Well folks, I'm nervous about this, but I'll give it shot. My boyfriend, Johnny also known as Elmer J. Fudd on the board is pushing me hard to finish this book. I don't know if it's worth a shyte or not. Any cridics here? It's in a rough stage and chopped up right now but here goes.......................... I welcome your thoughts.
Candles of Light
Written by JUANI O?QUINN
Once, long ago there was darkness with candles for light. The darkness was domestic violence, physical, mental, emotional and sexual. This book is dedicated to all victims of abuse
and to the monkeys, my candles of light, which enriched my life and made it possible to finally leave the domestic violence.
INTRODUCTION
Passive Dependence Personality Disorder
Around and around the maiden went,
Not knowing where she was being sent.
The blows to the stomach where the unborn child lived,
Did not matter to the one who kicked.
Walks in a cool forest and the peace that is brought forth, helps with the bad memories that seems so long ago. The pieces of sunlight that is filtered through seems to be in harmony with my thoughts.
Memories of the past years come and go with time, flashes of pain still hurt. Therefore, here comes a true story told by a victim of violence, of many years, close to thirty.
The psychological term passive dependence personality disorder comes to play in almost every domestic violence situation. The abuser has to be in complete control physically and mentally. You would think Hitler, Stalin or of others who have used control for their own gain, yet domestic violence is a sickness that is inflicted on others. To gain control, the abuser uses his methods of brutality.
Evil is a term that I would like to use for the abusers of the world, for they seem to have no conscious. The victims of physical, mental and emotional violence are the ones who suffer, yet they are capable of healing from the damage inflicted on them. The ones that inflict the pain are the ones that are sick and they usually do not heal or seek help.
My thoughts on this subject are that they live in denial and will never face the fact that they have hurt anyone. The abuser does not think or feel for anyone but himself. The evil ones are not capable of giving love or receiving love. That is why I think the word evil is appropriate for the abusers of domestic violence.
My story is not a new, it is common yet I feel it is important that I write this truth, in order to set others and myself free. The healing process, for the victims of domestic violence is to understand the meaning of forgiveness. Victims of domestic violence have problems with forgiveness, for they tend to blame themselves.
Victims of violence tend to believe they are weak, yet they are not. They can overcome passive dependence personality disorder because the abused are capable of healing and growing to a level, beyond any expectations.
What is passive dependence personality disorder? Given the scenario of the situation with domestic violence, the victim is not allowed to make decisions on her own. The abuser who is in complete control does it all when it comes to the life of another.
Chapter 1
The Naïve
There was a young woman, who thought she was fine,
She would have a nice white house,
With a brave, knight who loved her,
Dreams are nice yet hope is even more kind.
Being young is refreshing, yet the truth hits home when it comes to domestic violence. You marry someone you do not know. The abuser slowly works his charm to the extent of cruelty. In my case, the indications came verbally first. Criticism slowly brought me down to the point to where I thought I was ugly and could not do anything right. Everything was my fault when things did not go as planned by my abuser. The dictator usually wants a baby first thing. That ties a knot of dependence in the case of abuse.
The victim feels completely helpless and worthless. In my case, there are many things through the years seem so long ago. The times I tried to leave the domain of the dictator, but I failed so many times. Threats of killing our baby, if I left.
This story begins not with the marriage, but to my own childhood. As a small child, I witnessed a father, who came home intoxicated. I could hear the shouts and watch my drunken father outside with a rifle. My mother begged him to come inside. He was waking up the whole neighborhood, yet he did not care. I watched and listened while father called my Mom ugly names, I did not understand the words but I knew they were bad. Mom cried while being shoved. There were many nights like this even after I left home, to what I thought would be a better and happy life.
A Christmas visit to see my mom, found the tree and decorations on the floor, destroyed by a man who was not happy with his life or family. My own life was not any better if not worse. The physical abuse started shortly after becoming pregnant and through out the following months. It was continued and now there was a new baby to beat on, even though the child was born with a serious birth defect. Statics show a large percentage of birth defects are related to physical abuse.
Change
My life seemed upside down when I finally escaped from my home and husband. My new place was so cold and strange. My peace of mind was confusion. Life consisted of fast driving, getting lost and exploring new roads. There was no one to guide me or tell me what to do or how to do it. I had to learn fast to survive. People seemed to be in a world of their own and for themselves, no one else. I felt used and abused many times. There was a coldness inside of me that I did not understand.
1
The Lost Spirit
A long rainy drive by night,
To no name streets by city light.
