FUEL THE HATE, FEED THE BEAST

 

People problems, People problems

Everywhere that you go

People problems, People problems

Drowning my soul

Multitudes of adults acting like kids

fighting on the playground

They do not know how to be peaceful, they do not know how to be sound

They wear their hate like a crown

Entitlement attitude

Everywhere that you go today

Arrogance is the flame

Selfish, vain and rude

Choosing to stay the same

Sucking on the racist tit

keeping the fires lit

Continuing to rage

Feeding the Beast

Wild animals should be in a cage

Betrayal and hidden motives

Contradictions unfolding

Peace is so hard to obtain

When you are surrounded by the insane

The choice is to offend, and accept offense

Death they send

They fight about race

The moronic they embrace

They feed the Beast, making it larger

Instead of killing it, they make it stronger

Their hate is conjured

The fire has been lit

Arrogance is the flame

They stay the same

This is it

Blazing hatred, fanning the embers of hate

Trouble and chaos they crave

Death they create

If our forefathers could see

They would weep

Mouths they cannot keep

Perverting freedom

They are Ignorant

Commonsense is Elusive

the Beast is abusive

raging in the earth

Devastating and causing hurt

Salting the wounds

Inviting doom

Too stupid to see

THE WORLD OWES ME!

They feed the Beast, making it larger

Instead of killing it, They make it stronger

Their hate is conjured

Comprehension has failed their ears

Learning nothing over the years

Repeating insanity

All for vanity

Living in the past, keeping it alive

Spewing lies

Ignoring cries

There is no mercy with the Beast

He has many to join him in the feast

We made the meal

Inviting the Beast to steal

inviting the Beast to kill

Blood he spills

Lets wake up and see

Lets let people be

Lets kill the Beast

So we together can be free

Now is words of wisdom

for this season

Now is the time

Time to unite

So we can survive

Fight for life

Appreciate our freedoms

Not use it as a reason to hate more

Let us stop being the beasts whore.

LETS BECKON LOVE, FREEDOM AND PASSION

I have a book that I have read many times and I have certain pages marked that are worthy to read every day. The book is called “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran. It is insightful and beautifully poetic. It was printed in 1923 and still inspires today. Love is the missing ingredient in the recipe of life today. So many things would change over night if…we would resurrect love. I am choosing to share what Kahlil said of LOVE, Freedom and Passion.

When love beckons to you, follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the North wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,

and weep, but not all of your tears.

Today Freedom is taken for granted and used for wicked purposes. Today freedom of speech can get you sued if its not something someone wants to hear. Our freedoms in this great country have become perverted. We are free to hurt people and somehow that is OK. We are free to scream and fight about silly petty stuff. We are free to be assholes, rude and arrogant. We are free to keep hate alive and sadly do. We are free to evade truth and responsibility and sadly we do. We are free to rob hard working citizens of their homes via legal tax scams now advertising their business, Or robbing teachers and many others of their retirement. We are free to be thieves but as long as you have a suit and a loop hole you somehow get by with it. We are free to have zero conscience or respect. I want to share what he says about FREEDOM.

At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom,

Even as slaves humble themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them.

Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the finest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff.

And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you,

and when you cease to speak freedom as a goal or fulfillment.

You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief,

But rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound.

And how shall you rise beyond your days and nights unless you break the chains which you as the dawn of your understanding have fastened around your noon hour?

In truth that which you call freedom is the strongest of these chains, though its links glitter in the sun and dazzle your eyes.

And what is it but fragments of your own self you would discard that you may become free?

If it is an unjust law you would abolish,

that law was written with your own hand upon your forehead.

You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them.

And if it is a despot you would dethrone,

see first that this throne erected within you is destroyed.

For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyrant in their own freedom and a shame in their own pride?

and if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you.

And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared.

Verily all things move within your being in constant embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape.

These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling.

And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes shadow to another light.

And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.

We have misplaced passion today. Misplaced passion is passion with no purpose behind it. I am a very passionate chic about many things but…I understand that misplaced passion causes mega chaos. We live in a world today whose motto is “If it feels good then do it” We see the results of this attitude. We all would do well to harness some passions and examine them more thoroughly.

