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Musings of a Wannabe Poet

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? Poetry For A January Morning.

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Musings of a Wannabe Poet | musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com Reviews
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Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? Poetry For A January Morning.
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Musings of a Wannabe Poet | musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com Reviews

https://musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? Poetry For A January Morning.

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Musings of a Wannabe Poet

http://www.musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-just-want-to-go-on-stinking-date.html

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Friday, February 20, 2009. I just want to go on a stinking date. It's causing me to be full of hate. Just one freakin' day a year,. Can't you get off your lazy rear? I know it's kinda hard for you,. But will you ever get a clue? If you like my company. And like to eat my pastries. You need to stop being a jerk! Don't I get at least one perk? I can do almost everything. Heck I can even dance and sing! But there is one thing I cannot do,. And that is be a man for you!

2

Musings of a Wannabe Poet: Somethings are worth waiting for. . .

http://www.musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com/2009/06/somethings-are-worth-waiting-for.html

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Friday, June 5, 2009. Somethings are worth waiting for. . . Somethings are worth waiting for I tell myself each day. Like the dry and barren ground waits for the moist and delicate rain. Somethings are worth reaching for even when there far away. I've seen flowers reaching as they search for the sun's rays. Somethings are worth hoping for I have experience here. Hope is what keeps me believing that the future is so near. Waiting for you to see me is not what makes me cry. A lot...

3

Musings of a Wannabe Poet: What is it you Want?

http://www.musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-is-it-you-want.html

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, February 5, 2009. What is it you Want? How am I supposed to know how you really feel? How am I supposed to guess what is really real? How am I supposed to trust that you will still be there? How is it I want so much, when I usually don't care? What is it you want to say but do not once again? I don't know if I can be satisfied with you just as my friend. . Go away or come really close just stop standing there. I have found that kind of honesty is really just so rare.

4

Musings of a Wannabe Poet: January 2012

http://www.musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? Poetry For A January Morning.

5

Musings of a Wannabe Poet: More Poetry for January Morning

http://www.musingsofawannabepoet.blogspot.com/2012/01/more-poetry-for-january-morning.html

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? View my complete profile.

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"Give me the Simple Life": The best is yet to come!

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2011/11/best-is-yet-to-come.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Tuesday, November 8, 2011. The best is yet to come! I think I have had my share of fabulous blessing over the last year. I have been looking back and seen how much my life has changed. I started dating Mark, got engaged, married, and pregnant in a year! People who say those things are such kill joys! Im so excited ...

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"Give me the Simple Life": Dear June 11th

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2011/04/dear-june-11th.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Monday, April 11, 2011. Dear June 11th,. I feel like I have been very patient, and I will rejoice if you could speed time up a little bit. Dear June 11th, if you could come sooner it would be oh so nice. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Our biggest adventure yet is parenting our son, Samuel!

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"Give me the Simple Life": "the manner of happiness"

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2011/05/manner-of-happiness.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Monday, May 2, 2011. The manner of happiness". I am truly excited for our marriage, and also our wedding. In the mean time there is a lot to do and plan, but how bad could it be? I have Mark to hold my hand. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Our biggest adventure yet is parenting our son, Samuel!

hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com

"Give me the Simple Life": Gratitude

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Thursday, November 25, 2010. This morning I am thinking of all the things I am incredibly grateful for. What could be better that teaching music. . . Thanksgiving to all these things and the many I have not listed. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Our biggest adventure yet is parenting our son, Samuel!

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"Give me the Simple Life": Musings of a Wannabe Poet

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2012/01/musings-of-wannabe-poet.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Thursday, January 5, 2012. Musings of a Wannabe Poet. So, I went to my other blog today, and realized that I have not written much, if any poetry since 2009! How sad. So I tried to get my creative juices flowing, and I will attempt to write more. I also have been dabbling with the idea of writing a book.

hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com

"Give me the Simple Life": Did my water just break?

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2012/01/did-my-water-just-break.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Tuesday, January 10, 2012. Did my water just break? So, it is Tuesday morning, and I swore Mark to secrecy about the events of our weekend. Mostly because I don't want his family to pass around stories about how I am silly, or make fun of us. But here it is. Also, Mark is the best husband in the world, and the labo...

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"Give me the Simple Life": When Samuel was Born

http://hollybygollyshessojolly.blogspot.com/2013/01/when-samuel-was-born.html

Give me the Simple Life". Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain. Wednesday, January 23, 2013. When Samuel was Born. Sometimes things can take a while for us to process. I have yet to write down my sweet baby boy's birth story from my perspective, and I think that now it is time. During each contraction, more water just gushed! It was a mess! Mark was my saving grace. Everyth...

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Tuesday, June 14, 2011. Letter to my donor. Sounds so inferior for such an important letter, doesn't it? Anyway, here it is, at least a first draft. You may think in donating your eggs that you were just doing a job, and probably glad to have it finished. But I want you to know that I never considered your role in this as that of just some paid attendant. Together, you, myself, and my husband have created a new life; and that to me is something magical, significant, and blessed by God. A woman I met this...

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Musings of a Wannabe Poet

Musings of a Wannabe Poet. Thursday, January 5, 2012. More Poetry for January Morning. Mother, spoken reverently, can moisten hardened hearts. Mother, spoken harshly, can tear same hearts apart. Mother, spoken gratefully, brings grown men to their knees. Mother, spoken conjures images heavenly. How can a mortal designations press into divine? How does a simple woman, flawed, create a memories shrine? Does she comprehend the value that she brings to those for whom she cares? Poetry For A January Morning.

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