Droplets spiral in a dance,
On the glass a special prance.
Upward into a pattern unique,
Forever a memory I will keep.
Healing was slow and my group therapy involved women with similar stories. We were told we were healing and of course, I asked, "Are we sick?" The reply was silence and then a slow answer "no, you are wounded by abuse." It took three months to finally realize what the counselor meant. Trips to the library and hours of reading gave me more education on forgiveness and what it means.
My understanding of forgiveness does not involve the abuser. The wounded has to learn to forgive herself or himself. The scenario of accepting the blame for so many years is a mistake that has to be rectified. Forgiveness of oneself is the first step to recovery. The abused must learn to love themselves and appreciate their talents. Healing is a slow process and time does help.
Change is a name given to a tiny creature that appeared suddenly into my small retreat. The darkness and cold was there as I was suddenly awakened from the nightmare. I jumped out of bed because something had fallen on my chest. The small furry animal was as frightened as I was, for it had disappeared. My eyes searched for what I thought might be a rat.
My eyes finally adjusted to the dim light. I discovered a pleasant sight frozen in place on the wall. A baby flying squirrel had come into my life. Change became my companion and room mate for the following months.
My Friend
Rattle rattle, who's there,
Something in my box beware,
Large dark eyes peek at me,
As if to say, pet me, please.
My peace was constantly interrupted with prank calls. The permanent restraining order against my husband was just a piece of paper. The counselor recommended I answer the calls. Of course, there was just silence on the other end of the phone line. The evil one had gotten my phone number and I did not know who had given it to him. I trusted my daughter completely so it had to be someone else or so it seemed.
Thanksgiving was a lonely day and Change seem to sense my sadness. The calls were one every hour on the hour until midnight. I finally nodded off to be awakened by a loud crash. A shattered saltshaker laid in pieces on the floor. Change knew I was searching
2
for the one who did it. The discovery of my friend in the bathroom was an experience I
will never forget. Sitting on a stack of bath towels Change sat waiting for me. The large
beautiful eyes stared at me as if to demand my attention. I felt strange as I stared back.
The food dish and water bowl were full. A bond formed between Change and myself that
morning. I talked to Change for hours with kindness and love, while looking into the eyes
of a tender spirit. Change will always be in my heart forever.
Christmas was just a nightmare to me. I was awakened early in the cold morning hours by Change. The food bowl was empty and Change decided to knock a heavy picture of my daughter and MoMo, our baby monkey off the shelf above my face. The picture put a cool breeze to my face as it landed in the floor. It had barely missed my face but luckily, it had not broken. I promptly got off the futon to check what was wrong. The broccoli and apple was gone. Change was depending on me for food and a home. Getting up early in the cold, I decided to shop for Christmas. A trip on the lonely road to the mall, a bookstore was open. Books of healing were purchased for the only person I trusted, my daughter. Picture frames were purchased for the new pictures for others, my mother and relatives. These pictures were also for my daughter as a Christmas gift. I was trying to create new memories to replace the old. I hand delivered all my gifts. Traveling over a hundred miles after Christmas to take my daughter and her boyfriend out to dinner was a not pleasant. My daughter was sick and I realized it was not just physical. I sensed something was wrong with our relationship. There were no pictures on her wall and she seemed to be disappointed with my gifts.
Plans to return to familiar territory and people were formed. Change would have to be set free and learn to survive without me. The night was cool and starlit. Change quickly faded into the dark forest as I watched with sadness. A light breeze fluttered across my face as I stood by myself. I would miss my friend but I knew it was meant to be. My friend seemed to be the only one there I could trust while living in this cold strange place. The word freedom finally hit home. I was free from the dictator physically.
The move took two long trips to haul my belongings to store them in a shack outside. There were no walls just plastic to protect my memories from the elements. Even though I had to pay the widower for a bedroom, her expectations collided with mine. I stood firm about closet space for my clothes. She reluctantly consented to my request.
Much to my surprise a special little furry creature came to me the first morning. Laying on its back, shaking like a leaf at my feet. I stared not realizing what the animal was. Then I understood it was a lost pet ferret looking for a home. My friend and I fixed a bowl of dog food and water for the small hungry pet. Since I had no place of my own, a call to her sister was made. The ferret was given away. I had come to this place to get a job and survive. I did not have the means to take care of any animals.
The night that changed my entire life happened in my friend's garage. My heart was set in a frame to never love or trust a man again. It seemed that destiny had other plans for me. This man was different and was determined to win my heart. It is hard to start a relationship after the deep hurt from a marriage. A marriage of abuse, which I had learned to accept with time.
