Poems and Ponderings

For years I bemoaned the fact that I was not given the gift of a daughter. Don't get me wrong, I love both my sons and would not trade them for anything in the world! But I guess like every man wishes for a son I wished for a daughter. Someone I could pass my knowledge, everything I inherited from my mom, the good and the not so good... I love cooking, baking, decorating, frills and laces, the colour pink, dancing in the rain, listening to the thunderstorm, be mad and silly and everything that makes a woman... yet it was not to be. Today, whilst cleaning my studio,  I had  an epiphany, a light bulb went on... During my years of teaching I had so many daughters, sisters, mothers attending my classes. I had my sons girlfriends, and other beautiful young girls who grew up to be such beautiful young women, and all of them hold very special places in my heart! Every one was so very special and the one or other might even continue spreading a little part of me! What more can I ask

I can't believe it has been over a year since my last  post. Truth to be told I did not even write much... Sometimes I would take my book and pen and sat there and started scribbling and merely ended up with some diary style writing, not what I wanted. But what did I want to write about? I don't know... there are many stories I felt needed to be told and yet, who cares? Does anyone care if the stories were written, I don't think so... So back again, why write? For the past few years my little black book was my confidant, my best friend,  my soul speaking, my safety net, my tears, my tantrums, my thoughts and prayers and sometimes the only way to keep on going....! So now after every tear had been shed, every prayer had been prayed there is this emptiness, nothing more needed to be said, it is all there in my little black books; so you see writing was therapy for me.  I needed to write in order to heal and bring perspective back into my life..  And still I have