No Matter the Time of Year, It Always Feels Like Winter by Linda-Lou Cave Duffy (ebook voice reader txt) ๐
Read free book ยซNo Matter the Time of Year, It Always Feels Like Winter by Linda-Lou Cave Duffy (ebook voice reader txt) ๐ยป - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Linda-Lou Cave Duffy
Read book online ยซNo Matter the Time of Year, It Always Feels Like Winter by Linda-Lou Cave Duffy (ebook voice reader txt) ๐ยป. Author - Linda-Lou Cave Duffy
Read Between the Lines
The holidays are here and my heart still remains heavy.
As I gaze into the mirror, itโs hard to read between the lines of my life.
The most holy of days has arrived and one that brought me so much joy.
Yet as I look deeper into the mirror, itโs hard to read between the lines.
Itโs cold. Itโs damp. The winter chill is everywhere.
Is this the causal affect of the lines I struggle to read?
The winter wind blows through my mind; flipping the pages of my life.
The pages move so swiftly, itโs nearly impossible to read between the lines.
The ice on the window, the fog on the mirror
Lets me know that the blistering winter gale winds are not kind.
I lived through spring, summer and fall and now I find myself reflecting
As I move through the winter months of my life.
Will I be here? Will I be there? Where will I be in the future?
No one really knows for sure and yet I always try to read between the lines.
I think of Stacy and all the joy she brought me when I kissed her cheek goodnight.
Sean would hug me so hard with love, I felt as if Iโd burst.
When my heart would crack and sometimes break from stations in my life.
I still would stop and analyze and read between the lines.
When I felt alone in the cold and dark, when I felt as if Iโd die,
I would toss it up and turn it around and read between the lines.
Iโve come to a point in my life when the end is certainly near.
Am I forgiven? There is so much to think about.
Who did I hurt? Who hurt me? Does it really matter? I think I forgave.
Did I pray enough? Was I prayed for? I think about this a lot.
Both of my children were my absolute world, the only good in my life.
I gave them as much as I could and would give them my last breath.
Theyโd tell me something and Iโd turn it around to read between the lines.
I wanted them to know that I understood in every way I could.
As I gaze into the mirror, to paint a happy face on a very doubtful soul,
My eyes glisten with tears at the happy and sad moments all throughout my life.
Itโs not so hard now to understand and read between those lines.
Because those lines appear throughout my face to mark my space in time.
โ
Do You Believe?
Do you still believe in the reindeer flying across the midnight sky?
I use to sleep on Christmas Eve with one eye opened wide.
Iโd hear the sound of dancing and pounding on my roof.
But in the light of the very next day, I didnโt see any proof.
Do you still believe in the fat little man, a Ho Ho filled with glee?
I use to get a mound of gifts underneath my Christmas tree.
Iโd hear the paper wrinkle, the cookie and milk were gone.
But in the morning after, there were no footprints in the lawn.
Do you still believe in the mistle toe that you didnโt want to be under?
I never understood the kissing concept. It always made me wonder.
Do you still believe that Santa is in every single department store?
I canโt stand to even shop โ itโs all a tremendous chore!
I donโt believe the reindeers fly or dance upon my roof.
I really think that Santa is just a commercial spoof.
Iโm all grown up, the kids are gone and I sit here all alone.
Perhaps my disbelief is the reason Santa doesnโt visit my home.
โ
Victorious Love
I've loved and sorrowed, despaired and survived. I've bumped head-on into my own humanity time after time.
Getting in touch with that humanity wasn't an easy thing for me. Nor is it for any of us who were raised to excel, to make contributions to the world, to rise above anger and jealousy and all of those other things that none of us ever rise above.
I don't write about rising above; I write about going through it. In the going through comes the victory - or at least the survival.
I've survived because of prayer, which I believe in, and therapy, which I also believe in, and love - which I believe in most of all.
โ
What If?
What if we get a second chance?
What if we open our hearts, make ourselves vulnerable, and risk our emotional stability?
What if we recognize that second chance?
What if we're wise enough to recognize someone who enhances our life?
What if that person sends chills down our body?
What if they put a smile on our face just with the thought of them?
What if you feel you've come home when you arrive there with them?
What if you feel you know them completely and they know you equally?
What if you can make each other laugh with just a few words?
What if their hand stroking your hair makes you weak in the knees?
What if you have someone to help you juggle all the balls in the air?
You can only say "what if" so many times, before you discover you are there,
And that perhaps it is fate.
What if, we take a deep breath and decide to take that second chance . . . on each other?