Wars are created from misplaced passion, Hate crimes are created by misplaced passion, Alot of divorce today is created by misplaced passion, abuse of every kind is created by misplaced passion and ignorance. The drug pandemic is created by misplaced passion. The list could go on and on. Kahlil actually speaks about reason and passion but REASON TODAY IS UNREASONABLE!!!!! People reason the wrong things right all day everyday. Multitudes of excuses have been created all because of reasoning today or the lack thereof. Here is what Kahlil said on the subject of REASON and PASSION.

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite.

Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody.

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements?

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.

If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing;

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house.

Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both.

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows

_then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”

And when the storm comes, and the might wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky_then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.”

And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

Another Day, Another Page

Kimber Renee

MY TREASURE CHESTS

I shared that I asked my Granny many years ago to write down how her and Papaw met, places that they lived and anything funny she wanted to share. She did take the time to write this out for me and it has been tucked in my hope chest along with other treasures. I put it in a folder labeled Granny’s memories, also I typed it in my computer naming the document Granny’s memories and sent it to family. I recently went through my hope chests revisiting times and places and the life and memories that each possession held.

When I was seven years old I loved Strawberry Shortcake and I desperately wanted a Strawberry Shortcake blow a kiss doll. Mom got it for me. If you squeezed her belly she would blow a kiss that sincerely did smell like strawberries. Unfortunately as I got older and had a sister I gave it to her and she did not take care of her but…years later I got her back. I still have her and her kisses still do smell like strawberries. I also had Barbies then. I use to get a new Barbie every report card day if the report was good. This only lasted a year but twelve beautiful Barbies were earned. I had peaches and cream Barbie, Day glow Barbie, Day and night Barbie and many others. I would make my cousin Andy be the judge of the Barbie beauty contest Ha Ha. Sadly I gave them to my sister when I had outgrown them having no idea of their value. My sister was rough as a corncob as they say and she tore heads off and lost their clothing. She did not appreciate my Barbie friends anymore than my cousin Andy did. I regret not having them but…the memories are fond to visit occasionally.

When I was eleven or twelve my Papaw built an auction house. He and my Granny would go to a place called Davis’s and get brand new merchandise for cheap and run it through the auction. My Papaw loved that auction house and the socializing that accompanied it. I use to work in the kitchen with my Granny. It was fun I had an uncle who was crazy (the good kind of crazy) he would auctioneer and he would sing to the crowd, cuttin up and having fun, everyone laughed and had a good time. My Papaw got me a plastic musical bride doll that stood a foot and half tall. You would wind her up and she would play music and her upper body would turn and her head would move up and down, and her eyes would open and shut. I still have her she is perfect except her head does not move as gracefully as it once did. This was a precious gift from my dear sweet Papaw that I will always treasure.

My mom use to have a huge music box collection. She had a glass shelf that she would set each box on. I use to enjoy looking at them and playing them. When I was a late teen she gave me the only one that she had left. It is a woman in a huge ball gown with a bow in her hair. She still plays music and spins around as if dancing across a ball room floor.

I have had a VCR/ DVD player combo for a couple of years. I have never used the VCR until recently when I found in my treasure chests two VCR tapes. I put the first one in and it was me and my husband when I was seventeen and he was twenty it was our first summer together. It was awesome! The other one was a huge thrill it was after we were already together for ten years and we lived in the “Bible-belt community.” I was outside filming our big beautiful yard outlined in pines with the creek across the road. The most beautiful thing on that tape was all of my babies(dogs). There they all were even my precious Randcy. Starting in 2009 I lost one every year from old age for five years. So imagine how wonderful it was to visit with them again. I was reminded of how much they were loved and what an amazing life that they all had. I had only watched the one of me and my husband once and the ones with the dogs I had never watched until recently. It was a blessing.

In my hope chests I have the original ring box that my engagement ring came in and the original box that our wedding rings came in. I have a scrap book I started after we got together, I kept up with it for probably three years. I have love letters and poems he wrote me. He got me many real bouquets over the years and some I have laminated but one time he got me thirty something artificial, roses and each had a card attached. On each card he named something he loved about me. I still have those cards inside of a pretty little box tucked safely in my treasure chest.

