Sitting quietly, sipping a cappuccino, Johnny Cash’s One Piece at a Time playing in the background
I’m gazing out the window, looking for a sign of what to write.
Inspire me! I yell under my breath.
Where is that spark I’m needing to ignite this fire?
It’s there, I know it, hiding quietly behind its cloak of secrecy, toying with my psyche
The days go by in a blur, one melding into the next
How did I get here?
How did I come this far?
Snap out of it! The headlights scream back at me, as they flicker in the dreary light , zooming past one by one
Then a lull and an eerie bleakness permiates the atmosphere
Green
Yellow
Red
Flashes in the distance, as we follow with intent.
The rush of wind whipping across wheels, sloshing through the rain, spraying with delight across the pavement
Where are we going?
How long till we get there?
Time keeps rushing, faster, faster, faster
Take a moment and surrender
Before we know it time has passed us by, and we’ll soon ask again…
How did we get here?
Life is not worth living, if we are living it in a blur.
Let it all sink in
Bask in the delight that surrounds us daily.
Embrace the little sparks that appear along the way, and turn them into that blazing inferno!
Another weekend has come and gone, and here we are saying hello to Monday all over again. What a weekend it was.
A time honored tradition in my family is to go to the cemetery to visit my grandparents the first good weather day we can after Thanksgiving so we can put down the blanket. The blanket, is for us, a wreath that we decorate and place at the grave site. Some florists sell grave blankets, but we have always liked the idea of decorating one ourselves. It makes it more personal.
I’ve been going with my mom since I was a little girl. We wait till after Thanksgiving because the cemetery allows us to place grave blankets down only after that date. We hope that it doesn’t snow before we are allowed to get there. The saying in our family is…”The blanket is down, now it can snow, because we know they have a blanket to keep them warm in the cold winter”
As a little girl my cousin and I would always find change at the headstone. We were always told they were “Pennies from Heaven that Grandpa would send down for us to find because he was seeing his little girls” I never met my grandfather, he passed away in 1966. With the passing of time and growing up, we realized that the “pennies from heaven” really were from our moms. But funny enough the older I got, and still to this day, I sometimes find pennies or loose change around their headstone as well as little rocks that I often take as a little memento.
So this weekend when we made our way to the cemetery , with my car filled with the smell of pine, which I normally hate except for when I have the blanket in my car, mom and I talked about Christmas’s past.
Upon entering the National Cemetery, finding my way as if I was driving home, I thought to myself “I wonder if that American Flag was still wedged between the tree and headstone of the Vietnam Veteran” Not remembering his name but remembering what I had seen on my last trip in September.
We parked the car and made our way to their spot, following the crooked tree all the way there. Our blanket this year was not what we had really wanted, but it was special and it was put together with love. Some little mementos and decorations to bring the spirit of Christmas to them and keep them warm in the cold winter to come.
After saying our prayers and a quick look for pennies or rocks (none to be found this year but I did find some in September) we made our way back to the car. I notices while walking the somber row of stones, a ribbon of red highlighted by the glaring sun.
The flag was still there. Wedged between the headstone and hearty tree trunk. “How did it get there? How long has it been there? Why did someone put it there?” Mom wondered what I was doing so I filled her in as I walked off the path to the row beyond me. The ground was damp from the rain over the last few days, and some renovations were taking place nearby as well. I treaded lightly as usual, always feeling I’m disrupting as I walk over gravesites.
I took a photo, because I felt I needed to tell this mans story. Upon researching, I am only able to find information about this site through the Military Grave Search, and also another Robert E, Schantz that is on the Missing Marines site but has a different date of birth. Still wanting to know more about the man who has a flag wedged at his gravesite, which looks to be there for quite some time, I feel I need to do more. Exactly what at this point I’m not sure. But for now I will leave you with this loving photo tribute to Mr. Robert Edwin Schantz. May he, and all the souls lost, rest in peace.
Waiting patiently, in the pale moon light
for the moment of his return.
Hair slightly damp, curly, and wispy,
the crisp cool linens, gently draped over her body.
Echos of the footsteps from the floor below,
beat steadily to their own drum.
A subtle whoosh of the ceiling fan joins in,
delicately creating a symphony unbeknownst to them.
