Posted in Poetry

Frayed Memories

My memories 
of you 
have become frayed.  

Tattered and worn 
around the edges 
from endless usage.  

They are not 
as crisp and sharp 
as they were yesterday 

but still 
just as 
precious. 

Copyright (C) 2022 Penny Wilson

*Photo is of my Mother when she was a teen. 

**My friend, Chuck at The Reluctant Poet used the words
"Frayed Memories" in something recently and I was inspired
to write this poem.  I hope you enjoyed.  
Posted in Poetry

All That’s Left

My skin 
remembers
your tender touch

Your soft
whispers
memorized

Each line and curve
of your face
the blue of your eyes
forever enshrined

At unexpected moments
I'm reminded of
last talks
last walks
the last times...

I treasure
each of these
for they're all I have left
of you  


Copyright (C) 2022 Penny Wilson

 

Posted in Life, Prose, Stories

Box of Memories

I wrote this in 2018 and came across it today. I like it. I hope you do too. ❤

Penny Wilson Writes

Sorting through that bookshelf, all I intended to do was to gather a few books to donate when I saw it.  The Box of Memories.  The box was something that I had found in an antique store.  The box had been carefully hand made and at one time was someone’s treasure.  It was battered and aged, but had it’s own beauty and I had to have it.

I pulled the box down and wiped the dust off the top. After opening the lid, I lifted an old photo out of the box and looked at it.  It was curled and yellow with age.  I couldn’t remember the last time that I looked through The Box of Memories.  Years.  The picture of my oldest brother, taken just after High School.  He was ready to take on the world.  A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth.  He looked out…

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Posted in Poetry

Off the Deep End

I went off the deep end 
with you  

Drowning in my 
blinded conception 
of your love  

My descent 
took me closer 
to darkness 
and further 
from the truth  

You were never mine  

Not really

Copyright (c) 2022 Penny Wilson
*A bit of fiction here, my friends. All is well. 
I've had trouble lately being inspired to write.  
What comes seems to be dark.
Posted in Life

Summers of My Youth

Sometimes I long for the summers of my youth.  When summer days were endless and Grandpa was my hero, the biggest, strongest man I knew.  I remember days spent sitting on a summer sidewalk with a hammer and a bag of pecans.  Barefoot was the dress code.  Bologna sandwiches and playing in the spinkler on the lawn.  Going to the drive-in with the station wagon loaded with all the neighbor kids.  Brown paper bags of popcorn and falling asleep before the 2nd movie came on.  Being tucked into bed, with a tender kiss on my cheek.   I recall laying on my back on a hillside watching the puffy white clouds and savouring the tiny drops of nectar from the honeysuckle blossoms.  Fireflies in a jar.

Don’t get me wrong, life was hard, damned hard, at times.  But I thank God and my Mom, for beautiful memories like these.

Do you have a favorite Summer Memory?

Thank you for joining me on this journey. Penny

Posted in Poetry

#NaPoWriMo-Day 15-Memories and Wishes

I keep my memories
and wishes
tucked inside a box The vessel unimportant Its what’s inside the box that calls to me Inside I hear the beating of your heart smell your skin and taste your lips you
now on wingtips

left behind memories
nestled beside wishes Copyright © 2021 Penny Wilson
Posted in Life

Makes Me Think of WWII

I usually try to steer clear of political subjects here.  But the state of things, not only in the US, but globally, has got my dander up.  There are so many days now where I just shake my head.  I can’t help but wonder when the insanity of 2020 will end!

I try not to watch too much of the news. But it’s like that car race where they spin out going around that hairpin curve.  You can’t look away.  You must know what happens.  I think as humans, most of us have a Gladiator mindset when it comes to the misery around us.

There’s a lot to be thankful for and I know that.  But what I can’t seem to get past is how divided we are as human beings.  Theory versus science.  Conspiracy theories abound.  Racial differences.  No.  Not just differences, but racial wars.

I’ve always had this… connection with the tragedies of WWII.  I know that sounds weird.  But if you believe in past lives, and I’m open-minded about that, I think I must have lived a past life during World War II.

So many of us, not really being old enough to have been there, tend to romanticize how we United to fight the Nazi party and bring humanity back to those that had suffered the unimaginable horrors that transpired during that terrible time.  We withstood rationing of everything from food to gas.  People gave up many luxuries in the name of the cause.  There were paper drives and rubber drives.  More people grew and preserved their own food.  They did with less, they used it up, wore it out or repaired it, rather than buy new.

There were many sacrifices that the everyday citizen did for the good of the nation.  It was a sense of pride.

But if you really dig deeper into what was happening within the United States at the time, you might come away with a different perspective.

While there was much talk about getting involved in the fight against Germany, there were more than a few that questioned if it was really our place to get involved.  Not only were the Japanese suspect, but the general consensus was that the Jews could not be trusted either.

It wasn’t until the attack at Pearl Harbor, by the Japanese, then a German ally, on our own shores that we decided to join the effort.

With this decision, the then president, Franklin Roosevelt, ordered approximately 120,000 Japanese to be pulled from their homes, their assets frozen, and they were shuttled to internment camps and were held there between the years of 1942 and 1945.  Anyone who was 1/16th Japanese were put into these camps.  The occupants, most of which, were American citizens.

The Nazi party was not the only one to commit atrocities against people. The United States did too.

The point that I’m trying to make here with bringing up World War II, is that we, as human beings, pulled together for a common good.  I just don’t understand why we can’t do that now.  People have enough brains between their ears to figure this out, don’t they??

It tears me up to see such discord in our nation.  Political parties aside, we all need to show that we are the UNITED States of America and stand United.

*Your comments and opinions are welcome.  But if you are going to play in my yard, play nice.  Thank you.  

Copyright (C) 2020 Penny Wilson

 

Posted in Poetry

My Box of Words

My box of words 
is hoarded 
selfishly. 

Choosing and stockpiling 
each one 
carefully. 

I take inventory. 

I tuck them away 
in my little treasure box 
lined with memories 
tears 
and laughter. 

Yesterday's words 
are tinged 
aging and gnarled 
the edges curling. 

Today's words 
fat 
filled with promise. 

Choosing the right ones 
is a challenging 
feat 
not always accomplished 
with elegance. 

Copyright (C) Penny Wilson