Source: My Smile
We live in a world that is increasingly desirous of instant gratification. We wake up in the morning and gulp down a bowl of instant oatmeal and drink a cup of instant orange juice, we flip on a 24 hour a day news channel to get instant news, at lunch time we drive up to the window and order a variety of instant lunches, and at dinner time we come home put a relatively instant dinner into the micro and settle back to turn our computer and instantly connect to the world wide web where we are free to put up our newest instant picture.
So used are we to our life of instant gratification, that it is becoming hard for us to realize that as much as we desire, there are still many areas of our lives where we must pull back and quietly wait. Where try as we might, and as…
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Hugs was inspired by my little dog Happy. When we first got him the idea of getting a hug was petrifying. He had no clue what a hug was. But within a few months Happy as Happy began to warm up to us and realize that he was in a safe and loving environment, he began to accept hugs.
Now this little bundle of fluff, who adores being the center of attention, will often become jealous when anyone hugs without him. And will jump onto the lap or try to jump into the arms to be part of the hug. It is from this dramatic change in Happy and his need to feel like he is loved that this poem was inspired.
My legacy is a poem of reflection. It ask the painful question, if something happened to me what would be the legacy of my life? What value would it have, what purpose would it have served? Would it be the kind of life that I could look back upon with pride or would I shudder from a mountain of regret? Would the people that I love remember me with tears or smile with relief that I am gone?
The question of one’s legacy is so easy to postpone, because the idea that one day death will come is not one that any of us like to deal with. Yet it struck me as I wrote this simple poem that now is the time to ask this critical question. Now while I have a chance to mend bridges, build stronger bonds with the one’s that I love, and totally change the…
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For years, in between my bouts of debilitating pain, I have been quietly writing. Creating folders of poetry, short stories, and even a book that sit quietly on my bookshelves waiting for the rare occasion when I would pull them off the shelf and read them. And that is where I expected them to stay all the days of my life gathering dust and growing yellow with age, because I had no idea how to share them with the world.
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Here is a poem that you might enjoy.
Well I never snuck a midnight snack, there are nights I wished that I could. This poem made me think of those long hungry nights and how there were times I could enjoy sneaking down the hall to grab a quick snack.
Time to eat, be discreet, don’t want to share, not a hair. Quick munch, not a crunch. Be aware, there’s someone there. Tip toe, back upstairs. Jump into bed, lay down your head. Pretend…
Source: Midnight Snacks