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The games of ghosts and scares of the night Are never the ones I wanted to see. The howls of the wolves Or the cooing of the owls The stories in the dark With my sister holding the light Are haunted house visions that give me a fright.   The haunting music that signals a scare And the scary stories at bedtime were never my thing. My sister, however, was much braver than me Eagerly waiting for those shows on TV. She’d keep me up at all hours of the night, Enjoying my squirming, and always sudden flight.   Secretly though, I would happily give My big sister’s longing for moral support. She was always the happiest the scarier the tale. Yet with every review, I would find a way to bail. The haunted houses and stories are just not my thing But I love my big sister, so I stayed with my eyes closed – listening!   27/10/2021   Please share your thoughts, comments, emojis with me! There are no easy buttons but life sure works ...

  I am at peace with my past, though it still trips up my present now. The things that push me forward, disturb my inner joy. What lies beneath the surface, is hidden from all view The peace that I enquire on, daily gets to be renewed.   Peace does not run before me, nor do I leave it behind The way that life unfolds for me, is different and always kind. As I think about the hope I feel, and the future not far away. Peace knocks my heart’s door, and I let it in My peace is here to stay.   01/10/2021   Please share your thoughts, comments, emojis with me! There are no easy buttons but life sure works well with options! 😀😣🙋‍♀️🙂😎😄🤦‍♀️😍   Eugi’sCauserie weekly prompt is the inspiration for this poem. Copyright ©2021 Dwordslayer & Donna-Luisa Eversley. All Rights Reserved.

The memories connect the past and the present. Its an entire story, each life. Sometimes the paragraphs are years ongoing, and suddenly the last words are written. Time and life can seem long but there is a connector between the beginning and end. The connector joins each year seamlessly together, and therein lies our memories.   Let me Connect the years…   When I was six, my world seemed vast The swing was how I travelled fast. At ten and twelve I was ready to live my dreams Believing that my life would be all I wanted it to be. Then when sixteen came around, I left home in a rush My time here on earth was a card game holding a straight flush. Well soon enough came eighteen, with a baby on the way Life had many challenges I was preparing to slay. At twenty had two sons, and wishful dreams of ever after, Five years later those dreams were a disaster! The struggle was real, then I turned twenty-eight, My daughter was brewing, a beautiful baby on ...

  I love flowers. They are such a frivolous loving gesture with no practical thought of what could be done with the money; and the few times I have received them it has been one of the best feelings being on the receiving end. Yes, flowers can get me going -smile- and I remember gazing at bouquets delivered to the ladies at work with envy, happiness and sadness. Well, I did get some flowers, and you can read about it below-  Give me flowers!   “Flowers look nice They looked great on the table next to my own Wished there was a bunch to take home They did not belong to me                                                                                    Yet I enjoyed them immensely One single bouquet for me to gaze upon Given by my colleagues, with ...

  The grassy bed up on the hill. Was a place to escape For my daily thrill. To go outside away from it all Was my secret place With everyone around. The space alone was under a tree, With only the lizards to bother me. You can see the grotto, Where the priests would pray. It was a sanctuary, A place I wanted to stay. You can call it a meadow, because of the ground It’s what comes to mind if meadows are to be found. Yet still if I consider My Scottish retreat many years ago, I walked through some meadows, And never wanted to go home. The air was very different, from my tropical breeze, The birds and the sky seemed to envelope me. Every moment I was able to run wild and free, Was a moment I rejoiced for the blessing from Thee. Blessed beyond measure, to discover another secret place, Made for me by Jesus,  a meadow of grace.   8/06/2021 Inspired by a prompt from Eugi’s Causerie . Thank you for stopping by. Please shar...

  Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Maksym Kaharlyt Another Dance   Move onto the floor Gaze around in this place Find the one who connects with you As you seek to find your space. Move your eyes to the left With a smile and a glance Sway gently to the sounds, Its your music, so just dance.   Move your feet with a lift Take your eyes away from him Just focus on the sound As you quickly move around. Its your night, your time to shine Your eyes revert to seek him out Its okay to dance for him to see Give him a dance for memory.   Dance, dance It’s just another night to put on a show Fast or slow no one else will know, Don’t give into the eyes That are waiting patiently To return to the arms that forever will be A reminder of the night when they first met Dance my darling, life has no regrets.   25/04/2021   Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt has guided my thoughts, inspiring a passionate outpouring as above....

  Dream Catcher and the Prince Standing above I look at my prince fast asleep. He’s one of my favorites His dreams are memories. The moments he misses With mist filled eyes. A million little kisses From his mom when alive. Dreamcatcher, I am Holder of dreams Happiness and danger And other things that are unseen. I stretch my hand to guide The light towards my charge It’s a wonder he’s even sleeping His happiness is a mirage. Subconsciously my prince knows Sun comes out after rain Hidden deep in his heart He dreams of his mother again. Digging deep into his sleep And my Dreamcatcher’s nest I’m searching for memories To help him find rest. The Dreamcatchers goal Is to help happiness unfold Taking him to God For his mother to hold. His memories feel sadly real And this night will require a disguise I’m hoping his memory mother will visit To hold him till it’s time to arise. I send my silver net Filled with his tears and dreams She whispers to him Telling wonderful stories. As I look a...