3
The StrangerThe eyes were cold and black
Words of hate were never slack.
Days of misery wore on so long
Oh where do I belong?
The last year with my husband was a strange and bizarre situation. My survival instinct kicked in automatically as I went into a numb stage. I sensed something new but could not understand.
My mind told me there was someone else but my heart could not accept it. A husband came home sick with a rash on a certain area and a bottle of antibiotics sent the message straight to my soul. A trip to a large department store on my birthday furnished free literature about domestic violence. I hid the brochure in my purse to read later.
While the violent one was working my discovery on a shelter and toll free numbers were being called. My diet was down to almost nothing because of verbal cruelty, which came in the form of screaming, "Who ate my food?" I was called lazy and no good for nothing. I could not wash clothes to his taste, the food I cooked was not good, and my housecleaning sucked. I was told I was taking away from the family financially because of the monkeys. I was physically kicked from our bed for talking in my sleep, was told I was sick, and needed help. I was screamed at the rest of the night and morning. I was called a deficit. The situation had escalated to the point of no return.
The education from the literature gave me the courage to plan a way of staying home yet the plan backfired. I decided to stand up to my husband and call the police for help when he lost control. His temper and manner was seen with different eyes that night. My eyes were opened to the truth and the hate. I could not call for help because of the engrained fear. I realized I would have to leave my home and sell my babies in order to escape. I felt like I was dying emotionally and physically. My actions were automatic and there were hours of just crying. Our daughter started staying with friends and I was alone to mourn my loss. The grief was already there before the escape.
Only one person was there to help me and that aid came from my sister-in-law. The sun was shining yet I was blind to the beauty around me. My friend tried to cheer the time with jokes but they fell on deaf ears. I was numb and oblivious. My whole world had changed and I felt lost. I knew I had to leave a life I had known for almost thirty years to something unknown. I was afraid while grieving for my children and my daughter. My children sensed and seem to to grieve with me.
My tiny primates seemed to know I was in a world of my own. I knew for me to leave, they would also suffer the unknown. Their world and home was being destroyed by the ultimate decision that I had made. Fights among my children broke out because of the tension around them. The abuse was heard and witnessed through their senses.
A call to my mother made the decision to leave inevitable. My mother needed special tests for cancer. I made the appointment at a famous cancer center in my state. The stage was being set for a reunion with my mom and two sisters.
MY CANDLES OF LIGHTTheir beautiful, trusting eyes stared at me,Through the small wire doors,The tiny primate hands touched mine,Hot tears flowed,My heart was still there even though, I felt it was gone,I was losing the only treasures,that truly loved me as their own.
The hardest thing I faced was selling my babies. My daughter had left even though I had asked her to stick it out with me to the end. I was alone in this nightmare. I was sacrificing my babies to be free and away from the evil one.
My children were sold as package deals at better than bargain prices because I felt the need to leave fast. I felt like I was dying inside.
Nowhere to Hide
I want to run,I want to hide,I want to tear down,These walls that,Hold me inside.
An unusual change occurred as soon as I was free. I became reckless, uncaring for my own safety. I boldly approached groups on back streets of the big city. I demanded directions politely yet firmly. The shaved-headed youths seem stunned, and a few backed away. At that era, I did not understand or care. I was still in shock yet did not realize it.
When I visited my daughter and the hometown, I carried pepper spray and the permanent restraining order along with the cell phone. I remained on my guard 24-7 for danger from the evil one .
At my retreat, I slept with a pistol under my pillow and the pepper spray in my hand. A large wooden dowel was placed as a preventative on the sliding glass door of my temporary home every night.
I do not know what or why I was so afraid yet I was. Ingrained fear from physical abuse had me where I was. The physical abuse brings on the thought of more hurt. I did not trust the divorced landlord or my widowed male neighbor. I did not understand or want to understand men period.
5
The Land of the Dead
The zombies walk with eyes of void,
Some young, middle age and old.
Skinny, average build and obese,
Not looking up, down or around,
Aimless directions in a crowd.
The electric carts creak as they run,
Slowly carrying the injured, elderly and plump.
The deaf and blind walk with a phone,
No sight or sound in a world of their own.
