FATHERS AND DAUGHTERS PIECES OF THE PUZZLE What type of man was your father when you were growing up? According to therapeutic folklore, every choice we make as women, every man we choose to love, stems from our relationship with our father. Whoa boy, if that’s true, then I’m in trouble! How about you? To […]

via Happy Father’s Day Dad, Where Ever You Are — Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

Happy Father’s Day Dad, Where Ever You Are — Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

The Princess

The Princess was sitting in her castle and she swore no man would she let woo.

She turned them all away as she said, no, not you, not you, not you, to myself I will be true.

She danced with her butterflies, she twirled in her flower gardens like when she was two.

She whispered to her flowers, confessing, I love you and you and you.

So happy was this woman that she vowed never to wed and then a Knight in dazzling armor appeared at the castle gates, the sun shining on his head.

She was blinded by his beauty, aura like spun gold and this one Knight she invited to her bed, visions of together growing old.

Prince Charming was his name and wow, that man tickled her fancy with his soft kiss and even if he just walked by, she would stumble and a step she would miss.

Well, we all know about no such thing as happy endings and soon the Princess gave up her other loves, like her writing.

She was busy twisting and turning and bending to keep the Prince happy, looking in her mirror-mirror and often sitting there silently for hours.

The Prince started kissing her less and less often and his voice for her…he no longer softened.

Many nights she cried herself to sleep, under so many full moons…she would weep and weep and weep.

Many moons later, she came to her senses, had the guards toss the Prince out and around her old gardens she built stronger fences.

This is a true story and you know it’s true, because I was the Princess and you, you were the Knight I gave my heart too.

Silly Princess, Stupid Boy, hard lessons, me and you.

Posted in Women Who Think to Much

Other’s Eyes

Butterflies flit around my face

morning does not stay

minutes turns to hours

as I duel with weeds and play.

I go out front and gasp

stock-still, in awe I stand

loving flowers of every hue

petals are caressed with hand.

Sun sets, splashing orange

and yellow across the sky

stunning, breathtaking

fiery colors fast-slipping by.

“Dear God, is this all just for me?”

“Child of nature, thumbs of green

butterfly whisperer, home garden queen,

send your pictures to other’s eyes

and they will bless all who see.

by Jeanne Marie

Posted in Women Who Think to Much

No Longer The Girl…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

princess2
I am no longer the girl you first touched, held, caressed and loved.
I am much older now. I know too much to play Cinderella to your Prince Charming, although I still love you.
I am no longer a girl at all.
The girl grew weary of childish games and a woman stands in her place.
I can’t play Tinkerbell to your Peter Pan, not anymore.
I am woman who knows what she wants most of the time and I definitely know what I don’t want, all of the time.
I have grown-up. Changed.
In some ways for the better and I’ll admit this, in some ways maybe not so better.
As I fight to make my own choices and live my life inside the confines of this codependent relationship, I am often frustrated and angry.
Sometimes, I feel as if I’m walking on floors of Jello surrounded by walls of melting wax.
The rules change as…

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Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Full Moon Rises

Soul wanders
through the darkness
searching for your light.
It floats blind and lost
searching behind
the  stars each night.
Heat remembered
frustrates and
fuels the fire.
Full moon rises
sparking rebellion,
tears and desire.
I want! I want!
soul screams out
to the empty night.
Its over. It’s over.
Must be accepted
by each daylight.