
Dance to my song

I live for today
Tomorrow will be a new day
Yesterday is now a memory

Wanting

Alone
My hands reach out for something
Wanting
My mind is empty
Painfully longing to touch, to feel, to understand
I am drowning in a chaos that suffocates my existence
Forgotten
I am wanting
Pretend I am someone else
Forget that I am troubled
Understand my existence
Let me make mistakes
Lonely
The sun shines down on me
My tears
Salty on my lips
My mouth is wanting
Slowly
Methodically
I sway
I move
I wait
My wings unfold
I want to fly....want to breathe....I want to live

Fallen

Well, I've been writing now for about a month....and I have truly fallen down the rabbit hole once again.
I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
I'm usually a VERY organized person, and I'm all over the freakin place.
I can't seem to get a thought on paper.
I have a great idea...I write...and then it's gone!!!
What does this mean?
I know I was meant to do this.....but I never knew it would be this challenging to get it started.
I thought I would sit down and POOF....I wrote a masterpiece!!!
I can't focus.
I feel like a joke.
I'm having second thoughts.
On top of that, nobody wants to read my poetry.
I know, I know...poetry is not what it used to be.  I'm no Frost or Poe.
So what do I do now?
This is what I do....I create a plan. 
I need to write what I want to write and not worry about who is reading it.
Like right now....I know whoever is reading this probably could give a crap...but I'm still writing it!!!
I have to dive in, not wade, DIVE!
This is it...my chance to do what I was meant to do and I need to TAKE it!!!  Seize it!!  ENJOY it!!
I will fight for my place in writing, I will believe in my writing, and I will become a writer.
I am taking you with me on my journey.......hold my hand and I will strengthen with your support.
Dickinson wrote:

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.  

Nightmare

Night Creeper you haunt my dreams

Your midnight eyes look through me

You come to me with blackened sky

Your death has left me wanting

Let me be

You frighten so

I try so hard to let you go

But still you peak

You listen not

With ragged bones I hear you walk

Night Creeper I beg you still

With parting lips I speak
My mouth is dry
My tongue is numb
I hear no words I seek

The darkness fades with morning light
With weary heart I wake
Still you wait with patient hands
Til daylight turns to night

You have a voice

As a writer and as a human being, so many things inspire me.
Texture, sound, taste.
Smiles, laughter, tears.
Words, music, lyrics.
Nothing inspires me more than human nature.
Jason Mraz has been an inspiration to me for years.
He is a musician, a poet, a humanitarian.
He takes his God-given talent and he uses it to make good.
I follow his blog and recently one of his stories hit me harder than usual.
Mraz has been traveling in Ghana recently and has posted his ventures revolving around a non-profit organization called Free the Slaves (http://www.freetheslaves.net/) that he has become acquainted with.
I was saddened....I was disgusted....I was embarrassed for mankind.
There are 27 million slaves existing in the world today.
These people need a voice.
I truly became inspired in reading about a song Mraz posted that inspired the trip to Ghana. I read the story carefully, clicked play, and then opened my heart.
I closed my eyes, swung my hips, raised my hands to the sky, and let my tears flow freely.
I am free......
Thank God I am free!
I have struggled so long with my writing, but now I have a new reason to write.
I want to share my voice.
I want to inspire others.
I want to make a child smile.
I don't have an abundance of money to give to charity, I don't have a private plane to take me to Third World Countries, and I don't have the luxury to give all my time to assist those in need.....but I do have a voice.
And my voice can get pretty loud.....
Do something good today. Make someone laugh today. Give your love today.
Here is the link to listen to the song that inspired Jason Mraz and many others to share their voice. http://www.myspace.com/lucreynaud
Feel the words with your heart.
Raise your hands up to the sky and thank the Lord that you are free!

Forgotten Star

I followed you....all my life
Until one day I forgot about you
I lost my way
My room was dark
The laughter was gone
My pockets were empty
My body was hungry
I have lost my way
I looked for you
The midnight sky looking down on me
Blinking his sleepy eyes
My loyal star
Still waiting for me to find my way
I closed my eyes and made a wish
I have not forgotten
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a kiss
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sea
The wind on my skin and the salt on my tongue
I opened my eyes and my star was still there
Waiting for my next wish

So very lost....

I have ideas.
I have so many wonderful, enchanting, whimsical ideas racing through my head.
I have outlines.
I have poems.
I have words traveling in and out of my thoughts.
My fingers start typing, and I get lost.
Lost in fear.
Lost in regret (what if?).
Lost in the unknown.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Just write......they tell me.
Can I tell YOU something?
It's not that easy....it's not that simple....it's so much more complicated.
I write.
Then I erase.
I print.
Then I throw it away.
I know, I know....I need therapy.
So it is.
This is me.
Raw. Naked. Flesh.
Tears. Smiles. Laughter.
Scared. Excited. Nervous.
At least I'm here.....doing what I love.
I am thankful. I rejoice in my blessings. I promise to work hard.
Right now I just write....I'm not thinking, I'm just writing.
My thoughts are one with my fingers. Typing away as my mind speaks to my body. This was my husband's advice. Don't think too much. Just do it. Just write it. Let it come naturally.
So I will try this.
I will allow myself to be scared. Allow myself to cry. Allow myself to be nervous.
But I will still write.

Returning to the Hundred Acre Wood

As I step back into the familiar woods, I am immediately humbled by the beauty of friendship and the simplicity of laughter, life, and honey. I have been a fan of A.A. Milne since I was a little girl and as an adult I admire his work and his wise, witty lessons. His simple characters come to life and bring joy to your heart the minute you begin to read. Winnie-the-Pooh fills me with whimsy, joy, and plenty of giggles. The House at Pooh Corner pulls your heart strings as you witness the kindness of others and say good-bye to the dearest of all boys, Christopher Robin (a nickname my sister has called me since she was a little girl).

As I opened Return to the Hundred Acre Wood by David Benedictus, I was skeptical. Authors have continued the legacy of other writers for years......L. Frank Baum, Jane Austen, and Bram Stoker to name a few. I admire these writers who take on the task of proceeding with a work of art composed by another. I am always skeptical. But David Benedictus was a poet, a master....a writer. He continued the legacy of A.A. Milne with dignity, mastery, and poise. Who am I to judge? I am nothing but a humble admirer of a bear full of stuff-and-fluff.....a donkey with an attitude, and a genius owl who can't spell O-W-L!!! If you have never been to the Hundred Acre Woods, go there! Open the book and laugh with your children. Walk through the forest and listen for bees, jump over a babbling brook, and hunt for Woozles. You will not want to come home....but you will be so very satisfied when you leave!

Here I go....

As I graduate and I enter the next phase of my life, all I can think about is writing. Books. Words. A timeless realm to escape and enjoy fantasy, history, and childhood. People ask me, what are you going to do next....and the truth is....I don't know. But I know I will write. I will begin here....on my blog. I want new followers and I want my old followers (thank you to all 3 of you!). This is where it begins.....but this is NOT where it will end!
I am all yours.....your secret poet