Small Town Girltalk
© Downtown Mojo and Small Town Girltalk, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Downtown Mojo and Small Town Girltalk with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Listening to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAXPpDihQMc
Here’s a virtual world where sharing information let’s you know how small this world really is and how much we all have in common living on the Earth. Here’s a way to express our thoughts which enables us to have a release of bottled up frustrations to voice our opinions.
Life is a learning experience and we need all the help we can get.
Lesson 1 –
No matter what anyone says you will not listen.
I’ve become very inspired to write poetry with photos I’ve taken.
Here’s a poem I wrote and a photo which I took after climbing to the top of a cliff overlooking Marigot Bay in St. Lucia.
There Wait
There’s nothing there in the blades of grass,
Nor the mulched beds of flowers that past,
Where upon did wear an invisible cloak,
Under the cold and harsh winter choke,
Waiting there until you could finally see,
It wasn’t time for me to be unveiled to thee,
I waited there and watched everyday,
For the spring in March, April and May,
Until the day when you would appear,
I’ll wait without having any fear,
Dawn til dusk I’ll wait I must,
The day is coming in this I trust,
There wait and for now continue to wait,
My bounty tied in your mysterious fate,
Wrong for me to ask whilst in mourning,
Free me from agonizing extended suffering,
Where is my gentle soul and kindred spirit,
That makes my heart soar within your light,
The delicate first flowers came out of hiding,
Crushed by the pounding and nearly dying,
Their remains lying anguished on the ground,
Have no strength to pick up and carry on,
But sleep like lazy sheep an immortal rest,
Their destiny and fate no one can guess,
Predetermined as light shined a new dawn,
Awakened from deep slumber tired yawn,
The blaze was strong and harsh as fire,
And the wind blew the last leaf I did admire,
Just as I thought before my life became anew,
The unbridled winter days were still but few,
Was there to be any more of the ice and cold,
Will I be lifted up before I get too tired and old,
There wait, and trust you will come to me,
I believe it is real nor was it not just a dream,
The angels spoke and heaven’s stars did glow,
The night was gone and the rain did flow,
Were they the tears from heaven which fell,
Freeing me from my self-imprisoned cell,
Softly spoken drops of rain whisper in my ear,
Why did you doubt me or have any fear,
The voice was clear wasn’t it I who came for you,
To fill your needs and desires as I set out to do,
That you should not want or suffer in vain,
I came with my coat of many colors again,
There wait, trust I’ll come to you I heard,
And then, singing softly by a little bird,
It is the rise of a new morning and spring is now,
The longing is over and I’ve made it somehow,
I called your name and you came to me,
Restored my life, my faith and letting me see.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Listening to: John Melloncamp – Small Town
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPgxay8p8TQ
Happy Valentine’s Day ❤
No date? Consider going through your closet and donate to your favorite charity for families that are less fortunate.
Lesson 2:
The only person whose behavior you can do anything about is your own.
It appears that nature takes its course, and really we lack control over anything that happens in our lives. The only thing we can do is change how we react to situations that arise. It’s comforting to me to express my feelings through poetry and photography. Hope you enjoy!
My Rose of Sharon
Their beauty, pain.
As flower petals in the rain,
Among hail and ice,
Cold, frozen over – twice.
Looking outside the door,
Whilst thou to be no more,
As the birch lay down,
Arms of pines cease to crest,
No flowers, no nest,
Sparrow, wren and crow,
Where to rest, they know,
Cultivar at best cannot,
Stand all that has given – not,
Save from the storm,
The flower I mourn,
‘Aphrodite’ my Rose of Sharon,
Deep rose-pink flowers,
Wink a dark eye no more,
Release me consequential universal powers,
Moonbeams and spring sun-showers,
Not thy endure, fail to undo,
The time pre-slated,
Only you knew and waited.
Photo: Rose of Sharon: Hibiscus syriacus
This particular variety was given to me by my best friend when I moved into this place and still grows in the same spot 20 years later. (Thanks bff!)
Lesson 3 –
The truth always comes out.
You better run, you lousy chicken, before someone makes you into chicken soup!
Small Town Girltalk 