Let's just enjoy the journey . . . . no matter where it leads . . . together.
What if?
โ
OUR LOVE
Even though we canโt be near
Youโre missed so much I shed a tear.
You couldnโt be nearer to my heart
The love we share could not be apart.
The way you sigh, the way you smile.
Your strength, your courage all the while.
If others seem to back away,
My love for you will always stay.
My thoughts are with you in every way
Not just on this holiday.
I miss the shuffle of your feet
While baking a dish no one could beat.
I miss the sound of the truck horn blowing
Seeing soon a wise face glowing.
Itโs not the presents on Christmas Day
That makes me love you in this special way.
Itโs not the birthday card sent to me
That makes my love deeper than any sea.
In some peopleโs love, I guess this is true
But the love you give me, I give twice to you.
To describe the things that make you mean so much to me
Would take much more than an eternity.
The walk in the fields to peel a peach half
To catch a wild rabbit or see a new calf.
To smell clean air while holding my hand.
You stood like a giant on the wide open land.
To giggle over a mess that Iโd made
And when I got older, the way you forgave.
Sometimes when thinking in my fantasy dream
Iโve found a cure to make the world gleam!
It would make sad people happy and sick people well
Earth would be Heaven and there would be no more Hell.
The problem is people, they donโt want to see
Thereโs more to the word love, than a holiday deed.
Thereโs more to love, than just to say it,
Itโs something you have that no one can take.
Itโs not just, โI love youโ that can be fake.
I would simply recall all the love that we shared
And ask the Lord in this simple prayer;
Take from the mold which my grandparents were formed
With this, add their wisdom and strength all adorned.
That the whole human race should in this way be made
But most important their value of love, which would never, ever fade.
My cure you see is not so unreal
When you have love, it seems quite ideal.
As our word love cannot clearly be defined
The love I have for you will be clearly in mind.
Ours is an emotion ~ a vibrating wave.
Which travels the miles to our heavenly days.
MY SECRET
Just when I felt I put away my childish ways
You came into my mind.
I never dreamed youโd reappear
To feelings I thought Iโd left behind.
Presumptuous of me to create you
As I dream that you will be;
Without knowing you at all,
Youโve become very close to me
I wonder what drink you drink
Or music you like to hear.
Iโve even convinced myself I even know
Your dreams and inner fears.
I realize I may be setting myself up
Only to take a fall.
But Iโd rather deal with what Iโve said
Then to never have told you at all.
โ
MY CHILD AND I
Once, a life filled with the richness and joy No one but a child could comprehend.
Once, a life with the pureness of a daisy; fresh, kissed with the morning dew.
Once, fullness, now sparse as a desert. Once, fresh, now spoiled.
Where did his life go?
Can life die within a living soul?
Can it be completely destroyed?
As I ponder on my thoughts of where a life I had went
Or maybe of a life Iโve dreamed of, minutes, hours and
Days pass quickly before me.
Once, my past days seemed happy. But, dark days followed
Closely and all memories of what seemed joyful soon
Disappeared and only sorrow prevailed.
Once, love seemed fulfilling with what I thought was shared emotions.
Deceived and nearly destroyed, a dark thundering cloud hangs hovering over my heart.
Once, happy with the thought of childโbut seeing, as gazing through clear glass only one heart was joyful..
Once, again deceived and nearly destroyed.
Leaving, farness was not near enough.
My heart, my mind and my child.
Now, not once, but now my life is empty, cold and dark.
Openly aware of the deceit ahead of my new life.
Not so much the awareness of deceit but the necessity to be aware of people.
Now, more prepared, but still nearly destroyed, I will ascend to the nearness of happiness.
As near as possible; my child and I ~ alone.
โ
LOVE OFFERS NO GUARANTEES
Iโve desired love, encouraged love and felt love.
With this, physically fulfilled momentarily,
Silence is the loudest sound heard.
Emotions flush my body and soul as quickly as sand of an hour glass.
Wanting, loving hoping and the desire for a moment of happiness
And to feel fulfilled as a woman
His kisses now seem more meaningful. His touch more tender.
Leaving me in a dream world of fantasy and one of great ecstasy.
For this I feel he now truly loves me.
But does one ever know the thoughts of one man?
The silence is broken by the sound of a closing door; and heโs gone.
As I think back of the sound of the many doors that closed,
Breaking the barrier of silence, I feel it to be much more defining than any explosion ever heard.
Warning myself a thousand times, and yet somehow I keep reliving the same fantasy scene.
Comments (0)