Southern Magnolia Desire
by: Ronovan
Some women of the South are called Southern Magnolias
Their smiles are more dazzling than any snow
Foliage gathers round them setting off smiles
All working together to make all the men to desire to know
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-July 05, 2014.
Well I have to say that this is an amazing article. It humbled me in many ways. Everyone visit this link to Brett’s page and Follow him. He’s starting a life as a writer and I have to say that if this article is a beginning, then I am so far behind him that I don’t deserve to have my name mentioned in it. So yes, I say again. Click and read and Follow and also follow him on Twitter as another show of support. @BrettsFuture We all need that little shot of double espresso sometimes.
I sit here in restless repose forcing myself to relax. Mind aflutter, new venture afoot; uncertainty over my standing. In my heart the path is right. But that demon called fear casts a shadow before me.
I reflect upon the week of boldness I have just completed. There are lessons I’ve learned along the way, important reminders to guide my journey. Initial thoughts are important thoughts I tell myself as I struggle with my focus. Why is that I ask? Surely the lessons grow stronger with time, with greater experience? So I sit and contemplate why I feel this way.
Then I realize that these initial thoughts are like espresso, the initial injection in coffee each morning. That first rush after waking as you consider the long day stretched out ahead. You know that the cup you hold in your hand will not get you to the end. But that…
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Confusion of not knowing the Known
by: Ronovan
Is not knowing
Better than never having
Or is it better to have and know
And to have lost it while still knowing
Than to not know if you never have
The experience is a sensation
Of heart and of mind and of soul
But what if you don’t remember
What if you just had to be told
You still don’t know
But you realize it was so
Now you must think on this
To love and lost or not at all
What if you loved and lost
And did not know at all
Which is more painful
Knowing and knowing
Never knowing the known
Or realizing but not knowing
That what you know you don’t know
gettyimages © Original Photo by Marie Hickman
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-July 01, 2014.
The drifting heart lives,
With the breath of happiness,
The heart’s void is filled.
gettyimages © Original Photo by Antagain
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-July 01, 2014.
Church Playground Memories
by: Ronovan
After I came home from the hospital even I knew something was missing, but I didn’t know what. I just felt incomplete somehow. For a person suffering from amnesia that probably doesn’t sound unusual, but this was something that I just knew was missing, I could feel it.
But I only had the feeling when I went to the doctor’s office, or some type of testing. My clothes were laid out for me. I had my wallet, keys (although not allowed to drive), a 10 dollar bill, and a pen. Apparently I always carry a pen.
My belt was in place, all of my clothing was the way it should be. It really bothered me though. I put it down as possibly my not driving. Maybe I just wanted to be the driver since I always drove everywhere. Perhaps I just was not accustomed to being on the passenger side of the car looking around.
Then one day it hit me. There was a burning in my pocket. I noticed each time I left the house, not actually my own house, that my right pants pocket felt lighter than it should. There was a spot that didn’t feel right. Even looking down at my pocket when seated there was something odd about how it appeared.
A flash of yellow came to me. And that made me think of the word, ‘pecan’. I wasn’t able to speak yet but I quickly wrote it down and shoved it toward the driver. She looked at it.
“Do I have a pecan?”
“Yes,” she said.
I held my hands out and shrugged.
“I don’t know where it is,” she said.
I quickly scribbled down my flash.
“Yellow toy box.”
“Yes. I know what you mean, beside your chair.”
A few days later it arrived.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a pecan before. They are oblong and pointy on the ends, but not this one. This one glows and looks like polished wood. When the light hits it there is character and grooves you don’t see in a normal pecan shell.
When I touched it for the first time again, the smoothness of the shell was comforting and familiar. I instantly held it to my ear and shook it. I could hear the rattling inside.
My eyes closed and I ran my finger tips around the shell slowly and could feel the ridges that you normally didn’t realize were there. Maybe they normally weren’t. Then I slipped it into my pocket and the weight was right. My balance was right. Just a few ounces but it was right. When I sat down, the sight was right.
My mind tingled with it with me again.
“For you, Daddy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I found it for you.”
Of course the smile crossed my face and a big hug was given. “Then it goes right here and never leaves,” I said. I slipped it into my pocket. The smile crossed his face.
A pecan as a prized possession may sound a bit odd to some, but six years earlier my little son had walked up to me with a smile from the church playground and given it to me. To him it may have been just a find that day.
The grey shell had turned into polished brown like the finest piece of furniture. But this hadn’t been done by a machine. This had been done by years of being in my hands through the day, and living inside my pocket forever being polished.
Now that I had it back I was more at ease. Every night he comes to me and asks “Do you have your thing?” “Yeah.” “Okay.” He now knows how special it is to me. He knows I remembered it. He knows I know him. He knows I don’t want to lose it.