After my Papaw died the following Christmas my Granny made all of us pillowcases out of his shirts. It still brings tears to my eyes to see and touch them. I have his pocket watch and chain with a train engraved on the front of it. He had a large drawer in the dresser where he would keep things he prized and enjoyed, different funny stuff the family got him and many other things. The pocket watch was one of his treasured items and I am thankful that it is with me.

I have quilted albums. My Granny went through pictures and snuck and made all of us album for Christmas. She quilted each of them. The album started with our name and a poem with each letter representing something sweet. Another treasure.

Eventually my oldest cousin had a baby and it was a girl her name was Brittany. She lived away when she had her and fortunately she came back to Kentucky while she was still new born. I was thirteen and could not wait to get home from school to go to Granny’s and see her. I fell in love. She was my pass time and weekend fun for a long time. I am happy to say I was a big part of her life. I remember when she was first potty trained and I was newly with my husband. We walked her to town it was summer and hot and she said, “I am sure glad I have my panties on.” She was celebrating her liberation from the hot diaper lol. We took her to a pizza place and she called pizza “pitsta.” She is grown now twenty eight and beautiful and has the most awesome and creative daughter in the world. I have drawings that her little girl has done for me and my husband added to the collection of love gifts. She was the first baby I ever fell in love with. I have art work she did in high-school, a painting of big beautiful flowers stretched across canvas and drawings on paper. This same cousin had a second child and he was a boy a brother to Brittany his name is Blake. By the time he came I was an adult and he was our weekend fun. I hardly missed a day visiting him. We would pull up in the driveway and he would run over to the picture window throw back the curtains so excited to see us. I would run through her house with him like a crazy person. Sadly they moved when he was nine or ten and he would spend a few weeks with us in the summer and his Christmas vacations. We would play video games together he loved video games and still does. He had a class assignment when he was ten, he had to write a letter of appreciation to whomever he wanted. I was his pick. I still have that sweet letter he thanked me for loving him, and for being a nice cousin even though I felt more like their aunt. He ended it with and I quote “And I love your food.” Ha Ha. I have a ring that Blake got me. His class had to do different things to earn gifts for Christmas and they had gifts on a table and they could pick out what they wanted, he picked me a ring too sweet. It is still in my treasure chest along with the letter. I recently read that letter to him he enjoyed it as did I. He is twenty three now and a hard core rocker which I love and appreciate and he still enjoys time with me. I so appreciate my lovely cousin for sharing her kids with me and giving me a taste of being a mother and a chance to love and bond with them.

My sister began having children the first was a boy his name is Tyler he is fifteen now boo hoo. Tall cute as a button and keeps me laughing. I have his little plastic red hammer that he packed faithfully everywhere that he went. He also gave me a ring that he got at church.

The second child to come was my first niece Tayler Cheyenne. She is thirteen Yikes and absolutely gorgeous again yikes! We have had a bond since the first day she popped out Ha Ha. I always ask her, Do you know what I wish”? She would answer back “yes” and I would ask “what?” She would reply, “You wish that I was yours?” BINGO that is the right answer. I will be asking her that when she is thirty. I have a big beautiful Cinderella book I bought to keep at my house for her when she was two years old and every-time she would visit she and I would read it together. She loved it. It is still in my treasure chest. Her second or third birthday ironically was a Strawberry Shortcake party and I had a lot of pictures. Every-time she came to the house she would say, “I want to see me.” I knew what that meant so I would get the albums out and we would look at those pictures. Ha Ha. Unfortunately she despised dolls especially Barbie she was an arts and crafts girl. When she was ten years old she wrote me a letter telling me how much she loved me and how awesome of an aunt I was. It was another sweet letter that I will cherish all of my life. I have many pictures she colored for me dated month and year and her age. Many pictures she drew for me. Every keepsake from all of her parties. I have a friendship bracelet that I use as a book mark she gave me. Then came another nephew Tucker he is basically a twin to Tyler except he has blue eyes and Tyler has brown. I jokingly told my sister she is the only person who I know can clone kids. He is sweet and I have pictures he has drawn for me. He is eight and plays football and is sensitive like me. Last but not least my second niece (my sister stayed busy lol) Bella, she just turned four and is a cracker jack. She is full of personality. She loves Barbies Yay! I got her a 24 inch barbie for her birthday this year. It was as big as her and she packed it around everywhere. It was an outside party so I stepped inside to get Tyler talking British. He can do an amazing accent even though he is a country boy. I cant get enough of it so I filmed him a while. I am a strawberry blonde and my sister nick named me red so the kids always refer to me as aunt red. Bella comes and gets me and says while grabbing my hand, Come on aunt wed lets talk. She pronounces her Rs with Ws so flippin cute. She is such a girlie girl and loves shoes and dolls. She is still a hardcore frozen fan. I suspect I will eventually have treasures from her as well to add to my chests of love and memories and I look forward to it. I have keepsakes from all of their parties that they will enjoy looking at some day.

