I Believe In Heroes

I originally posted this in 2015 and I know I’m a little late for the 4th, but I felt that it was appropriate for our nation’s celebration of freedom. I hope you enjoy! 🙂

Penny Wilson Writes

This man was a mere mortal of flesh and blood.  The light I saw in his eyes was that of an honorable man.  The honor this man carried with pride, was that of rare and unimaginable beauty.

I knew he was a man, with weaknesses as men have.  But I saw what was inside.  He was a Nobleman of Old.  He saw the demons and beasts that few of us see.  He would give his life to slay them.

He thought his life was better served on the battlefield.

He relied on his instincts and his brethren in the heat of battle.

My hand touched his, one last time, as he turned his shining eyes away.  I knew he couldn’t stay.  He had paused on his quest just long enough to give me a glimpse of himself.  There were battles to be fought and dragons to slay.

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Past lives…

I posted this in 2014. I’ve decided that I’m going to re-blog some of my posts that I feel would be of interest to newer followers. I hope you enjoy this piece. 🙂

Penny Wilson Writes


My very early childhood was unusual, to say the least.  My brothers, mother and I moved a LOT.  I’ve been told I was born with wheels on my butt.

After my mother left my father, she was married to a man for a few years that was a migrant worker.  As a family, we followed the fruit, picking as we went, to earn a living.  We lived in Picker’s Cabins or tents or the back of the station wagon.

This was in the early 1960’s.   Most people don’t realize that in the 1960’s, 83% of the migrant workers were white families, just like mine.  Today, the migrant workers are mostly Hispanic.  The working conditions are no better today, in fact in some instances, they are worse.

Most of the Picker’s Cabins had no running water or electricity.  Women cooked on communal stoves or over open fires.  The toilets, if there…

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Spam, the Epic Continues!

*Spam. We all get it, we all have to deal with it. We might as well have some fun with it, right? Below is another installment of me dealing with some spam that I have received recently.  My comments on these are in BOLD.

If you would like to laugh along with me, my other Spam posts can be found HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE.  Enjoy!  🙂  

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Hot-Weather Tips for Visitors to Texas — Biff Sock Pow

I live in Fort Worth, Texas and it has been horribly hot here lately.  I’ve thought about writing about it, but after I saw Biff’s post, I knew I couldn’t top it.  Please enjoy his post and be sure to look over his blog while you are there.  It’s well worth the visit!

It looks like it’s going to be another scorcher today here in Texas. Which, is pretty much like saying, “It looks like the sun will be coming up again today.” A few days ago when I was driving home from work, the outside temperature (according to my car’s temperature display) was 108 degrees […]

via Hot-Weather Tips for Visitors to Texas — Biff Sock Pow

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Today, your hair was silver with a touch of brown sprinkled in it.  Your eyes are blue.  We watched as that old woman patched another hole in her ragged doll’s dress.

But I remember the day that I saw you as a blonde Imp.  With your devilish ways, you convinced me to bludgeon that horrible man to death.  Your reasons were quite convincing, and you were right.  He deserved it.

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You’re standing there alone.  Watching the waves, just like you do every day.  Maybe today I’ll have the courage to say hello. Maybe I’ll have the courage to ask you what is that you see when you look at the waves?  What are you hoping to find?

The wind tousles your brown hair, pushing it back from your face.  Your piercing blue eyes hold their gaze.  They’re as cold as the sea on this November morning.

I take another step forward. I’m closer today than I’ve ever been.  Today.  I must do this today before I lose my courage.  A deep breath and another step forward.  And another.

You turn away and slowly walk up the beach.  Your head down, shoulders slumped.  I can feel the sorrow in your gait.

My moment has passed.  Maybe tomorrow.

I walk forward and scan the waves as they lap the shoreline.  I’m standing where you stood.  What is it that you see?  What are you searching for?   Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask you.  Maybe tomorrow.

Copyright © 2018 Penny Wilson

*This is in response to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Thursday photo prompt.  If you would like to get in on the fun, you can find out all about it HERE

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Her eyes

met his.

Gaze locked.

Imagined embrace.

More than skin



Will fate decide?

Copyright © 2018 Penny Wilson

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