D-WORDSLAYER

                                      Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Joel Muniz Watch Me As I Walk Watch me as I walk My hips may shake a bit These legs they still look strong No heels on to give them a lift My shoulders don't slouch And my waist is a wee bit round But I'm sure you will not notice As I strut and sing my song. I've got the silver streaks My hair has lived through many trips A real natural beauty With some personality From my lips. Watch me as I walk, Confident glow of womanhood at its peak A lifetime journey ,and stories of which I speak My aging has never been in vain A point my look defines I've got the music in my brain Can dance, sing, and you will gaze I can still hold my own on the town Older and wiser, Yes, I have been around! Watch me as I walk See the mystery I’ve been living my life more than breathing I know all the pebbles on the street. You call me grandmother, wife, ...

Distressed panties? Can the demand for distressed garments push you to the ultimate intimate? Distressed panties will not be something I will purchase even though I’ve got a few and they are too comfortable to let go. I had this crazy thought as I hung my undergarments on my outdoor line to get some sun while drying.  Imagine walking into a store and finding tired looking panties, shreaded, and with holes. Hmm that would get folks talking. It could even get those folks inclined to be ‘trendsetters’ buying a tired beatten flimsy panty for maybe double what one would pay for the regular stuff. The mind of the consumer can be confusing at times, thus I’m trying to figure out what would make someone get insane with intimates! Teeny Tweens. I can see this group of young-uns checking out a Kardashian blog or Taylor Swift update to see if they are wearing distressed briefs. If ‘reality and other famous stars’ are into a trainwreck piece of cloth these impressionable babes wil...

Question To Self... Do I have the skills, authority, capability, autonomy, motivation to take charge of my life? That is one of my questions to self, as I grow older. I am accountable to the 'me' I want to be, and have been throughout my life. If I want to feel empowered to succeed, follow my dreams and gain respect for accomplishments, walking the 'thought' matters. I had a discussion of sorts with my daughter, who declared at almost twenty everything she felt entitled to, with defiance and my thoughts went to 'empowerment.' Being empowered to make decisions and operate with some form of authority and autonomy has certainly been a topic of discussion for us women. Empowering our girls from an early age requires giving them the tools to move forward, and ensuring they have guidance and support systems to help them along the way. As I think about my daughter and the corporate and social world she has entered, I am reminded of my own 'rite...

Prelude… I was eighteen when I had my first son. I did not know what it felt like to love someone unconditionally until I met him as he grew in my womb. He was born on November, 22nd 1987, the most beautiful baby boy the earth had ever seen.    I had a toothache and it was after ten at night. There were no pharmacies open in those days, so my boyfriend decided to take us to his family home for medication. The house was quiet when we arrived, and it was after 12am. I went immediately to the bathroom for medication leaving my son and his dad on the sofa, their backs were facing the sliding doors which I heard close, as I hurried to get some toothx lotion. As I made my way after a few minutes to the front, I saw someone with a kerchief covering half of a face, and movement outside the door. Before I could respond, thinking maybe his brother was playing a joke, three men stormed in. The look on my face caused by boyfriend to hold onto our son and all the...

A Child's Hair... The ideas for a writer can come from anything. Social issues are always inspirational for me. While some topics can be sensational and controversial, the need to express an opinion can unearth suppressed emotional baggage. Growing up I had a thick mane of long hair. It grew and grew and never seemed to stop. Living in the Caribbean meant it was quite hot and uncomfortable many times when my hair was open. The texture of my hair was soft , wavy and wild. The other children would laugh at me when they tried to plait it because there were no 'ends', and thus would not stay fixed without a rubber-band. It unraveled on its own, thus I was in the minority of girls at school with challenges in braided styles. The News... As I read an article about a school in the Bahamas suspending a girl from school because her hair was not chemically 'relaxed' to appear straight and tame, the child in me appeared. This can be socially controversial, as confor...