http://slow.writerscafe.org/broodyhen2003 The original writings of author Patricia B. Hepler en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776137226 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Shuttered behind dreams divine, the hidden soul lurking behindeyelids, which completely blocked their view, most unkind.  To those who already know still fear that feeling, tattered.What we dread is the feeling of being shattered. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1027177/ I grieve not for me, I grieve for thee.I miss my child Drew, he who, into a strong young man, grew,He, who slumbered dreamless, his tiny family, clueless.Throes of grief still languish, my soul still seeps deep in anguish~ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1022949/  Clouds angry and darkWaiting for their chance to impartVolumes of rain to wash out our painAnd leave our memories washed stark.   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1022182/ Nanny, unknown to her youngest grandchildWas the daughter of an Irish born womanSpoke frequently words in rhyme. Her biggest admirer, not of her bloodhonored her posthumously.His kind words spoken in awe introduced my nanny to me,In ways I never would known.his.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1022174/ After the sun went down, weary from working the earthHe knew the cost of his sweat and his toilWas more than the old farm was worth. Descendants he never knew, who lived and left,had admired his most enduring work-Rotting logs with no more heft are now just&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1021435/ Magnificient it was, in stature-Its' crafter's calloused hands long gone.Continually standing guard in the pasturewhere it stands alone and forlorn. Beyond weathered, worn out and tatteredas storms have taken their damaging toll.I can't believe it n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1018949/ What if our words were floating in the airAs balloons that we could all share.Choose this one or reach for that oneOr get them all if we dare. We could gather our thoughts with only a stringand decide which ones could make our hearts singOr turn them all loose,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1017874/ Our grandmothers rescued us as often as they couldNot enough, not enough, not enough as they should-Numerous ways of abuse, it doesn't have to be a  particular wayEndured by each child, each day. You can harm a soul, you can harm a mind, How rude of people of your own kind.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1017856/ The preacher, mother and fatherEating Sunday dinner6 children, hungry, waiting their turnWhen the 6 yr old asks as the adults leave the table"Daddy, when can we eat?"The father's eyes widened in horrible rageas he told the little boy to leave-The preacher left and d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1017019/ Yappy puppy full of joyHe is my little boyHe jumps & hopsWhen tired, he stops. He runs as fast as lightningWith Luxy he will play fighting Momo and Luxy stop and restReally good friends- the best. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1017015/ While listening to words on the newsWhen the announcer says here comes her viewsOn why the price of gas is climbing again.And it's not for oil companies gain "Our economy is going real strongThings are coming right alongSInce our economy's growingYou can afford our inf.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1016701/ This land is not my landI love the land as mine.Acres as far as the eye can seeBelongs to his family not mine. I married the son of the oneswho worked this farm years deepGenerations before he and I were-I'm softly in eternal sleep. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1015685/ Shining, swirling, smokingHandmade smoke toking-Pain- under- simmeringSoulful eyes glistening. This is life? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1015678/ A single flame hovering overheadWax dripping down her shaved head.Searing pain worn with a smileShe hadn't endured this in a while. For pain is just a state of mindSome need to feel this to findWhether or not she is alive or deadShe never has felt such dread.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1015675/ The ongoing debate, the hot topic for newsIs for Gay Marriage Rights and more.This debate is not mine to mull over or museIt's none of my business, it's yours. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1014722/ Anger. Danger.Pain. Agony.I'm afraid for me. We talk, we argueMisunderstand.This is more than I can stand. Turmoil. Stress.Wordless stareWhy do I even care? We loved each otherjust days agoJust where did 'us' go? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1014714/ Our dog is small and yappyHe's really our little boyHe barks when he is happyHe is so full of joy. Any one can own a dogas long as you're not allergicI would like to own a hogBut they are so lethurgic.. I collect chicken breedsThey're facinating to viewTheir eg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013689/ Some use pen and paperSome use typer-writersI like my words, to savorand then use my computer-writer. