This is a home away from home, a place of solace, sharing selected poetry, Art, Snap Shots of history and more.

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December 14th, 2013 · No Comments

Times changed, as daggers were strewn, tongues lashing, judgements
calling. A raging storm set forth and that once happy abode became a
target, a place of fear to the occupants who tried to live in peace there.
How mighty and fierce one can be, on the other side of the mountain with
no images of clarity.

Oh we pound our fists, make our threats, loudly intimidate, holding others
accountable in order to see the interactions, the reactions, the tumbling
stories unfold, waitng for an ugly ending. Feasting not on food but yet on
gossip, needless, senseless gossip.

One seems to forget the good times, the silver serving sets shining brillance,
the perfect table setting, fine china, all laid out to please, the elegance of
the first lady and the soft and welcoming words that flowed filling a day with
happiness…yes one forgets, the favors, the gifts, the inspiration, the worry,
the care and compassion but yet mouths flap like hungry fish.

The elegance disappears as the years offer brital bones, memory loss, bent
fingers as neuropathy visits ones lower extremities. No no more perfect table
settings, no fancy pies, cheesecake squares or lemon tarts. Eyes that once
could see, now savor peaceful moments in the dark, blind and forgotten.

Pointed fingers, thrashing that which we know nothing of. Congregating
with family, congregating with friends you see, back lashing, boldly trying to
rape ones self esteem. Yet those whose rubbish we listen too, have nothing
of worth coming through. No knocks on the door to say hello,no telephone
calls saying, I love you, no food baskets wishing one well or a happy note with
cute words…I’m thinking of you, I think you’re swell.

One might sift through their thoughts looking for answers. Pondering, asking
the question…does perfection live on the other side of the mountain? Does
the advice thrown out bear good results or wreak havoc and bring forth death.
Who are these people, what are they in lack of. Time certainly is of the essence
and prayer is a factor but don’t pray for me or those I’m caring for. The mirage
of visitation no longer exists nor surface on the fields of acceptance.

Torn assunder, yet love still reigns within ones heart. We may decide to forgive,
but never forget and with these words, one must depart.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Aug. 19/2012
© 2013 Above The Rain (All rights reserved)

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