Author: Veronica Hallissey

  • How Long Before All Worlds Will Be Safe . . . ?

    Sometimes I run previous posts to acquaint my new readers with earlier work to show where it is I come from.  This is one of those times I need to remember for me.   A gift given and life was renewed and I am grateful.  There is always hope with a writer that words written will…

  • Say This I Can Do. . .and hold in your hand. . . .

      I want to show you the final results of the blue material I made on post previously.  This I completed and wanted you to see what you can do just for fun.  It is a creative endeavor and limited only by the boundaries you set.  And I hope they will be few. The next…

  • In A More Perfect World. . .

    There were just a few of us gathered when we were young and the talk was rising in enthusiasm about what a swath to be cut by the young on the political scene.  There was energy and ideas with a tail wind to push these things to fruition.  We would make a difference where our…

  • A Peace of Mind. . . .

    It is not the mystery of  life which stunts man and does not beguile  him to further thought.  It is the work involved. ***** It is not easy for Wendy to become Tinkerbell in one fell swoop.  Not without destroying Peter Pan in that fell swoop. ***** Statistics are meant to sell beer and not…

  • Do. . . and you will be shown how. . . .

    Do . . . .And you will be shown how. . . . When I was a girl Shirley Temple curls were popular and I sorely wished for a doll with real hair.  I wanted my doll to have curls.  My mother occasionally bought Honey Crush bread I think it was called and I coveted…

  • On Wings Of Hope. . . .

    Once Covered With Dreams. . . . Some may think there might be no choice on anyone’s part for any thing.   All things may be a matter of destiny.   Many think there are choices in all avenues.  But supposing there are no conscious options.  Supposing conscience already speaks on issues and there are no…

  • Show Me. . .the highest altar of the Mind. . . .

    It was only in rereading the journals for August of ’17 that I happened to come across these words.  Oftentimes I don’t get back to entries long after they are written.  And then I  am often humbled by what is given.  I am in the midst of this mental conference and when fatigue overcomes,  I…

  • To Feed My Spirit. . . .

    Lately I find myself not equal to the day’s events.   And considering how close the century mark hovers,  it is not unusual.  But I cannot remember with this body how I rose to the occasions when events played havoc with my heart.  So I take myself to the work table and create something from scratch. …

  • White Anglo Saxon Protestant. . . what it means to me. . . .

      White Anglo Saxon Protestant. . . what it has meant to me. . . The families had gathered for our marriage and we were getting ready to leave.  The favored aunt in my new family said in parting,  I hope you are good enough for him.  I gasped and stumbled and was silent.  There…

  • With Full Knowledge of the Song. . . .

    The Last Bird Sings. . . They said the pressures were such that would have put a pipe fitter under the foundation. . . I, naive, thought when I heard that she would not know she was between waxed sheets under a hot iron thought they talked of you. . . And I, obviously impaired…