Minutes pass, yet feeling like hours,
when the sound of his footsteps suddenly perk your ear.
Eyes peek open to catch a glimpse of his shadow on the bedroom floor
as the familiar smell of his aftershave swirls in the room.
Softly the sheets glide across your body
to make room for his entrance.
His caressing touch greets you as he joins by your side.
self doubt rears her ugly head
when the butterflies turn to pangs of fear
the inner turmoil takes the lead
heat rising from deep within the belly
instead of the warmth of happiness
embers burning fierce with worry
what if it’s all a dream?
what if it’s going to fade?
what if it’s too good to be true?
the what if’s are the demise of all good things
the tone of voice
the moments of silence creeping in
the simple inquisitive questions filled with fear for your answers
you know better than to let it get the best of you
yet you still entertain the ideas
your imagination runs wild, when it should be tamed
you must soothe your weary soul
over things you have no control
Autoschediastic by nature
with an inner Beauty flowing forth,
only by balancing her Chakras
will her Dreams become reality
A strong Epithymy for the deepest wants and needs,
this Fit Fat Fabulous Female
who is strictly Gluten Free
finds pleasure and Happiness in the most peculiar things
Her Intuition and Instincts must be set free
As she’s Jammin along to this thing called life
She never lets the Keraunophobia or other fears
stand in the way of pure Limerance
With a strong will and Motivation
instilled years before from her Nonna
she will forever Open her house and heart
to those wandering souls of the world
A Pluviophile at heart
and a self-proclaimed Quirky girl
forever with Romance on her mind,
Self confidence and Typhlobasia will remain her work of art
Unbroken by the trials of life
but suffering a case of Vernalagnia
and sometimes, Writers block
she often has needs for an Xscape
With no need for men
who are Yemeles with their kisses
This Zaftig girl
ROCKS!
The final post for the April 2015 A to Z challenge is brought to you by the letter Z.
ZAFTIG~ A woman possessing a voluptuous figure, curvaceous, plump, 1930s: Yiddish, from German saftig ‘juicy.’
Shattered pieces strewn about
Displayed ever so gracefully
Tiny cracks in the surface
Cleverly disguised from the naked eye
Yet capable of holding so much
Crevices, like the curves on my body
Piercing light cascading in
Overflowing with fears and doubts
Filling beyond the brim
Kindness, love, hopes, and dreams
All dashed in a fleeting moment
It came as a crushing blow
How was I to know
You would be yemeles
With your kiss
In that moment anger swelled
But with time it’s been quelled
There’s much peace in letting go
Today’s A to Z challenge is brought to you by the letter Y. Y for ~
Yemeles
Adj. – An Old English and Middle English word meaning “careless, heedless, negligent” – Pronounced as “yeem-lis,”
Underneath his seemingly
Unmenacing exterior
Unbeknownst to her
Ultimately lied
Unfathomable lies
Unable to comprehend
Until the bitter end
Unravelling his cleverly disguised
Unctuous persona
Unfathomable details
Unfolded before her
Unwavering eyes
Unimaginably she remained
Undeniably
Unbroken
A wild and vivid imagination
is wonderful to have
Except in the wee hours of the morn
when it’s traveling back to distant lands
Preoccupied with what ifs
and what could have been’s
The constant spinning
Of the same old tune
Trying to block things out
with pleasant thoughts
Yet ending up
exactly where you began
It’s funny how things turn out
when you allow yourself to come second
A heart capable of endless love
why must it repeatedly break
The tearing down of walls
so frail and thin
Testing and pushing
to its breaking point
Maybe only within the final crack
can it begin to heal
photo credit: Cover via photopin (license)
She often found herself wondering
why he was so facinated
by typhlobasia.
Until one day caressing her face
ever so delicately with
the palms of his hands,
cradling her cheeks like
a newborn infant
not wanting to damage her
he leans in ever so gently
and kisses her upon the lips
with a longing and desire
she felt to her toes.
As he pulled back to take in her beauty
he simply exclaimed…
I close my eyes when I kiss you
so I can see and feel your essence
mingling with mine.
photo credit: Pixfav.com Image (163) via photopin (license)
Today’s A to Z Challenge is brought to you by the letter T.
T for ~ Typhlobasia -Kissing with the eyes closed .
Random Musings And Wanderlust 
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