Feb. 03 - These Are The Things Women Know About Love

That it can come up gently behind
and wrap its arms around you.
Love can surprise and delight,
it can press you up against
a wall in a passionate kiss.
Women also know love can
cause you to weep, its tender
longing nearly impossible to bear.
It can cut open your vulnerable soul
leaving a raw and throbbing pain
at the base of your throat.
Women know love can make you
blush and smile a fool's grin, it can
make you whisper sweet honey
filled words under a summer moon.
But most importantly, what
women know about love is that
it should be nurtured and fed,
allowed to ripen into the soft
bodied fruit that only grows from
the seed of commitment.
It is comfort when passion is
sleeping, it is quiet company
at the end of the day.
Love holds your hand
when you are ill, forgives you
when you forget to stop for milk.
Love touches you softly on your
cheek when you need consoling.
Women know love, true love
never leaves your side.
It grows and changes from
the raging river of desire to
a deep calm you can swim in.

Feb. 02 - Find Your Way in A City

Feb. 01 - Write About A Kiss

artschoollovers by darcyadelaide

The first tender kiss a girl
receives from a boy is
the one she carries with her
the rest of her life,
tucked into a special pocket
of her heart and imprinted with
the last of her childhood innocence.
She remembers the fluttering
inside her body, the rise of
foreign passions,
the look in his eyes before
he bends forward to bring
his lips to hers.
When their lips touch
she feels a pain in her heart
that tells her
she will never be the same.
She closes her eyes and walks
through the doorway of desire,
taking her first step toward womanhood.

Jan. 31 - "The first time I wore ____"

The Meaning of Flowers And The Color of Love

The first time, I wore white, the color of pureness and innocence expected of a new bride. I wore my future mother-in-law's old fashioned dress, though it was too large for my small busted form. No matter how much I stuffed and pinned, I could never fit that dress. The dress was someone else's expectations of me and that will always lead to disappointment.

The second time I searched my closet for the one dress I felt pretty wearing, a simple knee length sun dress that was of no one else's choosing and fit me perfectly. With premonition, as if my soul already feared he would someday leave me to mourn the loss of his love, I wore the color of death and funerals. I wasn't superstitious and I was in love.

I will pay attention to color and fit the third time. I will wear a dress the color of faith and trust. I will carry a bouquet of peonies symbolizing a joyful marriage, violets for faithfulness, and lily of the valley for the return of happiness. I will be superstitious and look for meaning in everything.

Jan. 30 - Write About A Forbidden Activity

Jan. 29 - The End of the Day

In the morning
the demands of the day
pull and stretch
the threads that hold
our family together.

We go our separate ways
dispersing to the east,
the west, and south,  to
our prospective duties
as citizens of this world.

But when the day
is content we've met
our obligations to it,
those threads pull us
back to safety.

For these aren't threads
that imprison us,
but a bond of the heart,
a cozy blanket to wrap
ourselves in at the end of the day.

A Note About the Blank Posts :)

Due to illness, mine own and my little one's, working, job hunting, and just life in general I have fallen behind on the blog. However, I want the posts to show up in chronological order according to the book, so please be patient with the blank posts. I intend to go back and fill them in!

Jan. 28 - Write About "the sky you where born under" (after Joy Harjo)

Jan. 27 - Write About A Used Car

By the time she was hauled off, that old gray car had logged many miles zig-zagging across the country. There were two trips from Washington to Ohio and back with two little girls, trunk loaded with clothes, food, and camping gear. One night on the road, weary and ready to find a place to stop, we ventured into Dinosaur National Monument on the Colorado side and followed the signs to a camp ground nestled in a little canyon. On our drive back out of the canyon the next day, I was slightly alarmed at the thin, bumpy road we'd traveled in the dark and the severe cliffs that sometimes hugged the little road. As we rose out of the canyon and back onto the main road we noticed a large park sign that read "Passenger Cars Not Advised".

That same car carried a newborn baby boy home from the hospital one late July day in 1999. The back seat was adorned with melted crayon from young artists who forgot to gather supplies from a hot car ride and a piece of string tied with a permanent knot hung from the hook over the right passenger door. It gave transportation to two restless girls, a wailing baby, and a gaggle of pill bugs that one little girl insisted make the move from Washington to Texas and unfortunately died along the way. The car came with me after the divorce. She would be loaded up many more times with tents and camping gear, make a few trips from Texas to Ohio, and many trips from San Antonio to Austin and back. By the time she'd been run to her limits a deep history had been worn into her upholstery. The driver's seat had begun to sag and rip and her engine sounded rough.

It is no wonder we can become attached to our cars and even name them. They carry us through life on air filled tires as documentation to our adventures, a mobile time capsule of our lives. Our stories are written with every turn of the odometer. And so it was with great sadness I watched her old gray form get towed off to the salvage yard. I said a little thank you for all the dependable years she gave us and watched as the tow truck turned the corner and disappeared.

Jan. 26 - Describe the Contents of Someone's Closet

Jan. 25 - Shadows

It's odd how we fear
something we can run
our fingers through
as easily as the light
that creates it.

Without shadows,
there would be no
depth to our souls,
no place to retreat
from the glaring light.

I will not fear
my shadows, for they
dance with the light
in a beautiful waltz
that is my life.

They are my tears,
moody days, angry words
spoken a little too loudly,
but  without them my smile
would be worth nothing.

Jan. 24 - Write About Leaving

Jan. 23 - Write A Love Letter. To Anyone.