Erma

Erma sat there in the small room stifled by the strong pungent odor of cigarettes and garbage of weeks gone by. Her eyes sunken and black were like holes left from a bomb. Her face drawn, with her skin sallow and lifeless she flung papers one after another through the stale air.

Words echoing through her mind so fast she could hardly get them down on paper as she flung a new batch to the already covered floor. What is wrong she asked herself, over and over I have done this and still I am at the beginning once again. Where is the beginning and why can’t I write my words to fit the ending which I so clearly see.

“Damn writing, to hell with it,” she said standing up and tripping on the pile at her feet. Kicking them she flew into a rage and sat back down. “Damn you I will finish this and no you are not going to stop me, do you hear me” she screamed into the smoked filled air.

The words had come so easily in the beginning, in her dream she knew every one of them, she saw where it would take her and she knew a best seller would soon hit the markets. She would be overcome with accolades from all the important people of the publishing world demanding another great work from her.
Throwing her head down on the pile of unfinished papers she sobbed. Who was she kidding, herself? Reaching for another cigarette, realizing the pack was again empty, she fumbled looking, almost ranting as she realized there was no more.

“Well hell,” she said as she strode through the door slamming it. The short walk to the corner Handy Mart seemed to give her a sense of freedom as she told the man to give her four cartoons of cigarettes and a fifth of their cheapest whiskey. Paying the man she left, to return to her rancid room. “This time by damn I will find the words and I will write my best story ever,” she muttered as she reached for the door, flinging the package down and finding a dirty glass pouring herself a glass full. Ripping the cigarette from the pack she lit it and sat down by her desk. Savoring the whiskey and the long drag from the cigarette, “this time, this time” she said.

Her eyes seemed to suddenely come to life and her heart skipped a few beats. Taking another long slug from her glass and a long drag from her cigarette, she grabbed her pen and began to write. The words were blurred and she became more intense and fierce as her hand moved across the paper.

With sirens blaring, the police came. The stench from the room had alarmed her neighbors and they had made the call. “Every one stand back,” the policeman said as he kicked the door open. Covering his nostrils and moving forward he saw her slumped on the desk, the bottle knocked over, cigarettes lay burnt all over the desk. The medical examiner came inside now and looking about he said “doesn’t look like foul play here," as he moved her body. His eyes went to the piles of papers, “my lord son look at this” he said. The pen had fallen from her hands and her scrawled words read, “I finally made the headlines.”

Through the darkness of rain and night
Words echoed deeply within their hearts
They had been found, deep within the earth

Hope sprang forward with light
Then hours later, a desperate cry
Twelve dead, one clinging, hanging on

Sorrow, anger, tears flowing
A miscommunication, sorry they said
Now family’s broken, need time

Lift up your prayers my friends
Pray that the broken spirits will heal with time
Pray for those gone on, in the bowels of earth

When His soul touches a heart
Heaven is close at hand
While love warms and wraps your being
The soul seals and heals your wounds

So let your heart be touched by His soul
Feel heaven as you look at Him
Know that His being is near
Forever to touch and hold you

Be the keeper of my soul
While I walk the plains of earth
Be the keeper of my soul
When I return to you forever

December 31, 2005
It’s the New Year once again, and I’m right where I was this time last year. No advancement, no gain except that I am older. A little wiser in some ways and a little sadder that my children are so far away, I am thankful for the great friends of the Internet World. I make no New Years Resolutions, as I would only break them. I will make this one promise to myself only, that I improve my life in some way. Reckon a path will open and hopefully I choose wisely this year.
My wish for those I love is to live good, pure in heart as can be done in these times and for the safety of my precious Troy to return home. A new Grandchild will be born this year and I pray for Sarah’s health and the health of the new one. Hopefully my daughter will visit and my precious girl’s who filled my life with so much joy will come for a visit.Out there in my Internet world, I pray Carolyn finds her new home and Bob doesn’t have to drive so far. I pray John will sell his paintings and Easywriter will write a book. I pray for my friends in Port to have a wonderful year and that David will return from Afghanistan.
Enjoy this view of the Oregon Coast line; let its dreams fill your heart , as it washes away the old and brings renewed hope with new found peace for now and always. God Bless all our Servicemen and Women who are far from home. Happy New Year All. Welcome to January 1,
2006

A Mothers Prayer

She sits quietly along with her thoughts
A child far away is drawing her heart
Tugging the threads that bound them

Weaving words of love that run silently
Asking for protection and guidance for him
This day, as she feels his spirit close

Wisdom has taught her patience
Prayer has given her solace
As she ask God to watch over him

A tear falls down her cheek
As she ask that if it is to be
Please spare her son ,for she has lived

She is satisfied with her works here
He has much left to do
A wife and children wait for him

As a warm comfort comes over her
She utters a small sound
His will be done this day I pray
Amen
© Tobie Haga Roy
Picture by © Robert Pollerana

The loneliness of my earthly being
Seeks comfort from my Heavenly Lord
Arms that once held a child
Have now turned to emptiness

Giggles that turned to laughter
Now gone far away
Emptiness settles at night
Where once laugher was

Chores once done with happiness
Now lay to be done
Silence fills the hearth
As dinner passes

Day is ended when darkness comes
Blue skies turned grey
Loom over my being
As I seek thy comfort Lord
Art Work by © John Sparks