Along with my treasure chests I have an attic that holds some good stuff. My wedding dress and every stuffed animal my husband ever got me, bears that I could literally hide behind of. One of my most treasured in the attic is a big blue tub full of my Baby Randcy’s toys. I had her 17 years. She loved her stuffed animals and took very good care of them. In my hope chest I have a shoe box of my house dog now Sheba’s first toys she was four weeks old when we got her and she had a small beany bear and elephant that was her size, their eyes are ripped out of their head lol Her first ball a small little red and white soccer ball with a hole in the side of it. Even now seven years later nothing has changed Sheba’s toy basket looks macabre full of headless, eyeless, gutted stuffed animals lol

My small hope chest has a red and white starburst quilt my Granny made me for a wedding gift folded neatly across it, and my big hope chest has the wedding ring quilt she made laid across it. The dutch girl quilt is folded neatly in my closet and I pull it out every spring and summer because it is so colorful. Each dutch girl has a different color dress and bonnet in each block, bright vibrant colors Orange and pink and blue some calico dresses very, very sweet I LOVE IT! I spread it out during the day putting it away at night to keep it nice.There are many other things not mentioned that hide in those chests but I hope you enjoyed what i have shared.

All of these things represent life, the beautiful moments and this is where I encourage all of my lovely readers to camp at today. Go to your treasures and reminisce with gratitude for all the precious memories and wonderful blessings of your life. I heard it said, lets choose laughter over war. Very good statement. This is how we should live.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

Thanksgiving is almost a week away and I have much to be thankful for. I am thankful for specific things everyday, but I want to carry that Thankful attitude all through-out the year. I am choosing to share a short story I wrote many years ago called “Be Careful what You wish for” I feel it is relevant for this season. It has a message that we all could use. Enjoy 

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

Sarah Vermillion sat quietly on the window seat in her parlor staring out at the weeping willows that surrounded her yard. She got up and grabbed a box off of the table which carried several vases decorated with Daisies. She ran out the door and began dressing the tables that were graced with lace table cloths on them, lovely she thought, but it would have pleased her more to have roses. Dean was throwing a birthday party for her, his one and only true love. Dean came up behind her and hugged and kissed her neck, greeting her, “Hello beautiful happy birthday” he says. She said, “You have wished me three happy birthdays since we have been up, are you trying to age me.” He said, “My dear you are as young to me today as you were when I first looked into those beautiful blue green eyes.” They had been married for eight years. Deans adoration was all consuming, gracing her with a compliment everyday. He owned a small horse farm and worked incessantly to please Sarah and give her all that his money and back would allow. He was ambitious and believed he would have the biggest horse farm in the state one day. The guests began arriving and Sarah’s best friend Shelley and her daughter Bell were sharing in gossip when a strapping young man approaches Bell and kissed her with a passion that made both Sarah and Shelley blush. Shelley said, stop now young ones that is shameful in public. The teenagers giggled and ran off.

