survivor – Page 10 – Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

You’re Invited!

You’re invited to the Cupcake Tea Party of the Season!

Find your safe place…and go there in your mind when things are rough…

Unconquered Guilt by Jodie Lynne (1994)

UNCONQUERED GUILT
She wearily stumbles on past
Blinded as survival fogs her path.
Her broken soul aching to reach
Beyond this endless haze,
Desperate to free
What she can no longer see.
Burning with pain
Her aimless arms reaching,
Pulling together strength enough
For one last try.
Fear takes over, for at last
She has felt beyond her gaze,
Fallen into a piece of past.
Even as a small hand clings to her own
Ever so quickly fear becomes shame
As the soft little hand slips from her hold,
Letting smoke turn to roaring flame, and
Still, the shadowed room remains so cold.
As her worn body falls
With unexpected relief
She gives in to the memory
Lies down with the unconquered grief.
One last tear streaks her face
As a terrible blackness drags
Her broken soul to another time,
Another place. A woman-child,
An abusive man, three years dead
Who lives on in nightmares,
That dance through their heads
A little boy, his crying face,
Another time, another place.
Jodie Lynne, 1994

Middle Child (Jodie Lynne)

Middle child, where do you fit in?
You fought for my attention
but did you ever win?
You surely have it now
although painfully gained.
You capture me with crisis
then, I shake loose again.
Middle child, I know you well,
you speak to me of your dreams
your fears and your babies lost.
People judge you harshly
but once you lived beneath
my heartbeat…
so, together we pay the cost.
I can’t catch you when you fall
but I’ll bandage up your knees
just like when you were five
and asphalt tore through your jeans.
“Don’t run,” I’d holler out the door
as off to play you’d tear.
You never heeded my warnings
took on the world without a fear.
Twenty-two this month and still…
my warnings fly into the wind
blowing every which way
following you aimlessly around.
Perhaps you’d stop to listen
if you knew that my heart bleeds
each time your knees hit the ground.
My daughter, my middle child
I loved you when you didn’t know
when my hands were full with others
or when my feelings didn’t show.
We’ve had our ups and downs
but I’ll never let you go.
Middle child, where do you fit in?
My quintessence has a
special niche for you
tucked beneath my ribs
right where you’ve always been.
by Jeanne Marie, 1997

You Are Amazing

You Are Amazing.

The Flower Whisperer, Michelle Marie at http://michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com/

The Flower Whisperer, Michelle Marie at http://michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com/.

The Flower Whisperer, Michelle Marie at http://michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com/

My flowers have been waiting all their lives for the Flower Whisperer, Michelle Marie. Since she came into their lives, they practically burst from my camera each morning, eager to get into her hands.
My flowers talk to her and she, in turn, creates amazing, magical art work from their messages. I am in tune with butterflies and animals but as much as I love my flowers, they have rarely spoken to me. I visit her site for a minute and end up staying for hours.
Michelle Marie is a trained graphic artist but what she creates could never be learned. Her magic comes from her heart, her fingertips are but a tool. Her posts are unforgettable. These are just a few of the stunning creations she has made me. Visit more of her incredible posts at: http://michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com/