Cat Fight

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She’s dressed for the kill.

Lips painted red.

Claws painted black.

Her attire is flirty and sexy.

She’s done playing games with the hussy that stole her man.

A grin forms on her lips,

as she clucks her tonuge.

The whore is going to regret what she’s done.

Red stilettos shoes click on the floor,

as she heads out the door.

The bar is crowded and noisy.

The air smells of beer and sweat.

Men’s mouths gap open as she walks in strutting her stuff.

She  sits down on a bar stool.

Left thigh hangs out  from the slit in her black swingy dress.

She shoots a shot of whiskey,

feeling the liquor burn the back of her throat as it goes down.

Across the room she spots her prey entwined with her man.

Standing up, the crowd parts,

letting her make her way to the hussy bimbo.

Black claws flex as she reaches for the slut.

A whimper escapes her mouth as her fist slams into her nose.

She brings her left stiletto shoe back and kicks her in the shin.

Her stiletto shoe flies across the room,

landing in a guys lap.

She turns and bats her eye lashes in a flirtatious gesture.

He salutes her with his beer.

She takes the tramp by the hair and sends her flying

onto the pool table, making a score with her head.

She turns to leave,

but hears her man ask, “What about me?”

Her eyes narrow to little slits.

He backs up a step when her right stiletto shoe kicks him in the groin.

The guy from across the room walks up to her.

“Sugar,  you deserve a drink.”

He slips her stiletto shoe back on her foot.

A devilish laugh escapes her lips.

She’s dressed for the kill.

Lips painted red.

Nails painted black.

Her attire is flirty and sexy.

She’s free and on the prowl.

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California Vegetable Dumpling Soup

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Ingredients

5 can(s) 14 oz. chicken broth, reserve one can
1 can(s) evaporated milk
4 medium potatoes, peeled and chopped
2 1/2 c frozen California vegetable blend
1 c frozen Pictsweet chopped onions & peppers
12 thawed tee biscuits cut in half
4 Tbsp perfect pinch seasoning
1 Tbsp thyme, dried

Directions

1. In a large pot bring 4 cans of the chicken broth to a boil.
2. Add the potatoes and cook 20 minutes
3. Add the thyme. Salt and pepper to your liking!
4. Add the California vegetables and onions & peppers, cook another 20 minutes.
5. Add the perfect pinch to a plate and coat each biscuit half.
6. Add your biscuits to the pot along with the milk, stir gentility. Add the reserve can of broth if more liquid is desired! Simmer 20 minutes!

If Only I Could Touch The Stars

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We found our love underneath the shimmering stars

The glistening light illuminated our heart’s desire

What happened?

Our path we paved in the stars are shattered at my feet

If I can get my heart to quiet its crying, your voice will touch

my ears in a subdued whisper

 

Just the feel of your love swaddled me in you forever,

but our forever walked out the door

The distance between us is filled with silence

Each night I stand in our favorite place

The stars melt into my tears that fall in sorrow

 

I collect each moment we shared as a kiss from you,

and you were the breath I needed each day, without

it I’m roaming restlessly

My body aches for your touch, and for you to drink

me in with your eyes

 

Our passion dreamed of us being together forever,

but our forever walked out the door

You was my burning light in the darkness, but now

I’m lost living without you

My happiness wears a frown of sadness,

and it yearns for you

 

Some nights the stars appear to be crying too

Maybe they are missing you the way I do

If only I could reach out and touch the stars I

would whisper my wish to each of them,

but they lay shattered at my feet

 

 

 

 

Nostalgia Faces Stare Through A Window Of Reflections

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A love story written, erased from inside where sorrow now flows

Sadness patiently drifts on succulent flavors of happier times

Hearts beat in strayed silence

Forever without you whispers come back

Loneliness becomes imminent by night but sustained by day

Lips make stained kisses of no return

Melted faith cascades over shattered dreams

Tinted images of what is paints black over what used to be

Duplicate memories are snap shots in crying minds

Tangled emotions collaspe in hands of two people

that no longer console each other

Slowly they become invisible in eyes of lost love

Scented flames of pride burn between unforgiving souls

Broken pieces of trust mirror forgotten vows

Voices echo one another in silent goodbyes

Existence breathes air into deflated hearts

While nostalgia faces stare through a window of reflection,

tears cry in pain

Isn’t She Beautiful?

She is beautiful in her old age

In his eyes she is exquisite

Life without her would be incomplete

A journey that is filled with

adventure she takes him on

His eyes sees others,

but they are no comparison

Exterior is complimentary

Easy on the eyes

Her interior has a mind of its on

In the cold winter months she keeps him warm

When it is hot and sultry she keeps him cool

Her voices sings sweet soothing music

Times when she is away his days

and nights are lonely

Inside of her he feels on high

Each day he takes her out he proceeds

with extreme caution

After all she is his prize possession

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Maybe Us(My sister Karen helped write this story too)