Sarah secretly was jealous, she had fantasized many a day and night about what that kind of passion would be like again. She yearned for it and could not be satisfied with the true love of which she was blessed. They all had a wonderful time and the night left only Sarah and Dean. He kissed her and said, “Sarah, “you look more beautiful with every year that passes.” She smiled and reciprocated his compliment with a kiss, very unlike the kiss she had witnessed earlier, hers was reduced to his strong cheek. He sensed something was wrong and asked, “Darling what is wrong do you feel well?” She says “yes why?” He said, “You seem down.” She said, “Guess its the birthday blues.” He smiled the warm smile that she had seen thousands of times and said, “This will pass my love, tomorrow is a new day and I am thankful for another year with you.” She did not return the sweetness instead she kept thinking about the passion between Bell and John. Dean asked are you coming to bed. She said, “No it is only nine o’clock.” He said, “Well darling I have to get up early tomorrow and I am beat. Night my love as he kissed her gently.”

She began to reflect and she started getting angry. She looked around at the one story house and thought how small. Overlooking the beautiful decor and expensive rugs and lace curtains that seemed to dance for her each day when she opened her windows. The birds singing all around her as if serenading her. She felt resentful saying to herself, Shelley has a house twice the size of mine, and as she thought further she really got upset saying, as a matter of fact all of our friends have bigger and more lavish homes. She went to sleep dis-satisfied and awoke the same way. She got up with Dean and began making his breakfast, she had to milk the cow. She looked at Dean and said, “I am so tired of soiling my hands on this farm, why can’t we have servants like Shelley?” Dean said, sweetly with sadness in his eyes, “I am sorry Sarah it wont be much longer and we will hit it rich.” She shot back at him, “I have heard that for eight years and meanwhile I live in a one story house, carrying blisters on my hands working the garden.” Dean said, “Its not like you are in poverty Sarah, we do well and better than most. Have you wanted any good thing? Look at your dresses how they make you shine and the jewelry that you love showing off. I know our home is small Sarah, but it is nice and almost speaks to you saying, come and rest and relax awhile, he chuckled.” She was not amused and she grabbed the milk bucket and stormed off to the barn.

He followed her and said, “I am sorry I will do better I promise, please don’t be unhappy Sarah because your happiness is my desire always. Can you give me a smile before I hit the dusty trail.” She did muster a half-smile and a peck on the lips was all he got. He did not care, he was satisfied but unfortunately she was not. She grabbed the garden tools to begin a flower bed over to the left of the house. She began to dig and had hit something hard, she thought it was a rock and hit it harder and realized it was medal. She dug and dug and pulled a medal box out of ground. It looked ancient and had a lock on it. She immediately got excited and her imagination went wild thinking of the possibilities of what could be hidden inside. She went to the barn and busted the lock and opened it and gold dust came up and hit her in the face causing her to cough. She clears her throat and sees a burlap sack. She pulls the sac out and found a beautiful bottle. It was fat and covered in jewels, topaz, gold and rubies. She felt as if it were breathing. She dug deeper in the box and found a letter. It read

Whoever may find this, no matter what day or night

you will be given wishes thrice

whoever may find this, no matter what year it be

Be careful what you wish for, you only have three.

Think before you ask, so that your heart may stay true

Be careful what you wish for, because it can come back on you

You cannot wait to wish for what you may desire, there is only an allotted time

Do not wait long and let this opportunity pass you by

So open the bottle once your wishes are made

and stand back and be amazed

When your wishes are made, close and reseal

It will never work for you again no matter how you feel

The wishes cannot be taken back once they are made

So be careful what you choose to say

Return it to the ground where it can remain

Leaving it for the next that desires change.

She half believed it and thought, if this letter is true, then this is what she had been waiting for. She thought, I do not need to think about my wishes I know what I want. The first wish was for an exciting young man. The second wish was for wealth, bigger house and servants. The third and last wish was for long life. She opened the bottle and nothing happened. She was expecting something supernatural to take place and nothing was different. She was disappointed and placed it back in its home and left it. A few days later she had forgotten all about it. Shelley asked her to go to party. Shelley knew that she was on her own for a few days. Dean was out-of-town on business. Shelley filled her in telling her that, the hosts name was Seth Cranston. She went on to explain that he was a very powerful and rich man who owned three saloons. She told her that her husband Robert was trying to make a very promising business deal with him. Sarah joyfully accepted her invitation. They stepped inside of a gorgeously decorated ball room. The floors were shining like glass, Sarah could see her reflection in them. They mingled and had some drinks, then the music started. Sarah did not have a suitor there so she was compelled to go to the veranda which was breath-taking. The moon was full and it was a warm and windy night. Magnolias and roses glistening from the moonlight, the scent of jasmine in the air. It was a perfect night as far as Sarah was concerned. A servant brought her out a drink and she thought, this is the life, I could get use to this. It wasn’t as if she had not been to parties with the rich, but the problem was it was over at the end of the night. She craved this life. She looked back and caught the eye of the host Seth Cranston. He was tall and very handsome. Hair as black as night and chocolate-brown eyes that melted her. She quickly looked away. He began to come over to her. She was excited and scared with anticipation.