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013673/ To hit them with, a tobacco stickFather's fury seethingA child is confused, a child is sickYet no DSS meeting. Barefeet children everywherehanging around the yardWaiting to work somewhereLife for them is too hard. Farmer children, poor .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013666/ Fists, foot, sticks, bootBelts, cords, rocks, words..Rage erupts. Father, mother, sister, brotherNo one safe from one another.Rage erupts. Children grown, kids of their ownGrandparents say no abuse at home.Rage erupts. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013133/ Paper, ribbons, bows and moreHave I bought out every store? Checked my list, spent my cash,Where did I put those gifts I stashed? Cards for friends, gifts for babies,Am I finished?  Maybe....copyright pbh 2011 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013077/ Quilt scraps, yarn tooPieced togethermake something newto keep forever years from nowreminds someoneof howthings were done  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013076/ What do they see when they look at meWhy do they scream and shoutIs it because they don't like meWhat is their drama about? What do I see when I look at meI can't see why they scream and shoutIs it because they don't like meWhat is their drama about? I see a little kid .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1013074/ Another era of time has gone.Children grown and on their own~The era of soccer games and school playsHave been exchanged for longer working days.Carefree summer days gone by-Sometimes we both just sit & cry.Once upon a time long gone,Our children were safe & sound at home... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012853/ As the eagle soars over the lofty peakI am left to cry.His destiny he will seekFrom somewhere, in the sky. He knows he has to leave her now,His time on Earth is over.He sees the pain upon her browand knows he'll always love her. As he drifts on currents up aboveOn his.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012763/ The thick black smoke billowed upOver the deep orange flames, twisting.The men and women stood expectantlyas the rain was softly misting. As they stood there waitingfor the command to be given-They had a chance to reflectOn why they seemed to be driven To this place.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012760/ We are but the bridgefor the next generation to rest.That weight is sometimes unbearable, yeteach in turn will seek the best.copyright 2011 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012755/ Spring, summer, fall and winterAre seasons of a year.Our grief is so much like those seasonsExcept they always leave a tear On our damp cheeks, as we all seekRelief from all of our pain-Dear son, we miss you very much,And want to see you again! Spring brings forth n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012752/ The old man sat at the table eating,Chewing his food carefully.His thoughts drifted back through his life,As he sadly nodded off to sleep. In his slumber, he relived many a memoryOf childhood-his formative years;He could see his mother’s face,He even felt her loving embrac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012748/ Her face, etched with wrinkles deepStoic was her stance.Relaxed, at peace in her sleepDreaming of her dance. Years are quickly spentTime goes flying by-No one knows where she wentUntil they hear her sigh. Grandma loved each oneThat stood with love indeed.The silent .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012685/ Can you smell this?Can you bottle the smell of one you know so well~and save it for another day? copyright Aug 2010 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012684/ I dreamed a poem last night,One of eagles in flight.The eagles were soaring overhead,Looking for a place to bed. One by one, silent they grewThey became aware of something new-Mourners standing close to where no flowers grew~ Soon the flag was saluted, folded and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012683/ Life can be what you choose,Win today-tomorrow you lose.Choices in our lives we makeThat's the chance we must take.Team players we all can beFamily, friends, or you & me.Cooperation is the keyIn your search to be free.Now is the time to realize thisOr far too soon, this lif.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012681/ Weary, tired.My heart is full of pain and grief,do not know when I'll have relief.Weary. Tired.Family scattered to the windsWhen will all this pain end?Weary, tired.Fatigue, pain and always sore-Each tomorrow brings this and more.Weary, tired.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012678/ Grandpa, tell me about the good old daysDid you work?  Did you play?Just what did you do all day?Did you catch lightning bugs and save them in a jar?Is it true that you never knewwhat is was like to ride in a car?Where's the creek that you did seekcool relief from pl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012677/ All the children, keeping quietNot a sound they make.Always, alone, by themselves…A silence they cannot break. To tell someone - ANYONE-Who hasn’t tasted fear ---They cannot comprehendA single word they hear. For, to tell someone- ANYONE-To open up i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/broodyhen2003/1012501/