Blue Stockings

Dear Readers,
I am sorry to announce that I have already kissed 19, therefore, this blog has officially come to an end. This year of blogging has been a fun and a productive one to say the least. I thank everyone of you who journeyed with me through life's many winding paths.

Even though I am now nineteen, i will still be actively blogging on a blog called blue stockings. Please continue reading there.

Here's the Link: http://bluestockingswren.blogspot.com/

Thank you!

Monday Malarkey #8: My Grandfather's Beach

My Grandfather’s beach

On these dunes of sage beach grass

Lingers whispers of the past

The melodic waves move in a dance

and I am instantly entranced.

This is where the old man tread

On weary feet with a heart of dread.

In my memory he’s a softened glow

But as I walk on these shores it grows

his caramel breath dances on me like dew

and I think, his loud gruff laugh is overdue

“Come sit on my lap”, he used to say

And then I knew I was there to stay.

A lady walks in the distance

coming towards me with some insistence.

“Where’s the old man with the cocked hat?

I cannot seem to find his tracks.”

“There is bad news to tell, I fear

He died in his bed last year.”

Of all his memories I seem to dwell

And wonder at all those bitter farewells

His young heart beat with restless capacity

So he joined the war with much alacrity

He wanted to escape his bitter past

And cling to something he could grasp

He went into winter, then summer and fall

Thinking life was nothing special at all.

Until he found his one true love

she was a gift from up above

The wedding bells chimed with fevered bliss

And on his heart there laid a kiss

He vowed to hold her till the tomb

Their love was much like the pureness of the moon.

As the years passed his family grew

But his bitter heart did not stay true

And he left his rosy cheeked delight

like a thief in the night

Not long after, she grew ill

He felt he had a duty to fulfill

And so he stayed by her side

A last endeavor for a husband to provide

In my flesh and my bones

I know his heart was not of stone

In his soul he must have died

and every fiber of his being cried

she was a fire burning bright

leaving the world and out of sight.

Through the flowers and the rain

laid her grave, with her name engrained

His face grew pale

His eyes went stale

but through his mouth came no cry

not even to whisper his last goodbye

Now comes the saddest part

the hardening of the old man’s heart

Into ashes went all her kisses

and into dust went all her wishes

many men walked by her grave

and said “I remember all she gave,”

“indeed she had a fair face

walked in beauty and in grace.”

Her husband did not indeed deserve her

now he walks in waves on yonder

That is where the old man treads

On weary feet, with a heart of dread.

Monday Malarkey #7: Consumerism

I look in the mirror and see a girl slightly awkward; legs like sticks and a body lacking shape. What is the price of acceptance? I grab my coat and purse and head to the store, looking for ways to feel better. As I walk down each isle, I cannot help but notice the lights glaring uninvitingly down on me. My ears fill with the sound of the old eighties music that plays softly in the back-round. I reach the make-up isle and cannot help but feel like I am picking a new mask. I try on different colors hoping that one will make me stand out. All I want is to be beautiful. In the check-out line I glance at the cover of Cosmopolitan. The girl on it is wearing a small red dress. She is flawless with her curls lightly brushing her golden shoulders. I suddenly look to my make-up products and silently wish they were a magic potion – making me just as stunning as the girl on the magazine cover.

Now I am walking through the Apple store. The phones and computers lay in brightly lit cases. I look over my shoulder and watch as a salesman dressed in khaki pants wearing a big white smile comes over to me and says, “Can I help you with anything ma’am?”. I shake my head no because I somehow feel exposed. Somehow he knows my bank balance and that I couldn’t possibly afford anything in the store. I look longingly at all the gadgets, thinking that if I just had a nice phone my life would be so much better.

America. This is my America.

Monday Malarkey #6: Washington Crossing the Delaware

Washington stands at the front of the bow like a mighty lion gazing towards his kingdom. The cold wind whips through us like ice; even my bones feel chilled. Some men cough, some grumble. The days stretch on like this: rowing and rocking in the boat. Gunshots roar a deafening pitch and the sound of the flag cracking like a whip rings in my swollen ears. My lungs heave and I taste the hue of blood pooling in my saliva. The scent of death follows us, even haunts us in our sleep. “What are we fighting for?” I ask myself. The man standing beside Washington is holding the flag. His hands must be cold from clenching the rod.

I glance at Washington again. He stands confidently, his body erect on the side of the boat. His gaze is intently looking toward the morning light; toward land. He confuses me, because although his men grow weary and tired, he shows no sign of defeat. And I think to myself “This is what I’m fighting for; a land of freedom, not of fear.”

Monday Malarkey #5: Better

Tonight i had a wave of emotion hit me. So i decided to do what i know how to do best when my emotions run wild; write. So here you go, this is this Monday's Malarkey. It's definitely a stream of conscious poem. Enjoy!

Better

Post on ecollege by Monday the 17^th

I put my hands wearily over my eyes

 My body flashed heat and my eyes flooded with tears

Today is Monday and it’s too late

 My breath comes out in a staccato motion

 I’m just waiting to be better

 I’m just waiting to not be so clumsy and forgetful

 I am just waiting to be saved. A damsel in distress

I call out.No one comes.

I swear I was born on better days

Monday Malarkey #4: I am a pilgrim and this is my progress

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart."

~Helen Keller

 As I stood at the bottom of the mountain in the cool morning air as crisp and sharp as ice, I thought of the golden aspens that quivered in the sunshine. At first everyone was laughing and chattering about being up at six to climb a mountain. But as the trail got more narrow and the path more steep, our words eluded us.We climbed like the sleepy sun that rose with us. Some quit early complaining that the mountain was too steep and the air too cold. But i willed my legs to keep moving, pleading the sun to relieve me of the darkness.

I got most of the way up when i stopped. The sun's beams were peaking over the horizon now. It had been a straight up climb for the last twenty minutes and I stopped on a ledge with some others. The view was fantastic. Mountains lined the horizon and trees grew like a mold on the land. My friend looked down the mountain at the steep rocky terrain that lay below us and told me she was going to head back down. I looked at the cross on the top of the mountain and feeling the heaviness in my chest, I agreed to go back down with her. Then i heard a sweet voice.

  It was honey to my senses but now it was firm. Not harsh or mean, but firm. It was God's voice and he said My beloved, this is a symbol of your spiritual journey. Are you going to quit early or are you going to go all the way with me to reach the cross? I felt my heart leap in my chest and a smile crept on my face. "I'm going up" i announced.

The mountain got steeper and everywhere i stepped the dirt crumbled beneath my feet. I grew weary but kept my eyes on the cross and my mind on the sweetness of the Lord. It took me a while to navigate my way up to the top, but when i did i used my last bit of energy to hoist myself onto the rocks where the cross lay. "I made it" I thought. The sun was now a bright shining beacon on the horizon. I noticed garments laying on the cross and slipped the African bracelet that I wore on the cross as my contribution. The bracelet, that symbolizes my love for Africa and how God used me, a sinner, for his divine glory. This was all i had to offer him, but somehow I knew it was enough.

Thanks for reading, I post a new blog every Monday!!