Poems By Rebecca
View ProfileThey said to talk in T words today in honor of Tuesday and Thursday so we are not turned away at the gates of the city of Turrets. We are just weary travelers that have traveled upon many a train trestle today. We need to find rest at a trusted tavern so we can sit and sip the best tea in the city of Turrets so we can once again travel on the train back to the land of Tuesday and Thursday.
Beauty is all around us even if we think all is lost amongst the hustle and loudness of our busy lives. You just need to step into a meadow of stillness and quite. Let the sunshine fall upon your up turned face and feel a slight breeze upon your shoulders. All of life’s busyness will come into perspective.
This time of year songs are sung that haven’t been heard since last year . Decorations come out that are a bit dusty cause they have been in hibernation for a year . Our hearts become a bit mushy thinking of family members that aren’t still with us . We also think of family that are still with us has we gather gifts .
We think of the year in review has we think of the up and coming year that is approaching. We stand on the threshold of a new year where anything is possible and wonder what will conspire before this time next year.
Merry Christmas and Happy New year.
Life is never what you want it to be but you can rest assured that it will all change once the storm passes and the sun shines once again.
Time is ticking by the years go faster and faster lives move on and children become adults and adults become older adults. Life stops for no one so we must not morn the past but keep moving forward into what our future brings because we don’t know the hour or time when it shall all end!
Life is a journey that is filled with twenty-four hour adventures. Some are wonderful and some not so wonderful. They are like beads strung upon a thread that makes up our stories and history. When the journey is drawing to the end we tie a good strong and beautiful knot at the end. A good journey full of twenty- four hours adventures .
What if you just start to write without a theme without aim … what then will become of your thoughts will they wander aimlessly about… till they hit upon a rocky shores of discontent… or will they fly out of the atmosphere where the stars live to only to come back to emptiness… aimless wandering leaves upon a fall breeze… falling, falling, wandering words … a blowing wind on a warm summer day bringing the new storm upon your shore. What if you start writing words with no aim or reason?
The winds howls around an old oak tree that stands alone upon the hill top. The leaves shudder , the branches creek the wind howls. It is the harbinger of the days of winter. The wind howls the old oak stands and the roots run deep even if it’s branches creek and moan the tree will never lose its ground .