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Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
welcome to the world
welcome to the world The shallow bowl held only four items. A hairline crack ran down the side, as it had for nearly 47 years. It sat in the same place, moved only when lifted by hands that prodded its contents just to set it down again. Some things begin to be after enough time. they are no longer a thing, they hold too much within to be just an object any longer. Despite their use, they have transcended. Shh, it’s a secret only and dying people recognize, it’s a truth all the same. Morning dew left faery handkerchiefs in the grass, the sun just now lighting on them, jeweled memories of the gatherings she is never woke to see. She sidestepped the little webs, holding her skirt high, careful not to break any. It would be a hot one today, already her curls tangled, began to crawl higher. By the time she took her place, her feet were wet. To sit in a field of a morning is a strong thing. It’s breathing in life. Of course, the same can be said for a forest or the ocean. It helps not to chatter. When she pushed back against the rock, she was ready for the day. It would be a long one, no doubt. When home, she slipped her hand in the shallow bowl and pulled out the amethyst crystal with the anemone inside it. Stepping outside, she passed the crystal through a faery web, slipped it in her apron pocket. It would cut the pain for the mother. She tidied, read, made a batch of dough for bread, started her laundry. It was nearly 3:00 when the call came. She decided to walk, the boy coming was still waiting for something. It would take a while. She took the dough with her. Bread would be good for the family for supper; the smell might pull the wee one out. Her smile was broad as she set off. image in first comment You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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[image] You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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ps. his name is Jason Leghman.......lastname bet he prefers boobs You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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I love the way you paint the landscape, and a tiny bit of the subject, but leave the small details for the reader's imagination. "Shall I tell you the secret of the true scholar? It is this: every man I meet is my master in some point, and in that I learn of him." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Lovely prose. I think I'll like it here. "Everything in moderation, including moderation" - Oscar Wilde
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Very nice hun I really do enjoy these posts you write, they are so heartfelt, thank you for sharing them with us..
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Awesome! Leghman indeed - I bet he prefers boobs too.
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Beautiful and captured every detail wicked. Hugs V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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Just love your writing... Definitely worth coming back here for.
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It's your description of fields that's got me this time. Fields change big time not just from season to season but from morning to evening. I love fields particularly if wild things are growing along with the planted crops.
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This was a great description of many of my doula friends and how they feel about that day of work and potential bliss. Sis, keep on writing, kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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To sit in a field of a morning is a strong thing. It’s breathing in life. These are the type of lines I love to read from writers... so much impact and meaning caught in brevity. Thoughts from the Garden...
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