The closer he got the more nervous she became, after all she was a married country girl who milked cows and worked the garden, what would she say. As he was approaching her she quickly wiped her hands on her dress getting rid of the evidence of her nervousness, which was sweaty palms. He put his hand out and introduced his self, “I am Seth Cranston who might you be?” She told him her name and they shook hands. The rest of the night they were inseparable. They talked and danced till the party was over. He asked her if he could see her again? She said, “I am married.” He said, “The way you have looked at me all night says differently.” She instantly knew he did not care that she was married and then the tidal wave began.

Sarah got up to the sound of loud saloon music. She looked out her window and sees nothing but a brick wall. She goes into the water closet and looks in the mirror and sees that fifteen years had passed. Looking at all the lines and scars that marked her now, she saw more than fifteen years stretched across her face. Seth was killed over cheating people. She did not grieve but instead prayed many a night he would die in his sleep. Her dream man turned out to be unfaithful and a woman beater. She took countless beatings over twelve years. She survived them all and felt that, that was an accomplishment. She was left with nothing, everything was sold to pay off Seth’s debts. She worked at the saloon as the cook and bottle washer. She often wondered about Dean and had lived in regret of making those wishes so long ago. She was desperate and decided to go back to her and Deans horse farm, and dig up that box and hope and pray after all these years that the force that resided would not know it was her. The words rang in her ears from the poem, “It will never work for you again no matter how you feel.” The very words that excited her fifteen years ago, now haunted her. She did not care, what did she have to lose. She took a coach ride to the farm. The driver pulled up and she was astounded the ground was barren, no longer rich and vibrant, no more vegetables, no more horses running the property. The fence was rotting and broken. She walked to the house and could see how worn down it had become, the shutters were missing, blown off by the winds that use to dance for her through the curtains. She was saddened as she stepped inside the house with memories flooding her. Seeing the day play out when Dean bought the house and farm. She remembered how happy she was. Remembering getting the rugs and furniture and how cozy she felt then. She went over to the window seat covered in dust and she sat down staring out at the weeping willows that actually seemed to be weeping now. It was totally quiet and no birds were serenading her. It was abandoned and lonely.

She was on her way to the box. She knew she could not have Dean ever again, she had heard many years ago he remarried and hit it rich, and did end up having the biggest horse farm in the state. He lived on hundreds of acres and had a three story house and two children. She grieved for her discontentment all those years ago. Her only hope was the box. She opened it and proceeded to make her wishes. She wished that she could undo her wishes and turn back time. She wished she could find contentment in life. She wished she would have appreciated what she had. After the wishes there was nothing out of the ordinary just like before. There was no change. She understood how important choice was and that her third wish would be to live long and even that one backfired because she was left to suffer, with no take backs. She had forfeited true love for excitement. She had snubbed her little cozy house to now be in a hotel with a view of a big, ugly brick wall. She followed the beast that all human beings have, which was her emotions and impulses. She chose the temporal over the permanent. So the moral of the story is be careful what you wish for.

I prefer happy endings but for this story just like real life, choices do not always turn out well. I was inspired long ago to do this story because of all the discontented people. This story is written for all of those who have the “grass is always greener on the other side syndrome.” This story is written to all those who leap before they think, living out of their emotions and not counting the costs. For all of those who can’t see their blessings instead curse them. Let us count our blessings today, and purpose to be happy with what we have, and who we have to share it with.

By Kimber Renee