  Photo Credits:unsplash.com/Sai De Silva Imagine Me   My mother always had a playful daredevil streak She was a teacher, and actress, a creator, an inventor A survivor.   My mother loved fashion and dressing She had style and class, and loved wigs and Marilyn Monroe The stars in the sky and on the screen, inspired her.   Today my mother is older and wants to hold onto her independence ‘Once a man twice a child’ is the saying I hear, with tears understanding My mother is growing older, and so am I.   Imagine me, as I used to be in the past with my mother Indeed, I was as cheeky and brave and bold just as she was at times As I really see my mom now, imagine us – older now.   Imagine that time just keeps going and its speeding up fast And I just want some more time to do more, be different, be better for her. We are in this together, me and her, her and me – we.   Imagine that there were words spoken and unspok...

Marriage is treated as a concept from the past. Its become a watered down version to commitment to many with divorce preparations as part of the wedding plan. My son is getting married and I am damn proud. I'm as pleased as punch that he has 'stepped up' and decided to make that forever after commitment. I'm even more pleased that he is deeply in love with his wife to be and ready to make it work forever after. At this point, I'm taking as much kudos and 'back-slapping' for raising my son right. Hell yes! He is a great son and an even better man. He has developed a strong back bone and excellent work ethic when it comes to taking care of his family. He is humble and sincere in his dedication to us all, and God sure blessed me when I decided to have him. I have no regrets, and would have him the same way, in the same circumstances, because he is who he is because of all we have been through. My heart is a bit sad though because now someone else w...

A Christmas Past I can remember how wonderful the Christmases of my past were, and the warmth and love for the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He was the reason for the season. His birth was a joyous time and a very happy event. We would sing carols, hymns and songs that were uplifting and inspired hope. There was significance in the rainbow of colors which filled every hall and every celebration party. There were streamers and banners, even balloons, professing "Merry Christmas", "Unto Us a Savior is born", and many other words which kept us focused on the reason for the season. I'm thinking out loud because my heart is disturbed. When did our churches become so sophisticated that they removed the color and the reason for the season? When did the celebration turn into a somber event of black and white or muted colors, all to do with color scheme and not the happiness of this time of the year? When did the Christmas tree become obsolete, and t...

A gentle reminder The challenges of the day should be embraced. This is how we get to test ourselves and be prepared for the next level in our lives. Maybe, there is no food for today, no money for today, and dire straits aka tough times are looming near. Your back is up against the wall, and you are flustered. At that moment stand up, and walk away from that place where you are. Take a few steps, and look behind. Now you can walk forward. Where you were is not where you have to be. You just made a choice. It may seem like a small step, but it was a big move. When we were growing up there were days there was no food, buts somehow my mother could prepare a meal with rice and margarine, and it tasted like fine cuisine. There were days when we lived on hope and a prayer. We lived, we grew, we overcame our challenges. Yes, my mother was employed as a teacher, but there are many who are employed living in a state of poverty. There is a cost to living and a cost to...

A small thought can lead to the profound… This morning  while sharing some thoughts on my childhood with two of my children, I looked at myself in the mirror. I have a pair of glasses which I consider ‘googlers’. These spectacles are not my favorite, but they have the most features. I could not find my sunshades and resorted to their photo-grade feature of darkening with the sun. Thus began this whimsical conversation as I asked, “How did Google decide on the name google,  I wonder if they were thinking of googlers?” My son and daughter looked at me mystified and wary of how I would respond to this rhetorical question? I have this strange habit when I’m thinking to ask and answer questions all at once. Then of course a historical moment of reminiscing, brought forth the following; “When I was at school we called some spectacles ‘googlers’. Googlers were the type of frames and lenses which brill...

Celebrating long life I have had the privilege  in my life to know some remarkable women. A few are over 70 years and they have had a significant impact on those they meet including me.Long life is indeed a blessing many do not get an opportunity to live for. Each day is a new blessing, when the miracle of life is present. There are many positive teachings we can learn from those who live long lives. In the past we learnt from our elders, those with experiences to share and advice to pass o n. There are many  people sharing and giving advice on a life not yet lived. Who do we listen to when we turn on our radios , the internet or television? What is the substance of the experiences shared? Are they mental fantasies or a legacy of a life lived through and through? There are some extolling  the virtues of bigotry, racism, and inequality having lived a life gaining wealth on the backs of those they can oppress. Then there are those who live their lives exclaimin...

A ritual begins There are some things in life which leave a lasting impression. I love coffee!  Some rituals we learn  as we grow, coffee has been with me for as long as I can remember. As a toddler I recall my grandfathers on both sides of the family, sharing coffee with us when we visited for vacations. On my dad’s side my grandpa would give us these little miniature china cups (a few years ago I realized they were espresso cups) early every morning after we said our morning prayer! He brewed coffee in a peculator and it had the perfect mix of cream and sugar. We had to drink it quickly, and it was hot, but what a way to start your day! Grandpa would then send us back to our rooms to get ready for the day, while he prepared breakfast with my grandmother, a formal affair at their home. My grandfather  on my mother’s side of the family is of Amerindian descent linked to the Caribs, the indigenous people of the ‘new world’ discovered by Christopher Columbus. Ear...

Creating Memories Memories... Today I listened to my eldest son share his experiences working with me during some very trying times. He shared on the way we achieved goals despite the odds. His enthusiasm took me back to memories which would be difficult, if not impossible to create, had we not persevered through our challenges. Being brave does not happen unless a situation arises when bravery is needed. As I listened to him sharing his memories, I recalled my own. It was indeed an inspirational moment, filled with lessons to remember.  Each day marks an opportunity for memories to be created with those closest to us. When they are gone, our memories will be the anchor which holds them near. Memories can hide, but like those we love are there when we need them... Just thinking out loud. Be blessed and encouraged. DWordslayer  © Donna-Luisa Eversley and D-WORDSLAYER, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and writ...