Some prized possessions may have monetary value to them, even family heirlooms, but for me, a moment of innocence that can never be captured again . . . that’s my prized possession. The pecan is a reminder of it, but the real possession is the memory of it. That’s what I have, that memory. Memories of your children can bring you back to life. That’s what happened to me.
Maybe you have a memory. Perhaps riding along with your child in your lap in a golf cart, or smiling up at you with such love in their eyes at an ice cream parlor, or giggling when you tickle them. Those are prized possessions.
Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites©.wordpress.com-June 27, 2014.
I’ve been Reblogging some of Amanda’s best articles while she’s been on vacation. Best to me from her means funny. One thing about funny people is that they are funny because they are really also sensitive and deep people. I TRY to be funny, but fall flat most of the time.
This is an article that shows Amanda is more than a punch line or laugh track. This great advice. I’m serious. You really do need to read this one.
Unsung Hero: The Stay at Home (And Single) Mom
by: Ronovan
I read an article by my friend Barbie over at B’s Words called Stay at Home Loser. Just when you get caught up in your own world of problems someone smacks you in the face with a world of more of them, and really some that are worse.
Sure I have problems of misconceptions about my health, but Barbie’s article just really brought a subject to mind that just . . . well . . . wow.
I’m going to focus on the Stay at Home Mom here, although this could apply to Stay at Home Dads too. And I don’t intend to take much time as I want you to go read Barbie’s article and get raw honesty on the subject.
What do I see the Stay at Home Mom as being:
• Character builder
• Manners teacher
• Respect teacher
• Human teacher
• Kindness teacher
• Love teacher
• Equality teacher
• Sharing teacher
• Reading teacher
• Writing teacher
• Responsibility teacher
• Safety teacher
• Relationship teacher
• Smile builder
• Laughter builder
• Face making teacher
• Walking teacher
• Riding bike teacher
• Look ways before you cross teacher
• Hold my hand teacher
• It’s okay to be you teacher
• How to forgive teacher
• It’s okay to make mistakes teacher
• Clean up your mess teacher
• How to make a sandwich teacher
• Singing teacher
• Psychiatrist
• TV and media specialist/monitor
• How to hug teacher
• Dietician
There are a lot more things that a Stay at Home Mom is but there are just the ones that quickly came to mind aside from the cleaning things they go through, (Not wanting to think of laundry, dishes, or diapers, thank you very much). I don’t see Loser on the list. These are just my view from the outside.
Please share what some of your definitions of a Stay at Home Mom. But before you answer, go read Barbie’s article and maybe leave your definition there instead. She inspired this article, give her the great words back.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 24, 2014.
I love how upbeat this is and it’s just fun. You can take the message any way you like it. And hey, it’s the ’80s.
The Notebook: A Life Lesson
by: Ronovan
“Hey, Ron, check out that box over there and see what we can get rid of,” said Chet.
I pulled the box to me and began going through the sweaters, magazines and umbrellas. I wondered how people could lose so many things in a church and just not think of what happened to them.
The Bible was beautiful. I opened it and saw the name, Orthel Hopkins. I shook my head. His mother should have been looking for this already. Or maybe he had been hiding something else in his Bible cover so she didn’t know yet. I set it aside and would sneak it to him another time.
Read. The word jumped out at me. It was my hand writing. It looked like one of my notebooks. But why was it here?
“. . . had a great time and posted some fun vacation pictures for you. . .”
“Chet, I’ll be back later.” I didn’t wait for an answer. I only lived minutes away. The car didn’t even have time to cool inside before I was pulling into the driveway. Continue reading
Silver Kisses
by: Ronovan
Moonlight bathes the sea,
With beams of silver kisses,
The night slips away.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 19, 2014.
I had no idea this is how texting worked. It makes you wonder how Amanda knows all of this, doesn’t it? 🙂 I can only imagine poor girl. Muahahahahahaa. She’s going to kill me when she gets back. Follower her on Twitter and surprise her with lots of new people.@AmandaLyle86
Some voices just sound like everyone else. But Steve Winwood is just himself. You know him when you hear him.
Another hilarious but true take on life by Amanda at Inside the Life of Moi. Thank goodness women blog or men would be bored to tears. Follow her on Twitter as well @AmandaLyle86.
Luccia Gray…I cannot believe such a classy and amazingly talented lady would think I was inspiring, but she somehow ended up putting my name on her list. Wow. Definitely go to her site and look around…and learn. Thank you very much Luccia, Ma’am.
And here are the things to know:
1. Thank and link the amazing person(s) who nominated you.
2. List the rules and display the award.
3. Share seven facts about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 other amazing blogs and comment on their posts to let them know they have been nominated.