My first steady work came in the form of low pay at the biggest retail store. Over three years of surviving on small unsteady income along with credit card cash advances, here I was with my blue slave vest. The pay was low and the bills were high. Rushing through the noisy crowds to get to a time clock is a memory I would like to forget. The work was demanding; as were the customers. The schedule was erratic and there was not a regular sleeping pattern. One day of work ended at eleven p.m., the next workday would be seven a.m. to four p.m. Insomnia was at its worse during this low-paying job. This minimal work was torture to endure. There were all classes of people to work with and deal with. The physical result was baker?s cysts and pain from the constant walking and heavy lifting .
The ConspiracyLions and tigers and bears oh my!That is what you get when you conspire a lie.The holding tank was ice cold and crowded. The small bright room smelled of urine. Sitting on the dirty concrete floor, I noticed a large amount of pubic hair. Someone was sleeping on the small bench. The jailers had full view of everyone in the room. The place was busy and loud. The jailers ignored the request for clothes. I was freezing and cold inside too. My daughter had deceived her own mother by lying to the police, along with my husband?s girlfriend. Together they conspired a lie that landed me in jail. The bland food for breakfast went untouched and was given away. I was released on my own reconnaissance but it took hours to finally leave. I called work and was told to come in. I had lost five hours of work and went in relentlessly until eleven p.m. I worked on hate without any sleep or food. This case was a sham luckily I had a public defender who finally believed my story. I lost four more hours at my new job because of the court hearings. The subpoena for my own phone records proved my innocence.
The New GenerationThe music was different and not nice,It had no rhythm or rhyme.Their clothes were loose; falling to show underwear,The hair was shaved and painted.The new generation was somewhat a shock,No respect, spoiled and want a lot.Earrings everywhere,From their privates to their eyes and tongue.Chains rattle on their clothes,As they walk and talk.Games of electronic sort,These can not be the flower children,.The bellbottom jeans exposed fat,Even worse tattoos and belly rings.
Exposure to all types of people from different countries gave me insight to accents and character. The experience with the young people told me how old I was. I felt behind the times yet I appreciated the fact I wasn?t blind.
Time passes so quick when you realize you are getting old. You want to age gracefully and hope nature has been kind. If you are kind to others you hope they can be kind to you. That is not the case when you deal with the blind and dead. They seem to be in a world of their own; no heart or soul whatsoever.
The Cattle CrossingJello shakes as they walk,The two legged cattle talk.As they cross to enter their store,Groceries, electronics, clothing and shoes are on the floor.They are rude as they shop,Never failing to stop.The chatter is loud and said with spite,The English Sparrow is in flight.The bird looks down from above,Hungry for water and food,While the two-legged cattle moo.
7
Chapter 2New adventures with my only friend consisted of camping in nature and fire pits. The experienced companion taught me to look closer at the little things I normally did not see. The only negative things came in the form of the park rangers and the boy scouts who did not understand us. Our greatest treasure from these moments appeared out of nowhere.
DragonflyIn the clearing wrapped with dew,
And the evening sunlight,
The dragonflies swarmed up high,
There sat a hungry feline,
She waited still as a knotty pine,
The gun-powder colored cat leaped,
Her dinner was in her mouth,
A giant insect was her meal.
This spirit had been discarded,
To survive on her own,
A matter of convenience and conscious.
She did not belong in this place,
Her spirit was pure and of love.
She was lost but was there,
Through no choice of her own,
Her strong heart faced down the odds,
In the form of masked bandits who belonged in the wild.
Calm and motionless she stared back,
While laying down and they towering over her.
She calmly used her steady serious eyes,
To tell them she was not afraid,
Nor would she run away,
The midnight bandits are the ones who backed off,
Quietly into the darkness,
This cat became known as Dragonfly.
She beat the odds of being trapped by the park,
Because she was just too smart.
Our home consisted of a small dark one bedroom duplex and was a rental with rules. Daily trips to the park to feed the beautiful tortoise shell cat were made. We naively showed the park rangers where Dragonfly slept. Over thirty feet into the air she would go into the fork to nap. Meanwhile a website was created by my friend in an attempt to find this special spirit the perfect home, destiny had other plans for all three of us.
One day changed it all and our lives. My friend was alone to feed Dragonfly and witnessed a different posture. The cat met him at his car instead of waiting at our old campsite. She was in an agitated state meowing loudly and guiding her provider to the campsite where sat a trap positioned right under her sleeping tree. Another wild cat we called ?Baby? was in the trap. The protector immediately released the poor cat from the trap. Confused as to what to do my friend walked to his car as Dragonfly followed. A quick decision to save this special spirit was made. The car hatch was lifted and the cat was thrown in. The sounds of a loud car horn sent me to the door. I walked to the car to see Dragonfly sitting on my friend?s lap while rubbing his arms with her head. I quickly opened the door and got in. Dragonfly came to me purring as she laid on my lap. Plans were made and I left to return with a black bag. Our new friend was sneaked into our tiny dark cave with one window for light.
