"I don't want to be a passenger in my own life." ---Diane Ackerman
--Response to this Sunday Scribblings prompt
A passenger is something we all may be
From time to time
Or shall we drive
Be in control
Call the shots
Perhaps its better
To chase the wind
Follow the dancing leaves and become caught
In an intoxicating dance
Possibly finding
A welcome surprise
STOP
Not I, the strong mind
Shall join the dance
The dance is scary
Dancing unknown
I am content
To follow
My own road
WAIT
If for once I could dare
To trust
To sit beside a dear friend
With an open mind
Perhaps I could find
An old dirt road
Where sunshine is
And the proverbial greener grass
Really grows
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Sweet Bedtime Memories
Once upon a time there was a little curly haired girl named Abigail who loved to read stories at bedtime. Her mom would snuggle into her little bed with her and they would read story after story. She particularly love one named When Momma Comes Home Tonight
Abigail and her mother would read books so many times over that soon Abigail would "read" the books with her mommy. Then one day Abigail came home from school and she was really reading bedtime stories by herself. This was a joyous occasion. Abigail and her mommy would read bedtime stories together for many happy years. Then Abigail and her mommy would each read their own books snuggled in Abigail's mommy's bed. Abigail's mommy would usually fall asleep and Abigail would use this opportunity to turn off the lights and stay in her mommy's bed all night long.
Well times have changed, Abigail is a tween now, and straightens her curly hair, and would rather read on the internet or play video games than read a bedtime story. Abigail's mom still tries to encourage her to read, but not too much because Abigail wants to do whatever her mom says not to do.
Abigail's mommy is no longer a friend, or a reading buddy, but a parent. A full blown adult who in Abigail's eyes is not as cool as Hannah Montana.
Just when Abigail's mommy thought all hope was lost....................she saw Abigail..................snuggle up on the couch....................and read a bedtime story...............to her little baby cousin.
Abigail and her mother would read books so many times over that soon Abigail would "read" the books with her mommy. Then one day Abigail came home from school and she was really reading bedtime stories by herself. This was a joyous occasion. Abigail and her mommy would read bedtime stories together for many happy years. Then Abigail and her mommy would each read their own books snuggled in Abigail's mommy's bed. Abigail's mommy would usually fall asleep and Abigail would use this opportunity to turn off the lights and stay in her mommy's bed all night long.
Well times have changed, Abigail is a tween now, and straightens her curly hair, and would rather read on the internet or play video games than read a bedtime story. Abigail's mom still tries to encourage her to read, but not too much because Abigail wants to do whatever her mom says not to do.
Abigail's mommy is no longer a friend, or a reading buddy, but a parent. A full blown adult who in Abigail's eyes is not as cool as Hannah Montana.
Just when Abigail's mommy thought all hope was lost....................she saw Abigail..................snuggle up on the couch....................and read a bedtime story...............to her little baby cousin.
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