Good Morning

Good write, more truth than most of mankind would like to believe. I think I'll fix something to eat and stay at home.

Oh my, I'm lost for words! Sounds like a losing battle between rodents, cat and man.

Promises; promise are made only to be broken, you see it happening everywhere you look. The only thing we know for sure is the sun rises and the sun sets.

Viewing the world from here behind my computer screen, I think, "what a f**ked up world!"

You have a such great talent, a gift to write, this is a great write.

-My employment of twenty-five years took me behind closed doors, it is behind those closed doors that people will tell you their personal stories. It is where they feel safe, it is their home, that is where you will find their heart and soul. I have a great deal of compassion for folks so I was good at what I did. And, their stories went no farther, their stories stayed with me, they could trust me. My personal story is still untold, perhaps, one day someone will sit down beside me in my home where I feel safe and listen to my story. Trusting people no longer comes easy for me, I've seen too much during my life time working in public service.

I posted this in a topic of it's own but decided it should be a continuation of this topic also.

Flower Beds

There was this eighty year old housewife
with the most beautiful flower beds,
well groomed, well cared for, no doubt
someone put time and energy planning
and caring for the beautiful flower beds.

There came a time when her husband
of sixty years was diagnosed with cancer
and it was decided that she would care for
him at home because he would have it
no other way, no nursing home for him!

That is when I had a chance to listen to her story
behind those closed doors of her home.
All was not as it appeared, to those passing by.
Folks had no idea of the abuse she had to endure
through those sixty years of marriage.

She told of verbal, physical, and emotional
abuse, of the times he would get up
from the dining table and turn it over just
because the food wasn't salted to his liking,
or a comment made not to his way of thinking.

All their family, friends and neighbors
helped them celebrate sixty years of marriage,
with great escalation and admiration.
Their grown children knew about the abuse
behind closed doors but it was the family secret.

I listened, as I often did to the tales folks
kept behind closed doors. When asked, "how
she managed through the years." She pointed
to her flower bed, straightened her back, and
said, "see those flower beds, that is where I
spent my time when life got tough!"

Hard to imagine but when she was a young wife
women had hardly any rights, a man's home
including his wife and children were his property.
He was the law inside his home. She had no where to turn,
but to God and her' flower beds!

Sparky, thank you for dropping by and commenting...

Well done...

Morning, Java time here, another bitterly cold day.

Tommo, This is not my personal story, I don't believe I am made of what that fine lady was.

-My employment of twenty-five years took me behind closed doors, it is behind those closed doors that people will tell you their personal stories. It is where they feel safe, it is their home, that is where you will find their heart and soul. I have a great deal of compassion for folks so I was good at what I did. And, their stories went no farther, their stories stayed with me, they could trust me. My personal story is still untold, perhaps, one day someone will sit down beside me in my home where I feel safe and listen to my story. Trusting people no longer comes easy for me, I've seen too much during my life time working in public service.

Joe/phD -acknowledged and appreciated

This was an easy write for me, the words just flowed when I put my fingers to the keypad. I've always felt such compassion for this lady, her life story touched every emotion I have ever felt.

Usually, I struggle to write so you can imagine my joy in being able to complete in one sitting. And, it is a true story

After reading your post this morning, it so inspired me to spend the morning writing "Flower Bed" about an elderly lady I learned to respect because of her great outlook despite what life events tossed her way. There may be some hope for me yet, I just might find my passion.

This is a great post, again, thank you for sharing.

Flower Beds

There was this eighty year old housewife
with the most beautiful flower beds,
well groomed, well cared for, no doubt
someone put time and energy planning
and caring for the beautiful flower beds.

There came a time when her husband
of sixty years was diagnosed with cancer
and it was decided that she would care for
him at home because he would have it
no other way, no nursing home for him!

That is when I had a chance to listen to her story
behind those closed doors of her home.
All was not as it appeared, to those passing by.
Folks had no idea of the abuse she had to endure
through those sixty years of marriage.

She told of verbal, physical, and emotional
abuse, of the times he would get up
from the dining table and turn it over just
because the food wasn't salted to his liking,
or a comment made not to his way of thinking.

All their family, friends and neighbors
helped them celebrate sixty years of marriage,
with great escalation and admiration.
Their grown children knew about the abuse
behind closed doors but it was the family secret.

I listened, as I often did to the tales folks
kept behind closed doors. When asked, "how
she managed through the years." She pointed
to her flower bed, straightened her back, and
said, "see those flower beds, that is where I
spent my time when life got tough!"

Hard to imagine but when she was a young wife
women had hardly any rights, a man's home
including his wife and children were his property.
He was the law inside his home. She had no where to turn,
but to God and her' flower beds!

Sadness, life experiences, often leave us with memories we would like to forget only to haunt us in our dreams. One day long ago, I learned to accept that I couldn't save everyone, I always dreamed of moving to a grassy mountain top to tend sheep, away from all the crazyness. Lonely? Perhaps, but away from the stress and craziness. People are often not kind to themselves let alone others, sheep are gentle and trusting.

I can't imagine what life is like for the folks on the streets and slums of the big cities! Even the greatest warrior is not able to save everyone. Thanks for sharing your dream.

It is a Thursday morning, 7 AM here in central Missouri with snow flurries and cold temperatures. I plan to stay inside.

Brilliant, this may go to the top of my all time favorites. I love it.

This one of my all time favorites. I wonder if anyone else remembers trying this.

Do you still ride horses?