The DreamsWhile sleeping in my bed at night,
I felt a warm body on my right.
A soft head slept on my left arm,
The purrs were soft with no alarm.
The dreams were strange,
To the point of being deranged.
Dragonfly would leap,
Inside as a protector to keep.
Myself, safe from the dark,
As if I was the one in the park.
The tomb was too small for two people much less a cat too. Many times I witnessed Dragonfly sitting on our counter looking out with a sadness I felt. She would come to me begging to be released from our dark cave and I relented to her needs.
The decision to leave this miserable place took time and money. The landlords were old and greedy. When it rained, there were no showers to be taken because of the septic. A bucket with plastic bags had to be used to relieve ourselves.
During this time phone conversations with my daughter were made daily. I shared my troubles with her and thought she had compassion. My friend and I made many trips to her home with food. Her health was not good so we tried to be there to take her to the hospital when she needed us. She was an adult now so I could not take care of her hygiene anymore. Her hair stayed oily and her night gowns were dirty. The wheelchair cushion reeked of urine and feces. My offers of helping her with a bath were declined. I still did not understand my daughter?s mannerism. There was something wrong as if she was hiding the truth. My love for her was so deep that it hurt. I wanted to help her anyway I possibly could. It must be true, money is the root of all evil. The new furniture, electronics, computer, television and other things had to be purchased with money. My daughter did not possess the amount needed for these things yet I believed her explanations.
A few months of quiet was disrupted by a family of eight.
The AliensTrailer trash is what I am called,The box is still a home.The children are so young,Their language is not clean,Profanities are used .With each and every word.Where is the love?,Gone against the wind,When will this ever end?My peace came in the form of the land with trees and nature. My companion built feeders for the birds and squirrels. Our plastic poor man?s way of having a bird bath gave our birds water to drink and a way to douse themselves. The poor man?s pond held feeder goldfish grown to over six inches long. A stranger moved into the pond and became our friend.
HermanAlone she came,
Alone she left.
Alone she came again,
The amphibian was not lost,
She chose our home.
No rivets nor croaks,
Just a part of our world,
She responds to the touch,
The webbed feet curls,
As she stretches in the water.
Why, what and where,
From nowhere.
Dragonfly was pregnant when we finally found the means for freedom. The greedy landlords kept my security deposit but that was fine with me. At least we had a home for our cat and peace from the constant noise. Dragonfly came to me as she did in the park. I would put a cushion my lap so she could be loved. We would sit in the sunlight for many mornings before she gave birth.
The Free SpiritsHer eyes were full of fear,Her time was very near, The pain was suffered in silence,There came a spirit small and dark,Then a second spirit emerged,The third and fourth came later.Their eyes were closed,Helpless to the world,The warmth of a tongue,The strong love with a bond,Formed by only a mother,That was Dragonfly.All four babies were unique in their own way. Their personalities differed just like night and day. As they grew each one earned a name and their health became our concern. Plans to find a good home for each one ended with just one male named Powder Puff to be given away. Big Blue was the only male left and we wanted Dragonfly to have a protector.
Canine CatA muscle bound blue gray tom,Innocent, inquisitive yet young,A poor man?s ball is his toy,Thrown long and far, To be carried back,By no other than Big Blue.Clumsy with big feet,To watch Big Blue was a treat.His heart, pure as gold,Just as his spirit and soul.Dragonfly?s protector ended up needing her protection and guidance. As soon as they were strong enough their lessons on tree climbing began. ?Big Blue? had problems with the many lessons.
Small and DarkThe runt was born first,
Small but had a thirst,
For trouble which were dogs,
Poor El Gato was chewed up,
But healed on her own,
She should have sat on a throne,
Even though she was small, her spirit was strong
Her purr was fast like a motor boat.
Dragonfly stood in the background watching her children grow. The hunting skills consisted of baby rabbits, lizards and birds: all brought to us to witness. The woods and our peace gave her the freedom to teach and have a family. Many of the animals brought to us were rescued and released.
Top KnotShy with a hiss was TK,
Her face was covered with light,
All TK wanted was cream,
Knot Top has a soft heart.
The Blue Vest SlavesTheir walk is a limp,
As the chains rattle,
Their poor bones creak,
These slaves are meek.