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      Nomi reached over and shut her alarm off.  A bright beautiful day laid a head.  And a wedding to go to.   Today her last best friend, Carol was getting married.  Three years ago Ella got married, and Nomi had been a bridesmaid.  Six months later June married and she was her matron of honor.  Seven months later Beth Anne got married and Nomi had been a bridesmaid.   Today she would be a matron of honor.  Never a bride.
     “Lord, am I going to grow old to be an Old Maid?”  Nomi asked as she slung her tanned legs off the bed.
     There was this one gentleman, Greg Miller who attended  each wedding too!  He was  the best man or groomsman.    Nomi mentally thought.  He would be the best man today.  The same sequence as her.  She couldn’t wait to feel his body up close and personal again.
     Greg didn’t wear a wedding band.   “But that doesn’t mean he’s not involved with someone,”  Nomi reasoned with herself.
     Dressed in her lilac dress jealousy squeezed her emotions.  All her friends married.  She wouldn’t cry for herself. Self pity was a waste of time.    Besides today she would see Greg Miller.
     Carol and Matt spoke their vows on the sandy beach.   Under an immense white tent.
The bride and groom greeted their family and friends.  And all Nomi could do was fantasize about Greg Miller.  The minute she had slipped her arm through his.  He had escorted her down the beach to the reception.  With the melody of the ocean waves mingling with the Violinist made the moment breathtaking.
     “Earth to Nomi,” Ella said, waving her hand.
     “Girl, you were a million miles away,” Beth Anne said as she sipped her punch.
     June ran her hand down her Lilac dress.  “What are you thinking about?”
     Nomi’s  gaze found Greg’s.  His blue eyes hypnotized her in a fantasy of yearning.  Flustered, she forced herself to gaze elsewhere,  but not before he smiled.  Ripples of passion made her heart flutter.
     “Does she need to cool off?”  Ella asked.
     Nomi found her voice.  “I am fine.  Go dance with your husbands.”  She watched as her friends danced with the love of their lives.
     Tears burned  her eyelids.   A person approached, and there stood Greg Miller.   Nomi’s pulse quickened as he pulled out a chair.   Excitement squelched in her throat.  The wind blew the curls in his hair, causing her to grin.  She tried not to prolong looking at him; it made her giddy.   All the eligible women knew that Greg Miller was perfection.
     “What’s the secret behind those eyes?”  He asked as he placed his warm hand on top of hers
     Nomi couldn’t tear her gaze from his deep dimples.   “What do you mean?”  She pressed her hand against her chest hoping to steady her breathing.  Deciding to play along she leaned toward him.  “What’s the mystery behind your thoughts?”
     The sound of seagulls floated between them.   A torrent of desire washed over him.  Hungry to hold Nomi in his arms Greg stifled a moan.  “You first.”
     Gathering her thoughts on the question Nomi realized how lonely she was.   “I’m just tired of always being a bride’s maid or maid of honor.”   Nomi savored the smell of His cologne.  A familiar exultant sultry sensation awakened every emotion in her body.
     Greg needed to suppress his yearning.  To reassure himself that Nomi was really there he took her hand.  “I’m tired of being a groomsman or best man too.”  A gentle breeze blew relieving the smothering heat rising in his cheeks.  Reaching for her hand again he pulled her to her feet.  “Shall we dance?”
     The unexpected way he held her made fireworks spark a deeper eagerness.   She wanted to get to know Greg Miller.  Nomi pursed her lips and allowed herself to enjoy the moment.
     Rivulets of waves crashing on the beach and the sound of Nomi’s heart beat added to the ambience.  “The best thing about these weddings is…….”  Greg hesitated.
     “Is what?”
     Slowly he regained control.  “You.”   His heart stuttered in his chest.
     Astonished, Nomi smiled.  “I always look forward to seeing you.”  Reveling in the caress of his warmth, and company she closed her eyes.
      We should have spoken up a long time ago.” Nomi admitted.
     “Let’s not think about that.  We have forever, if we want it.”  Greg spoke with ease and confidence.
     “All single men and women gather around,” announced the DJ.  “It’s time for the throwing of the  bouquet and the garter.”
     Nomi and Greg stood with the others.  Surprised, she caught the bouquet and Greg the garter.   They winked at each other.   Maybe a bride and groom are in the making.

CAN YOU FEEL THAT BEATING HEART IN YOUR CHEST? YOU’RE MEANT TO BE HERE!

There is always help!

The Godly Chic Diaries

I am a well-known and thoroughly-documented introvert. It takes me forever to make friends, and up until last year, I could count the number of friends I knew well on zero-fingers. But, I’m almost up to needing two hands for my hyper-local crew now, so it seems I may have turned a corner! Let’s file this post under “I can do it, anyone can do it”😊

Can I share something with you: Today, one of my friends told me she is planning a “celebration of life” on the anniversary of her suicide attempt. And she wanted to invite ALL those who have made an impact in her life, including me. It almost made me cry because it’s moments like these that I cherish, it’s moments like these that I am reminded of the impact I can make in someone’s life.

I know many of us think about those who we…

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Sweet Victory

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At night when the world stops spinning, and darkness dresses the earth she cries.  Lost within her on soul she aches for the peace that seems to be camouflaged, and out of reach.  Tears stain her porcelain cheeks.  Her pink lips move in a silent prayer, more like a plea for divine help.

She’s living, but feels dead.  The rise in fall of her chest is the only indication she’s alive.  She yearns to taste life, to live as if heaven has fell from the sky.  Fear burns her skin.  “Please, Jesus, I need your guidance.”  Her fiery red hair glides over her silk shoulder as she sobs.

Sadness is a breeze that blows in the open window.  Her ears listen, but the quietness is deafening.  She whispers a prayer persistently.  Shattered hope crushes her breath,  “I’m lost without you, Jesus.”  Realization opens her ocean blue eyes.  She needs Jesus inside her heart.  “Jesus, save me!” Her smile blends in with the happiness that washes over her.

The darkness slowly transmute into a bright light.  A blanket of peace fills her soul.  She was dead, but now alive.  As morning breaks she’s ready to face the day.  She’s found sweet victory in Jesus!

 

This is something new for me! It’s supposed to be a prose poem!  Let me know what you think!