A Man And A Maiden On A Warm Summer Day

Here I go again, skirting the monotonous weekend cleaning schedule so I can do what I'd rather do; read or write about something that interests me. The motorcycle boot scuff marks on the floor can wait a few more hours so I can stroke this mental viand.

People that know me best understand my sentimental nature. I like to swoon and reminisce and exaggerate reality just because words mixed with a little varied imagination on paper allows me the simple pleasure.

Alas, this is the tale of A Maiden And A Man On A Warm Summer Day….

A man and a maiden separated ways, one chose the flat Eastern path, the other traversed the hilly Western maze. The morning dew called them both to ensue upon the set fate of their days.

They parted with a sweet loving peck and thought of each other no more as the the daily marks were set. They toiled upon what must ensue to keep their heavenly abode well kept.

At mid day break the maiden did fall upon pathway travails. She pondered the muddle she found herself in and beckoned for her hero to prevail. Although capable of fixing her plight; a man was
what was needed for this particular avail.

And THEN…

She saw him flying from the East on his valiant steed; loud and thunderous and moving at blistering speed. He saw her waiting upon the Western hill ready for him to accomplish his heroic deed. Her heart melted in the sweltering sun knowing she would be saved; yes indeed!

She watched as he worked, beads of sweat on his brow, securing and fastening her plight into oblivion's domain. Gratitude arose from the depths of her being, a euphoric kiss was reward to her swain. Travelers along the Western maze beheld the true love of a maiden and a man on that warm Summer day.

'The Man'
Photo by: The Maiden 'AKA' Chandra Brown

The story of 'A Man And A Maiden' certainly beats reality; I was stranded because of a flat -tire and had to pull my hardworking husband away from his job to come fix a tire on his lunch break. BORING! Ha ha! 

Thanks honey, you were my hero! XO

The Worn Soapbox

My soapbox is firmly planted, I put my right foot on the worn surface. I stop, my knee bent and see a ragged hole or two on the surface, I look at it with pride before my left foot follows and I plant my body firmly in the middle. I scan the view before me as my head turns from right to left. My eyes encompass a foggy, barren field but my mouth opens anyway.

Photo by: Gracey

For those sparse few that read my blog, you understand I use it for many purposes. I often wield words against unjust causes and harshly scrutinize the world yet on the other hand will gush sentiment over a bee on a flower. I write what life teaches me. This post is dedicated to the few who see truth, don't try to change it to fit their world, embrace it, let it change them and go on to valiantly write and/or stand on the soapbox and open their mouths to speak what they have learned.

The Possession


My soapbox is the possession I carry on my narrow walk. Sometimes I sit on it, other times I kick it around. I pick it up every now and then and sling it over my shoulder, I let it dangle down my back and move along the narrow path waiting for the time when the cumbersome square will once again lift off my shoulder to be set on a level plane and bare the weight I carry.

The Path

The longer I try to walk the narrow road the more sensitive the rocky path seems to feel beneath my feet. The prick of the jagged rock is not a feeling you shrink from but one you welcome because you know it is there to teach you to be aware; to pay strict attention to lest you should misstep and fall.

Photo by: imageafter

The Perception

Subtle whispers echo across the wide road only to hit your ear drums as loud roars. So you shout back in order to be heard through all the background noise packaged in so many forms categorizing them would be a useless task. You try to be succinct in your call so the words will travel across the chasm with full force and hopes that those who are faced in the right direction will be able to transmit the faint noise.

Photo by: Aunt Owwee

The Reason

JESUS
He is the light to my path, He keeps my way straight. He teaches, reveals and guides me along the way and balances me in the process. (Psalms 23:3, 25:4 Proverbs 3:6, 4:11)

To walk on the narrow path is to take up your cross and follow Him. Sometimes He requires you push forward with nothing but the clothes on your back, sometimes to give your last possession to another you meet along the way, other times you will rest when you want to run forward. Sometimes He will hide and you will have to seek. Along the way you learn to know His voice but it gets even better with His promise to one day see His face.

I plan to keep following him along the path with my worn soapbox in tow.

Cookies Corpulent Cravings

Cookie the Character in our Story when she's not so Corpulent

Alex Guest Posts in conjunction with her Mother:
A story for your bedtime enjoyment!

Note: Alex is learning the techniques used in story writing in her grade this year, one of them is using descriptive words to describe the character and what is going on in the scene, hence, our hopefully entertaining story....Read and tell us what you think..

There lived a gerbil who loved to eat. Her name suited her well for her master called her Cookie. Cookie nibbled on grains and seeds, timothy hay, fruits, nuts, and sometimes for a healthy treat, spinach. One fine day when the sun was shining and the breeze rustled the treetops  a new discovery awaited the active gerbil. Her master placed a new item in her food bowl; it was a sight to see. It layed in the food bowl on its side as a sunbeam glistened through the window onto its surface. Cookie wondered, "What could this delight be?" She carefully tiptoed over to the oval shaped comestible and touched it ever so slightly with her front paw. She stared and glared intently at the colorful markings and sniffed ever so deeply with her nose close to touching the shell. Then, she lifted the treasure from its spot and placed her front tooth on the hard surface giving a little pressure on the shell causing it to crack open like an egg freshly opened by a pecking chick on Easter Sunday. For a split second Cookie felt a rush of panic at the thought she destroyed the treasure and as she began to let the feel of sorrow enter her heart she saw a tiny, smooth pearl like core inside the shell. With great excitement her little paw tore off the shell like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning revealing the glorious, most scrumptious, delightful seed in all the rodent kingdom; the sunflower seed.

As Cookies taste buds exploded with the flavor too good to compare to chocolate, her eyes were involuntarily scanning the food bowl for another packaged treasure. Her impulsive desire caused her to dive headfirst into her bowl in search for more. She resurfaced with little bird seeds stuck on her cheeks looking at her master with questioning eyes just as her master's hand entered the cage with bountiful supply of more tantalizing treats to wet her appetite. She greedily tore into the new supply like a kid picking M&M's from the mountain trail mix bag. She ravenously stuffed her mouth as if she were kin to a pig. In her gluttonous delectation, her slender body began to grow as she ate and consumed and devoured to overflowing capacity; her body mirrored the action with rapid reaction. The once slender gerbil now resembled Henry the VIII, King of various voracious appetites. Her cravings called out for more as she sat idly in the corner of her cage filling in her corpulent crevices.

What was needed was an intervention!

Her master picked her up from her comfy corner and examined her in jaw-dropping awe wondering how a gerbil could expand her size in such little time. Her master shook her finger in a motherly fashion at Cookie as the inevitable words rolled out of her mouth, "Cookie, you're going on a diet."

The End

Collaborated together with: Cookie, Alex and Chandra