~ Broken Winged Child~ Daddy smiled and called me his ‘Broken Winged Child’… I hear his smile from a distance as I let go of his strong hand. Eyes, looking back on him, reflecting what he wanted to see…and what I was to be; a Broken Winged Child. He tells me I live in a place that people left a long time ago, with … Read More ~ Broken Winged Child ~
~ She walks upon ground, ancient loam with secret life buried, returning unto her. Her thought lullaby moves and dances to form; What she cannot speak. The forest will hold this sacred alliance until flame fire untie. An eve as sweet as clove, bathed in moon and silent wind- She will go before me, through the dark forest, with the guardians of night… ~ … Read More Autumn People and Halloween in the Country
A stirring of rust colored leaves rise ethereal with clay dust, as the girl child dances under the hazy sun of the afternoon heat. Not yet an Angel gold dipped in sin and prayer; her tinkling laughter is matched by the cicada drone that beats with hypnotic fervor. He rocks back and forth, ceremoniously on the old porch, with solemn and careful watching. The … Read More Dreams From The Wood Porch
Do we keep some of the sweetest things hidden in a dark place, for fear of losing the rich memory of intimacy; or are we just afraid…
The moments I speak of now are carved deep within the child I once was. The breath of my soul, fearless in the path of the great mystery, I stood proud, in the place of my time; in the place of my knowing. I am Lucinda Mae. I was born and raised in Dusty Spirit Springs; an old mining town encroached upon the forest … Read More Do we keep some of the sweetest things hidden in a dark place, for fear of losing the rich memory of intimacy; or are we just afraid…
~ In the sun’s shadows, is where my story lives, in Iron Forest Town; an old town, of old trees and ‘older ways’ ~
In the sun’s shadows, is where my story lives, in Iron Forest Town; an old town, of old trees and ‘older ways’. One dusty, long ribbon of a road, was the only road that lead to Iron Forest. A place where kindred and townsfolk alike, knew how to weave a story; knew how to keep secrets hidden; A place where the days always feel more than … Read More ~ In the sun’s shadows, is where my story lives, in Iron Forest Town; an old town, of old trees and ‘older ways’ ~
~Do we keep some of the sweetest things, hidden in a dark place for fear of losing the rich memory of intimacy; or are we just afraid?
~ I live with my Father, Magnus. Like his Father before him, he is a miner, woodsman, master hunter and my protector; always watching but has a suffering allowance for my independent and curious nature. Father, lighting his pipe, sits with me on our large, southern wood porch every evening I can recall, since I was a girl child. His stories weave … Read More ~Do we keep some of the sweetest things, hidden in a dark place for fear of losing the rich memory of intimacy; or are we just afraid?
To my Father; to all the men we have known who have protected, nurtured and taught us with love & guidance…
My Father, Michael Douglas Flannery, I remember with great fondness and love. He was a quiet, strong and patient man who gave me a sense of security as a child. I admired his patience and passion for the things he loved to do and people he loved to share his time with. He was a quiet man and as a child, when I would look up at him, his … Read More To my Father; to all the men we have known who have protected, nurtured and taught us with love & guidance…
The earthy Pioneer country people, their homes and churches, the surrounding sinkholes and caves and the beautiful Joppa escarpment is what helped create the area and National Park we know as Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. There once were 13 churches in this region now there are two left here in the Mammoth Cave area. Joppa Missionary Church and Cemetery, circa 1862, is one of the historical … Read More Historic Joppa Church and Haunting Tales near Mammoth Cave, Kentucky
~A Summer’s Dream~ The Cicada buzz mounts to a vibratory fury and descends swift, as I watch the mist settle upon the summer fields. Bull thistle has gone to seed among the barn; white flurries dance, softly, upon the electric aether, before the storm. I wander a lush and timeless countryside, where feathery mimosa trees blossom, in their sweet sugared fragrance, cooked by a fiery … Read More ~A Summer’s Dream~
‘Lady of the Woods’ Shimmering ashes and silvered cloth, drape long and smooth, Like a slow fog that whispers over the forest path, to adorn the Lady of the Woods. As the sun lies down before her, a glory of mist in the smoky heaven; the very breath of Angels of the winter land. Her lullaby… shattered crystals, that resonate bright upon the … Read More ‘Lady of the Woods’