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I just refer to it as a grass plant. It looks like someone planted grass and let it go wild. I don’t have a clue what it really is, but it’s a pretty color.

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A few decades later, Forrest Gump said, “Life is like a box of chocolates.” (Well, it was really his mama who said it, but he believed it. By the way, you don’t want to know what I think of that piece of condescending, cinematic buffoonery. Ooooops, I think I just told you. But I digress ….)
This week, after having to stop what I was doing and clean up my floor — twice — I decided I might as well throw in my two cents’ worth on the subject of life. Personally, I’ve about decided that life is like puddles of spilled coffee. They are an aggravation. They are messes that have to be cleaned up. But neither of those facts keeps me from wanting more coffee. They do, however, keep me working harder at trying to keep the coffee in the cup for drinking purposes, rather than using it to mop the floor.
No applause please. It’s just another pearl of great wisdom from my pet oyster.
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Instructions this week include choosing one of five pictures provided by the prompt hostess and writing a poem or prose piece based on that photo. However, my poem was actually prompted by one particular tree near my home, so I’ve used a picture of it here instead of one from the original challenge post.
To take part in this challenge visit “A Dash of Sunny.”

MY HEART BELONGS TO AUTUMN
Leaf by tender leaf,
I watch this stately monarch
Dressing up for fall.
Gold, russet, yellow,
And brilliant red — her choices,
For she loves them all.
Hour by passing hour
The change begins subdued but
Then bursts into flame.
I revel in the site.
My heart belongs to Autumn.
It’s joy calls my name.
The troubles that have pressed
Throughout the year now ending,
Though they’re present still,
Are vanquished by the power
Of Autumn’s golden glory
To subdue all ill.
My heart belongs to Autumn.
Indeed, it always will.
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This week’s prompt delves into the various aspects of loss and the volatile emotions it can cause — and considers the possibility that there is a strong connection between loss and madness. I’m offering two pieces for this challenge. The first is a poem that considers loss without the madness — although making the decision to let the wrong person go from our lives could very possibly help keep us from going mad. The second piece is a work of prose that I actually posted in the past in connection with an entirely different challenge, but it seemed to fit this one so well that I thought it deserved a second bow. It does include a degree of madness connected with loss
DECISION
Let him go.
It’s time to admit you’ve been a fool
And take possession back of your own soul.
At first encounter
You saw the good was mixed with bad
The right choice then by now would make you glad.
But foolish child,
You were intrigued, so closer crept
And threw out counsel that you should have kept.
“Do not touch.”
Three words so easy to understand;
Unguardedly, you opened heart and hand.
It’s harder now,
But still you have to make the choice.
And this time listen to the wiser voice.
You call it love,
But such a love that’s unrequited
Just leaves the soul living life one-sided.
Even if
He claimed to share the love you feel,
The danger of forbidden fruit is real.
Let him go.
And pray the feelings soon will die.
To hope for more would be to live a lie.
Let him go.
SECOND THOUGHTS
I’ve thought about you countless times this past year. I sometimes wish I hadn’t been so hasty to make the decision. There are days when I wake up thinking how good it would be to still have you beside me for a few hours. And, of course, every time I make the curried chicken casserole I think about you. It’s downright lonely in the kitchen these days. And I don’t even cook most of the time. I do carry-out.
I don’t order from our favorite Chinese place, though, and I don’t go in there anymore because they almost always ask me, with sadness in their eyes, how I’m doing now that you’re gone. That gentle couple who own the place really got to like you. I think you were probably their favorite customer during the three years we ate there. I miss the Chinese place, and some of the other haunts we made our own. But I’m finding new interests and new friends, and things will work out.
But — sometimes — on a summer evening — when the windows are open to the gentle night air and someone’s laughter floats across the breeze, it reminds me of your laugh. I think that’s one of the things I miss most about you. You were so abandoned when you thought something was funny. You never held back.
But then, as well as I can remember, you never held back on any emotion. And that fact, of course, is what finally led me to make my decision. You just couldn’t seem to hold back on your feelings for all the other men in your life — even my best friend — a man I’d thought would have my back through thick and thin — especially after all we’d been through together in the war. But you were just too much for him. He fell just like all the others. And so I made the decision.
Yeah — as I consider it all again now — I know it was the right thing to do. It put a stop to the hurting for me and for all the rest of ’em too.
The only thing is that — on nights like tonight — with the fragrance of the roses you planted drifting in from the garden — and the radio playing an old song we used to dance to — well — I have to admit to myself at least — I do feel just a little sorry that I poisoned you.
To participate in this week’s challenge, visit “A Dash of Sunny.”
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I just got to thinking about limericks today and decided I’d gather up several that I’ve offered on here over the past couple years and toss them together for a fun re-post.
THE WAY TO A WOMAN’S HEART

Now, Henry the baker was shy.
But he wanted to marry Miss Fry.
So with icing he wrote
On her cake this brave note:
“If you’ll have me, then I am your guy.”
But Miss Fry was too shy to say “yes.”
So that still left poor Henry a mess.
But he baked some eclairs
To show how much he cared
And delivered them to her address.
Now this courting went on for a year.
And each day Henry thought her more dear.
Though she gained fifty pounds,
In the end she came ’round,
And their wedding day, at last, is here.
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ESCAPE
Well, my journey by train has begun.
As for tickets, I don’t have a one.
With police pressing in,
And this shackle ’round my shin,
All I packed was my trusty old gun.
In the baggage compartment I’ll hide,
And my time I will patiently bide.
When we make the next stop,
From this train I will hop
To the next and continue my ride.
It’s a journey to freedom I take.
And I can’t stop; there’s too much at stake.
Since I’m guilty as sin,
In a court, I can’t win,
But I’ve vowed future crime to forsake.
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LEG-SHACKLED