The vests are covered with pins,
As if they have a shield,
Their orders and job are clear.
Others wait in line,
To replace the slave,
That gets too brave.
The slaves are from all walks,
Of life, a lot divorced,
Some married or widowed.
Stories are mirrored,
By the one need for money,
Most had debts, it wasn?t funny.
They had no choice,
At this slave place.
It seems like you are living on the edge when you do not have the security of a family or a husband. The comparison of domestic violence and the death of a spouse are considered the same. Counseling mimics them both with the same paperwork and sessions. I realized this after living with my friend who was not really my friend at all. The rent for one bedroom was not enough. Cleaning her house, driving her places, taking care of her worm beds and delivering them for her impeded my efforts for a job. After getting my first unsteady job the expectations from her was too much to bear. I had to move and that is what I did.
The Long WalkStars twinkled so bright,
The sweat was heavy,
I just had five miles to go,
The time was long,
Court was hard,
My ride was gone,
I was so tired,
The fight was mine,
No friend lets another down,
So I have no friends,
I just try to survive,
In this new jungle.
My new friend and companion seemed to have a problem with drinking. I was left out in the cold when it came to trust. I saw so many talents wasted with my new friend and alcohol. He loved the animals, and mother earth yet something had taken over called ?alcoholism.?
Chapter 3These are only my thoughts on healing and growing up to be an adult. The spirit was always there and the healing lies within that individual only. To truly love others you have to learn to love yourself. Learn to be proud of your talents as you grow and appreciate what has been endowed to you and you only.
Counseling is guidance as to how to heal but the healing is left up to you. Time and using that time wisely is the key. My eyes had to be opened to the small things in life to truly understand and to heal. Appreciation of nature, wildlife and earth mother were three things that helped me. Education of domestic violence and the hurt that is inflicted on everyone involved is another thing that is very important. My definition of domestic violence is simply power and control. This illness has been and will always be part of society yet it is not accepted anymore. There are laws and organizations that are there to help.
Almost thirty years of living under someone else?s domain I discovered the help and I am glad I got away from the cruel dictator. My spiritual circle has to be protected from intruders each and everyday.
The one person that shared my spirit for almost thirty years and was the only person I trusted from the abusive situation betrayed me. Now I am free from sharing my spirit with my only daughter. I have allowed others to cross my boundaries and I have learned from my mistakes. Each day I seem to discover something new, a new bloom on my flowers, a new bird, a tree. As a human being I still make mistakes and have to learn. That is part of the scheme of growing into a better person. I still trust the wrong people sometimes and allow the hurt. That is being a human being with the ordained weakness we all seem to suffer from if you are a true human being.
Listening to different music and the lyrics seem to help. The walks with my eyes open, my ears alert to the beautiful sound of the birds and squirrels gives me peace. Learning the names, sounds and habits of the birds became a peaceful hobby. My companion was a good teacher. We both talked to the animals and plants which was great. The butterflies and dragonflies did not go unnoticed. The world is a beautiful place to live yet sometimes the grass don?t grow, the wind don?t blow and the skies aren?t blue. Life can not be perfect each and every day.
Instead of criticizing my looks and talents, I was complimented. My confidence was back and my shyness was fading. I look others in the eyes instead of looking down as I talk. Sometimes the old habits reappear but not as bad. He understood why I took walks in the woods. We both were seeking peace together. He understood the reason I had no trust for any man.
The BathBirds all different,
Some tiny and some large,
Gather for a bath,
With a beauty to behold.
Splashing drops everywhere,
Wet feathers and beaks,
A treasure to seek,
Each day of the week.
The bees join in,
To drink as if nectar,
From the gods,
Or better yet the flower pods.
Paradise is bliss,
Fresh like a kiss.
Growing flowers and vegetables from seed is another hobby to enjoy. The flowers attract not only butterflies the bees come too. The water fountain provided pleasure for the birds and bees also because it had a gentle flow. Memories together with my companion are pleasant and peaceful.
The Kind AngelHer spirit spoke through her eyes,
The actions of an angel,
Never a curse left her mouth,
Never a bad drop nor nicotine,
Touched her sweet lips,
She was endowed with kindness,
No hate or spite,
Just love and care,
Her life was hard,
Hunger, cold and pain,
She was to bear,
No judgment of others ,
Came from her,
My mother, my mom.
Her heart was pure,
She could not see the hate,
Nor would she want to.
She was beyond and above it all,
Like an angel in flight,
My mother, my mom.
Candles