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    Headstall
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2020- Spring - Full Moon Entry

Mother Moon's Message in Troubled Times - 1. Chapter 1 Moon Worship

Just a little bit of poetry for the anthology.

                                                                                                                                                  ***

 

Mother Moon’s Message in Troubled Times

 

 

The reflected orb on the rippling surface

Reminds me of earrings my mother wore

Mother of pearl discs on silver-looped chain

Flashing like opaque clouds over white light

 

She would wear them when she was happy

Along with her goldfinch yellow mini-dress

It was the one I cajoled her into buying

And she ended up loving it… I knew she would

 

It’s funny, the things that strike out of the blue

Like Eddie Arnold’s “Welcome to My World”

A song she would listen to when she was sad

She played it often… so much the vinyl wore out

 

Better days were ahead, and some that weren’t

And she bent so many times, I feared she would break

But she didn’t, and that was her biggest lesson to me

She never gave in because she was needed… and so am I

 

 

 

Moon Worship

 

Standing alone in the grass

You bathe me in comfort

And I take a calming breath

I am but a tiny speck of life

But I believe you see me

 

I can speak of my fears… my losses

And my joys… each new birth

Yet your silence is my balm

You shrink and dim as you travel

But you are always there… a constant

 

You bear witness to a life

Of a simply complicated man

And light the dark that can consume

Lending your timeless presence

And an unearthly visage to confess to

 

In that, you are my chosen religion

You and your beaming counterpart

For unlike man-made altars

And pious men who spout ignorance

You have never let me down

 

*

Thanks for reading, and a shout out to my mother, who I miss every day. May peace be yours, Mom.
Copyright © 2020 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2020- Spring - Full Moon Entry

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Mothers are a strange mix of emotions for most of us, boys in particular.  I think only time can sort some of those feelings out for us...when we were little, we enjoyed the warmth and security we got from being held; as we grew older we felt somehow limited by those same feelings, like they were holding us back, but at times even then we needed that reassurance.  It was once we became teens and then young adults going out on our own that we felt free...but how often did we wish to experience that warmth one more time deep in our hearts?
How often did we feel trapped by a call to hear her ask what we were up to, and how we were doing, then hasten the call to go join friends?
Only once those calls have ceased because Time has taken that loved one from us do we remember those calls with a mix of joy and regret for not having had them go on longer, or more often.  I spoke to my mother almost every day until she died, and visited her as often as I could, yet it seemed not enough when she was finally gone.
We had no set place or event that brought us together, but every moment was one we bonded over and shared, at her house, walking in a park, or visiting relatives.  And yet, it's the feeling of her arms and love that springs to mind when I think of her, going back to a time when we watched a late monster movie when I was ten and she made popcorn for us.
Even now, thirteen years on, I will get an urge to call her and mention something I saw or heard that day that she would have enjoyed too...then I remember, and my day loses some of that sparkle it held until that moment. 

Thanks G-Man for this wonderful image of your own mother.  Hugs and kisses, my friend.  I wish they were from your mother, but a friend's may help anyway. 

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14 hours ago, dughlas said:

A lovely remembrance of the woman your mother was. Thanks for again sharing your memories of her.

You speak to the moon, I go to the sea ...

Thanks, bro. She was a lovely woman, and a strong one. I miss her every day. 

I think many of us speak to the natural world and the celestial heavens. Whether it's the sun or the moon or the sea or the forests, it gives us solace. Being able to pour out feelings or calm our minds is a universal need. I don't need organized religion or a belief in doctrine in order to pray. :hug: 

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6 hours ago, ColumbusGuy said:

Mothers are a strange mix of emotions for most of us, boys in particular.  I think only time can sort some of those feelings out for us...when we were little, we enjoyed the warmth and security we got from being held; as we grew older we felt somehow limited by those same feelings, like they were holding us back, but at times even then we needed that reassurance.  It was once we became teens and then young adults going out on our own that we felt free...but how often did we wish to experience that warmth one more time deep in our hearts?
How often did we feel trapped by a call to hear her ask what we were up to, and how we were doing, then hasten the call to go join friends?
Only once those calls have ceased because Time has taken that loved one from us do we remember those calls with a mix of joy and regret for not having had them go on longer, or more often.  I spoke to my mother almost every day until she died, and visited her as often as I could, yet it seemed not enough when she was finally gone.
We had no set place or event that brought us together, but every moment was one we bonded over and shared, at her house, walking in a park, or visiting relatives.  And yet, it's the feeling of her arms and love that springs to mind when I think of her, going back to a time when we watched a late monster movie when I was ten and she made popcorn for us.
Even now, thirteen years on, I will get an urge to call her and mention something I saw or heard that day that she would have enjoyed too...then I remember, and my day loses some of that sparkle it held until that moment. 

Thanks G-Man for this wonderful image of your own mother.  Hugs and kisses, my friend.  I wish they were from your mother, but a friend's may help anyway. 

Yes, relationships with our moms can travel along rocky roads at times, but when it comes right down to it, a mother's love is one of the strongest things I've ever encountered. I had those hurried calls too, my friend, and what I wouldn't give to be able to pick up the phone now. I know too about that lost sparkle. We can talk to them still, but it's not the same. I always appreciate the hugs and kisses from you. :hug: 

  • Love 2
36 minutes ago, Defiance19 said:

These are beautiful, Gary. It’s nice to have poetry in the anthology, and as always your words convey such wonderful imagery.  Like mom’s moon earrings. 
Thank you. 
 

Hey, Def! I've missed you! Hope all is well in this crazy time. Yeah, I wanted to see poetry in the anthology too, so I wrote some. :)  I can picture my mother wearing those earrings (they did look like moons) and that yellow dress, just after she found out she was pregnant with my kid sister... she was so happy... after having gone through a dark period. 

I'm so pleased you liked these, my friend... cheers , and stay safe... Gary.... :hug: 

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Please accept my belated response, but I found these two poems to be beautifully written, Gary.  The tribute to your mother is stunning and almost makes me feel as if I knew your mother.  At least I got a brief glimpse of her from the descriptions you provided.  The second poem wonderful and heartfelt homage to the moon, something which I think all too many of us simply ignore or just take for granted.  Well done.  

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44 minutes ago, Bill W said:

Please accept my belated response, but I found these two poems to be beautifully written, Gary.  The tribute to your mother is stunning and almost makes me feel as if I knew your mother.  At least I got a brief glimpse of her from the descriptions you provided.  The second poem wonderful and heartfelt homage to the moon, something which I think all too many of us simply ignore or just take for granted.  Well done.  

Glad you liked these, Bill. I've been stuck in the house for two weeks battling a truly brutal chest cold, so there has been no talking to the moon. Every night at my mare's third feeding, I would always look up at the skies for a few minutes... it would give me such peace as I listened to her chew her grain... but my horse is gone now, after almost thirty-one years of life. The sound of her chewing is gone, but the moon is still there for when I'm up and about. :) 

My mom was a wonderful, strong, flawed woman, and I miss her deeply. Thanks for checking these out, my friend. :hug:  

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