Nathaniel was feeling quite blue.
To his Darling, he’d been quite untrue.
Though he hadn’t been caught,
With his conscience he fought,
And was trying to think what to do.
He could keep it a secret from her.
If she questioned him, maybe defer.
But if someone else told —
Some old gossip quite bold —
Then his Darling would toss him for sure.
What to do, what to do — so distressed.
It was not that he loved Darling best.
But she had lots of dough,
And his coffers were low.
So perhaps he should crawl and confess.
But, alas, he had let time expire.
Darling charged in, her eyes full of fire.
Six feet tall and quite round —
Nearly three hundred pounds —
She immediate repentance inspired.
She said, “Nate, dear, you should be ashamed.
Your unfaithfulness has caused me pain.
But I know how to fix
You and your bag of tricks.”
Round his leg she did fasten a chain.
Now Nathaniel is faithful and true.
After all, there’s not much else to do.
For his Darling learned fast:
If she wants love to last,
A girl does what she just has to do.
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PLUMB REJECTED
There once was a girl, name of Summer
Who fell madly in love with her plumber
And each day down her drains
Shoved ridiculous things,
But he never caught on. What a bummer.
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LORAINE IN LOVE
There once was a girl named Loraine
Who was wild for engineers of trains.
They could be short or tall;
She just loved them all;
Having one for her own was her aim.
Now, the guys who drove trains all agreed
That Loraine was no prize; no indeed;
So precautions they’d take,
Each to make his escape
When Loraine for a date came to plead.
Then a young engineer came to town
Who was clueless when she came around.
He became so beguiled
When right at him she smiled,
That right then on one knee he went down.
Oh the wedding was really a beut.
On a honeymoon now they’re enroute.
As they sit side by side
Engineer and his bride.
Down the tracks, at full throttle, they scoot.
There’s a moral to this little tale:
That a woman in love never fails.
If she’s made up her mind
And she’s true to her kind,
It’s the end for those poor, helpless males.
~~~
I just can’t get over her hair.
Such a fright everyone has to stare.
She discovered online
That two raw eggs and wine
Would give luster beyond all compare.
So she mixed up the potion exact,
With a pinch of vanilla extract,
Now she smells nice and sweet,
But the eggs, they got beat
When her hair dryer got in the act.
So she’s walking around everywhere
With scrambled eggs now in her hair.
A good lesson she’s learned:
That a girl could get burned.
So with online advice, just BEWARE!
~~~

The generous soul is rarely focused inward.
He constantly lifts eyes in search of one to bless.
And when he recognizes need or pain or emptiness,
He reaches deep within to find a way he can address
And help eliminate the need or the distress.
Exacting and expecting no reciprocation,
He simply pours out of his generousness.
Daily Post Prompt: Generous
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Today’s prompt is “Silence.” I originally wrote the piece below well over a year ago. But it fits the prompt so perfectly that I am giving it a second airing.

THE SONG OF SILENCE
My fingers touched the keys of silence, and I played its song. It pulled from me a longing that I thought was gone forever – the yearning to release my soul in flowing words that birth new life in images and sounds that intertwine and reach another soul and draw it close to mine.
I feared my well was dry, my soul an empty sieve, and that I’d nevermore know a yearning to create with words that live.
Ah … now … the peace, the solace that replaces fear. For now I know I have it still – the gift to make words living things. All it took was spending time with silence for a while, and as it’s music played, it filled my well again.
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Question # 1: Are you a hugger or non-hugger?
In general, I’m a hugger – although not with perfect strangers. There have been a very few times when I found myself with a stranger, who may have needed some help, and, due to the nature of our interaction, it seems appropriate to give them a hug when we parted. And, of course, there are that handful of people who are on my permanent “do-not-hug” list, generally just because I don’t feel comfortable about them. But chances are, if any of my blogging friends came along, even though I’d be meeting them physically for the first time, I’d definitely give them a big hug. I feel very comfortable with most all the people I’ve been blessed to know through our blogging community.
Question # 2: What is your least favorite candy?
Anything sour!
Question # 3: What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “fun”?
Writing. I know; I know … you’re all thinking, “She’s nuts.” I can’t help it. I love to write, and for me it is fun. Now, there are some times when it’s aggravating, nerve-wracking, and frustrating. But those times are the exceptions rather than the rule. However, I do have to say that playing word games with friends, reading, and eating chocolate all tie for second place.
Question #4: What smells do you love?
Coffee brewing
Lavender
Rain
Honeysuckle
Vanilla
Raspberry
Peonies
Peppermint
Fresh-baked bread
Cookies baking
To take part in the fun visit Cee’s site.
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Togetherness was certainly the theme of this classic movie scene from “Shall We Dance.” (1937). The song is by Gus Kahn and Harry M. Woods. It’s sung on this video by husband and wife duo Steve Lawrence and Edie Gorme. Skaters are Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, who made many wonderful movies ‘side by side.’
To participate in the challenge fun, visit the Daily Post.
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It was a fragile moment:
I trembled on the brink;
Offering my whole heart —
Won’dring what he’d think.
But in that fleeting moment,
He grasped my hands in his,
And bowing close, with sweet breath,
Blessed me with his kiss.
To participate visit here.
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For today’s prompt, I decided nothing could fit better than the logo for the ministry the Lord called me to establish a few years ago. I’ll also include the link to its Facebook Page in case you’d like to know more about it.

Do participate, visit the Daily Post here.
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