5. Optional: Proudly display the award logo on your blog and follow the blogger who nominated you.
Seven Facts About Myself:
1) I’m a Gemini. I had to include that because Luccia’s first fact was that she also was a Gemini. If you have ever read any of my offerings you can tell that I am definitely two minds about my writing. I’m polite, courteous and encouraging to others and then destructive to myself and my own writing at the same time.
2) I am a former History teacher who was mainly a World History specialist or so I was told. I took courses in Nazi and Facism as well as two courses on African History and a French Revolution class. Yes I know that Marie Antoinette’s brothers got Louis drunk and had him circumcised. And oddly I took a Bosnian and Serbian class?
3) I have a method of writing that I don’t employ often myself and I really should. I have tried it. I write a scene in detail as far as feel and everything about something I know and then change aspects of it to turn it into fantasy or science fiction or paranormal. I just change the names of things, and a few details, but leave language and how people speak and act toward each other. I’m writing an article on it now.
4) I am fascinated by other cultures. Especially very old cultures. Obviously this is the Historian in me.
5) I love beautiful colors. One of the things I enjoy is watching the birds outside my window at the bird feeders. There all kinds and colors. When that darkness starts creeping into my writing those birds can take it away at times.
6) I am a recent cat lover, or I should say certain cats lover. I love Kitty and Spunky especially. If you snoop around my site you will see them there. Spunky has two siblings but they will be going to other homes eventually so I am trying not to get attached. Although Fluffy, the dark one, is difficult not to want to hold.
7) I had a fall in my home within the past year. I ended up with amnesia, long and short term. I don’t remember 99% of my past but through things I have typed over the past 20 years on my computer I have a lot of notes to read through. I am light and sound sensitive and cannot watch TV, listen to music, or read books. I just write all the time.
Here are my nominees for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award.
I would like to say this. I know there are plenty of other people that should receive this as well and I would put them here, cheating like Luccia did, but if you read number 7 above you know there is a problem sometimes.
MareEastern Great photographs of more than just scenery. I often write a poem inspired by the photograph of the day. She also writes about her love of Scotland and her cats.
Long And Luxe A very positive and always encouraging person. Always has something upbeat to say. She’s groovy. J
Be Led By Reason New to our WordPress community but with a lot of deep feelings to share and some great photography and history of Hawaii as well.
Sober Is The New Black Another new member of the community. This young man is doing something unique here in the WordPress family. He is chronicling his life and a battle. You need to go check it out to see what I’m talking about. Give him a LOT of support. Seriously.
Suzie81Speaks A lot of you know Suzie. She blogs like a mad hatter and has a very professional style. She’s someone you want to check out to see how things are done for the type of blog she does. You’ll enjoy it. Speaks about life and makes it relevant.
Inside The Life Of Moi If you haven’t already visited then the first thing you are going to do is smile. Her header photo is excellent and unique and it is a perfect reflection of her blog style. A slice of life blog in a relevant way. A very, very fun and enjoyable time to be had.
Freebird A very honest blog about very topics but some you get a peek into the life of India. I love the phrasing of the articles which adds authenticity to it all and the culture discovered is something you don’t get just anywhere.
Serins Sphere Very honest reader of your blogs. Writes about life and a lot more. Namibia. I would be shot if I didn’t mention that.
Forgotten Meadows One of the most prolific poets around. An encourager and also one that pulls other poets in to unite a community.
Chapter TK/ A very honest blog. A slice of life blog that expresses opinions but also wants the other side of the story. Wants feed back and wants to really know.
The Fickle Heartbeat Irasia at the site is great to read. Enjoyable and the layouts and photo choices make it an easy for me to look at. This is about relationships. So why do I follow? Writers need to know a lot of things. If you’ve read some of my things every now and then I mention following for inspiration. Sometimes you just need to hear what you know in a different way or hear something new entirely you can play off of.
The Showcase A slice of life from India. Yes, I love the blogs from India. I’ve found there are a more similarities than differences. The style is different than that of thafreebird site.
Lesie’s World The first thing I noticed about this site was the strength of the photo of the owner. I just knew that whatever came out of this person would be something I wanted to read and I was right. Learn a bit of Jamaica from the real thing, but also about everyday things. I just hope you’re ready to read the accent. It’s a blast.
Nubian Waters Enthusiasm. That’s what I get from this site. We all want to blog but this one just puts it out there in real language and heart. Whenever you get that moment of why am I here you can go to this site and remember.
A Blog To Regret Poetry in motion. Variety in style. I look at the picture of the owner and the style of the content matches perfectly. I enjoy it here because it lets me know that my changes in style are okay. I’m nowhere near this level but I know it’s alright to experiment at times.
It would be nice to follow through with the rules above. It allows for connections and recognition for some blogs we might not ordinarily see. That’s up to you individually.
