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My reason. . . Because Of Love. . . . .
Explanation Caught in Part. . . In the beginning, in the place where I came from, there was a veil covering the foetus, the skin of man. I remember the place and the one who sent me here. He said it was because he loved me, and all those who would be part…
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Each One. . .Teach One. . .
. . . It always is a struggle between the correct thing and the right thing, no matter the subject or the action. The correct thing is not always comforting nor comfortable. And it generally is confrontational. Too much on our plate and we already want to hit delete. But whooooaaa!!! We…
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The Paris Incident. . . .
So now I write about the entries and how they are verified. When we moved from Michigan, we were aged with health problems. I tired quickly accounting for sometimes sparse writings. I now spend more time reading the journals and making notes amazed at what was accomplished. The puzzling habit still baffles. . .why was…
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All Who I Am . . . Our Coats Of Many Colors. . .
I write again of my coats of many colors. Because I love and care for those in my life and love life itself, I will repeat those of my posts I feel urgent about. Since I have memories and dreams of lives lived and have written of them, apologetically lacking times, I rightfully attest to…
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Beneath the Wings. . . . .
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just for you. . .you are worth it to me!. . . . . .
I guess one could call me legitimately broken as a human being this morning. I sit here with my headband made of 1 inch elastic stretched to the measurement of my head covered with a casing of fabric to look a bit fashionable. It helps a head that hurts with no side effects like pharmaceuticals.…
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Time’s Gleanings. . .
All knowledge is applicable to the self. If it is used to manipulate and maneuver Others it then becomes a game. ***** Insight implies sight to be applied inward. ***** Genuine laughter cleanses the toxic waste from swollen glands. ***** Only the secure one can afford to laugh at oneself. ***** To laugh at oneself…
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Throw A Kiss To The Stars. . .
Younger sisters should play by the rules and allow the elder to leave first. But my sister stayed as long as she was able and left us this week abruptly. This poem is personal in that love abounds. I whispered it in reading again with great love in our coming together as adults…
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Where The Bread Knows. . . the perfect kitchen. .
The Perfect Kitchen. . . cook’s heaven. . . (where the bread knows the feel of my hands. .) I have been in cook’s heaven and I need to get my fill of it. Son John and in law daughter Lori have given me a taste of that paradisal place every cook knows exists but…
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The Sages Kick Start. . .
I keep on hand stenographer tablets to jot down notes I think important in rereading the journal entries. I came across this poem thoughts. I do not know when I wrote it nor what entry prompted it. I may have been deeply focused in thought with someone. I remember the first line glimpse I…