children
pets
chores
laundry
fields
grudge
self
2019
© Anita Adams 2020
Put to Rest
Writing Prompts
Behind the Veil
life exists
hidden
truths, lies, denial, laughter, love, balance and so much more
behind the veil, once lifted, one can not return to what was – only to accept what is
behind the veil
© Anita Adams 2020
At Last
The prompt was to re-write an obituary
Ethel Marie Shamoon Henry, married and Catholic, daughter of two and Situ to one, died age 89 of complications while agonizing over the last pages of her memoir. She couldn’t remember the details upon which she left her home at age 16, mentally or 17, physically? She never understood her life not turning out the way she dreamed – college educated, managing her own business, traveling the globe. Ethel was tired.
She was tired of this story. Tired of her life without the education she longed for and the places she wanted to live and traveled after she’d raised her own children, she was just tired!
Her REAL exhaustion came when she decided to prepare her own obituary and thought to herself – dang woman – haven’t you had enough? When will you begin living the life you wanted? Dreamed of? Longed for? Or, have you been all along, but just hadn’t noticed it in full? Give it up! Turn it over! Live this day the way you want – with whom you want – say what you mean – but, DON’T say it mean! Life is short! Remember, your last sunset. Your last words to those closest to you. The last color you saw. The last bird you heard. The last smile you smiled, The last laugh you laughed. The last prayer you uttered. Remember, smile, laugh and move on.
Move on to TODAY! Are you ready? She opened her eyes while lying peacefully in a down covered hammock next to her pond and waterfall oasis, gazed up at the clouds and said – Yes! It’s been a good life! A Full life! I have loved. I have been loved. I’ve colored, created art and captured. I’ve said what I wanted to say, traveled much, walked and hiked often. And I married a man who loved me until my dying breath. I’m ready.
Just then, her eyes closed again, and this time, she had a soft, childlike smile upon her face, the sun was setting in the west with a rainbow of colors like the one she’d seen so many years ago upon Max Patch. As she exhaled her last breath. Finally, Ethel was at peace and rest. – Amen.
Services will be held in the local Catholic Church with On Eagle’s Wings playing as she is escorted to the grave site of her beloved sister, Roxane. All are welcomed to visit now and again. Bring your favorite heart rock and share one with another. Dark chocolate and coffee to be served.
Anita Adams 4/15/19
Where was love when the light went out?
Where does love go when the light goes out? A question he asked once as a young man in his 60’s . He doesn’t remember asking these days. However, the question is a good one and has remained with me. How to answer this? Love is always present within every human being I believe. For some, a place in the dark could also represent a place of silence, loneliness, or the sound of mental chatter grinding away while one wishes for a lover’s embrace.
As a child, I recall needing two doors left wide open, and a nightlight on at all times in order to feel safe enough to close my eyes and attempt to go to sleep. Where was love in this dark twin bed on the third floor of Macon Avenue?
Why was light the only key to my safety?
Where was love when this light went out?
~ Anita Adams 2/4/2019
Lullaby of Spring to Summer
Lullabys are lazy and fluid – like a warm summer breeze or a slow moving river
- – a summer breeze that ever so lightly ruffles the thin window sheers,
- – or a slow moving river that barely carries the thick blanket of pollen to the ocean like a giant barge moving train cars through a canal in winter, not as fast as an inch worm.
Lullabys, like this summer breeze, sometimes brings with it a fragrant smell of honeysuckle followed by a hint of clover and wild roses. A smell that’s so intoxicating and memorable. That smell alone, whispers a lullaby that spring has become summer.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Remember the familiar lullaby that begins:
hush little baby, don’t you cry now sings….
honeysuckle and clover will soon visit to soothe your tired eyes
the sun shines through the sheers letting you know – you are not alone
hush little baby, don’t you cry beckons…
the doves play outside your window, playing leap frog or piggy back over pillows
hush little baby, don’t you cry…
the river’s singing a whisper to sleep soundly, all is well, make a wish upon the fireflies and soon the night sky will light up like the 4th of July.
hush little baby, don’t you cry … close your eyes … wish upon a star … dry your tears — smell the the sky… and dream of fireflies on the 4th of July.
© Anita Adams 5/14/2018
Love Light like stars twinkling in the sand
Somewhere over the Crescent Moon
A stone’s tale
she touched it, rolled it around in her hands
what does this stone have to say, what is its tale
the stone that looks like two lovers
cold and gray
two lovers with a cloak
together they form a heart
a heart made of stone
a stone from the earth
whose journey was a rough and tumbling one
as they traveled in the river once large
to a creek, wearing their edges
whispering to one another
their dreams
picked up by a stranger
found on a path or in a stream
in some random place
on a day unknown
male and female
clinging to one another through the elements
determined to hold one another until the end
whose tight grip formed a heart
a heart of stone
©Anita Adams 2018
Three things she told me NEVER to do
Title: SHE SAID NEVER…
- Talk to strangers.
- Sit on the toilet seat.
- speak up in the presence of adults, unless spoken to first. (Implied not ‘told’)
Let’s examine the NEVERS:
#1. Talk to strangers? If one is lost, you must ask a stranger how to get home.
#2. Sit on the toilet seat. – I TOTALLY agree with this one ~ Never !
#3. Speak up in the presence of adults. – Totally disagree. If I never speak up in the presence of adults, the lesson learned is my value is unimportant and it’s better to remain invisible.
The preceding was a prompt from my latest Writing Workshop with Victoria Fann.
I thoroughly enjoy writing prompts and what comes when I let go. Below is another reply to this same prompt, that manifested itself a few days later.
Title: THREE FEMALE GHOSTS
Who proclaimed the following:
- You can’t get up!
- You can’t leave!
- You can’t go out!
Called to Write 