Much Respect
Ronovan
Could of been Cut! one choice-my Life
by: Ronovan
Testify to a travesty that happened from birth
You don’t even know it but you were given worth
All these hooplahs laying down their monkey laws
Let me tell you test tube lovers I ain’t got a tail in my draws
You say kill ‘em and let ‘em just die on the floor
But I say that life is worth the living and the dying for
Am I making a statement of opinion and of my facts
You betcha bottom dollar and I’m not holding any back
The big guy came down and he walked up that hill
He let them lay him down and drive spikes to kill
You think he did that so we could throw it all away
No, uh uh, not to my way of thinking no way
I was unintentional at 17 and a decision was made
Fruit picking in the groves near the everglades
I should of could of and would of been cut
But something spoke out and said no, that’s enough
Wait a minute, you ain’t got a right to say nothin’
Your body ain’t the one made for this discussion
I know what I know and I say what I love
And what I do know is…God gave life from above.
Respect for you and Your Choices
As I wish for you to have for Me and Mine
Much Love
Ronovan
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 11, 2014.
Brown Eyes
by: Ronovan
Sweetness of Maple Gold
Richer than any money
The depths of the soul
Reflected in Amber Honey
The Blues and Greens
They have all been written
Epic love stories and poems
And battles by men smitten
For me I say no
I am trapped in your deep
That mysterious depth
That liquid mahogany of your keep
Eyes the shade to see my smile
Not lost in the hues of skies and seas
The beauties of the world
Have eyes such as these
Who is the first brown eyes many men my age or older fell in love with? Yes, Audrey Hepburn.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 10, 2014.
No Surprise Amazing Grace
by: Ronovan
I close my eyes
To see your face
No surprise
I hear Amazing Grace
How sweet the sound
Of your love
Reigning down
On me
More of my lyrics I found from long ago.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-May 07, 2014.
Love Letter Found
by: Ronovan
I would give it now,
If only you could be found,
Other than in tears.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 06, 2014.
My Teacher
by: Ronovan
Who would I want to teach me on any given topic?
Jesus and love of others without fail.
The Word of God has been misused through the centuries for man’s purposes and has marred the truth of it. Man’s traditions have twisted the true meaning of the teaching of Jesus and become part of denominational divisions.
I attempt to love everyone regardless of everything. What they do is not what God meant for them to be. I understand that and try to push those actions away. It’s difficult sometimes.
Jesus does teach me through his words and even his actions about love, but it would be magnificent to be in his presence and hear those words spoken and see the actions. I’m a historian by education and training thus this prompt brings out so many facets that I churn inside.
I will leave it there. Jesus and love, that’s who I want and the subject.
From The Daily Post prompt today.
No image for this one. I think for obvious reasons.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 06, 2014.
There is a slight change in pressure as I step off the elevator. If the roar and whipping wind along the corridor does not given away the truth of what lay ahead, the white remnants of the day along the floor does.
The breeze whips around the corner of the passageway and the hours and miles of driving begins to melt away. Some say they can smell the air, but for me it is the feel of it, reaching for me, and wrapping around me—welcoming arms pulling me onward.
I turn the corner and see the palm trees sway and the rise of sand hiding what I have been aching for these long months. My pace quickens toward what is there at any pace I chose. It has been waiting for me for a long time. She is ever patient.
The smile spreads across my face and the yearlong pent up stress escapes. The metal gate clangs shut behind me, the final barrier between the two of us. I hurry along the tiled pool area of the hotel toward the wooden steps leading to my sandy salvation.
My sandals slide with a slight and reassuring twist on the wooden steps. Proof I am on the right path. Then I see her, moonlit rolling surf on her way to meet me, and calling me. “Hurry, it’s been too long.”
I slip off the leather that separates my feet from the cool sand. Each particle massages muscles that ache from too long without her touch. I ease my way forward. The breeze moves my shirt and blows in my ear like a lover that one wishes they had. Happiness is within reach, my feet step onto surf pounded sand, damp from millennia old waters.
The roar in my ears is like a lullaby drowning out all other sounds, or like the call of rejoice of one to another at a much longed for embrace. Perhaps that is why I love her so. She covers me with the first touch. Gentle, warm fingers wrap around my legs and urge me onward.
I walk a few more steps, close my eyes, and feel the sand wash away as I begin to sink into her. With each grain of sand and each retreating surf, another negative memory drifts away. Another glowing thought enters.
My shoulders slump, tension releases, muscles tremble. Yes.
Some love the sound of music to relieve their life, some a massage, and some art. For me the music of the surf, the massage of sand sifting and the art of the moon on the waves take it all away. Lovers come and go, but for me the ocean always returns and welcomes me whenever I need her.
“Welcome home, Ronovan, I’ve missed you.” I open my eyes, and see the moon on the waves and let the rhythm drift me away.
© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 03, 2014.
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