Author: Veronica Hallissey

  • Industry And Creativity

      Industry and Creativity  Our world needs our arms and legs and talents.  Heaven needs our industry to keep our planet afloat.  We are industrious and we are also creative.   And to be both is what life is all about.  We construct our lives by what is imaged and we create in physical space what…

  • If We Sing To The Children

      If We Sing To The Children I wear these memories as a cloak to ward off the chill. Emotions forgotten, but like new now ripping along my arms, settling bumps in straight rows to my heart. Kindred hearts, matching my own heartbeat, with eyes like mine and reflecting our souls. Music in voices saying,…

  • Bless The Experience

      This particular post has been a favorite one of many people.  It is to me because of various reasons and I need to remind my self  that blessing an experience,  especially ones that are painful to remember,  is as necessary for my well being as giving silent thank yous for the many good experiences.  …

  • To Research Oneself

    The Teacher Speaks. . . . .For the one who searches the Heavens  for his answers and then hopes to find the answers in his actions, his activities and in the midst of his affiliations,  he might find them there if he chooses so.  But chances are the answers he seeks will be in his…

  • The Day Is Good Bread

    Resentments hang heavy on the heart. Heaven teaches by the only weapon they have.   That is Conscience. Beware the one who sings loudest in church.   They may be pleading a cause of which they are not proud. Swift action by the wrong person often takes the decision out of the hands of the one who…

  • Echoing Softly

    Echoing Softly Echoing softly, in the night the willing heart is nudged quietly into sleep.  Wondering why in this place, the interest pales and fails to keep soul aloft. There is no time as now for events to falter, for the spirit wills its place to be yet.. So, come now, foolish it is to…

  • And We Live Again

    the music tangles in the wind of muted sound and we live again When our son became seriously ill and I could not find holiday cards that spoke to what my heart carried,   I started to make Christmas cards.   The first card was made with construction paper  and carried a poem of mine that I…

  • How To Comment On My Blog

    Dear loyal followers,    I have had some emails from you and you are having difficulty making your comments on my blog.  Many  of you receive my posts in your smart phones.  To make comments you must go to my blog which is fromanupperfloor.com.  If you put me into your toolbar it will be easy for…

  • A Silent Thank You

                                                                                                                     Hey there, mister. . . .are you ready?   Almost,  he says and in a few minutes he appeared. Where are we going,  he asked and I said to do some errands .   We can walk and because it is early,  it is still cool.   We did not hurry along,  just sauntered.   As we came…

  • Listen, Ophelia

    The English Professor took umbrage with me and my manuscript.   He said he had never seen anyone do this before!  It was unheard of! He called me an anarchist.   (I had to look up the word because I was not quite sure what was meant.  One who overthrows is an anarchist.)   He had read all…