Thanks for Special Birthday Greetings From Alllllll Over!

Happy, Happy Birthday Glenda!

I hope your Iris blades are cutting the clouds down to size,

and the roses are getting ready to raise their blooms to the skies,
I will send word to the daylily leaves,
to wait untill roses and iris are done
to color your world with life giving sun.
May your grass never grow more that one green inch high
and every darn weed will just turn up and die
and may you enjoy every day in life giving sunshine
and lots of good wishes be added to mine.
May your heart sing this whole day long,
now show that you'r happy with your voice raised in song.

~~~


Now go and sit down and lets have a piece of that Birthday cake,
and a cup of whatever your taste calls for today.

I had to send a thank you again
for making my day special.


Love


Mary


Yesterday was my birthday and I got so many great thoughts from my online friends, but Mary, whose birthday is one day before mine, chose to write this lovely poem--she's been hearing my complaints about being snowed in...So she wished me Spring! I love it!

Guest Poet and Author Mary Edwards Celebrates Birthday With Book Readers Heaven!

Another Pill

 

I rode a bus the other day

And I heard a woman say

I went to see the doctor

And wondered what he’d say

He smiled and wrote a prescription

To fill another pill

I asked if they were costly, he said they’d cost a bit

I said then I can’t get them

The cost would make me ill

I take a pill to wake me up

Another to help me sleep

A pill to kill my appetite

And one to make me eat

One to cause the skinny thing, or.

make my fat cheeks glow

Oh! What happened to the day

When we were so eager to go

And we didn’t need a pill

we could just--get–up--and go

~~~

Hallways

There are ghosts that walk the hallways of my mind

Precious ghosts that still reach out for me

Ghosts that I still hold as treasures of the days that used to be

Brought in through doors of memory

I hold your hand and walk beside you in the hallways of my mind

I hear your footsteps as you grow

I feel your baby fingers as they curl around my heart

memories in a room that I still know

Memories will live forever in my mind

and give me one more day to spend with you

what will I do when I never more can hold you

as I walk these hallways in my mind

How long is forever, can you tell me?

Will these ghosts leave more footprints on my heart?

what will I do if I never more can hold you

and your wraith leaves no footprints on my heart.

~~~

The Firefighter

What color were the lips

that blew the breath of life in me when mine was gone?

What color was the hand that held to mine?

What color were the arms that lifted me

and carried me from harm?

What color? What shade of white, red, yellow or brown?

What color?

In my time of desperation, my baby buried ‘neath debris

What color were the hands that worked and finally set him free?

That lifted him and ran for help, tears streaming down his face,

I don’t remember now, his color or his race.

What color were the hands that held to mine in prayer?

And gave the precious comfort of knowing he was there.

He went into that burning hell.

Where other’s screamed in pain, but

I do not know if he came out again.

When I try to remember him, I cannot see his face.

But now I know he was all men, all colors, shade and race.

He went back into that place of death

From where he rescued me,

To find that screaming voice of pain

And work to set it free.

--Mary Edwards

Happy Birthday Mary!

Love You!

Guest Poet and Author Mary Edwards Shares Her Latest Words...

Through The Windows Of My Heart.

If happiness is a picture Please let me paint it now

Then let me close my eyes and live in it somehow

Let me hold it in my heart and never let it go

But let it shine upon my face so all I meet will know

I only paint the happy time to send the sad away

To help me change a saddened heart

 and build a better day

To help me stand up strong and tall

 and never let me faint

Or sit back down and fold my hands

 in streaks of muddied paint

OH NO! for soon my happy heart

 will cover up the pain

And the picture of my life will be a joyous day again

I'll paint with love and happiness

 that I will soon redeem

to paint another happy day and fill it with a dream.

~~~

I wrote this from the thoughts that stayed unanswered about too little time now that it is a heavy cloak to wear.

TIME

The whistling rushing winds of time

 have caught me out,

and fulfilled no promise of the things

 I thought life owed me

I recognize, now that it is late, was me owed life

to fulfill all promises, pay all debts

Oh winds blow backwards, give me time

or back the time I tossed away in forfeit

While I waited, hands open, mind closed

 and could not see your passing.

It's not too late, is it? Not quite too late?

the Knell is not yet ringing, but still I hear time say--

there is so ... little time.

This will not win time, but it is from my head and heart

Love Mary

 

 

It is such an honor to have Mary (also author of three published novels) share her poetry, don't you think?

Review: A Touch of Southern Gothic in Angel's Rest by Mary Edwards

Angel’s Rest
By Mary Edwards
Wings ePress Inc.
ISBN: 9781597055079
240 Pages

The beautiful cover of a man carrying a small girl out of the water immediately captured me. Who was the little girl? Did she drown? Or was she still alive? What was her name? Obviously the answers were to come as I began to read Angel's Rest by Mary Edwards!

When Deirdre (Dee) Anderson was called to the office of Tyler Summerfield, a man she had always called Uncle Tyler, she thought it was going to be about a small inheritance from her grandfather who had recently died. Uncle Tyler had been her grandfather's partner and was now handling his estate. Unfortunately, he now had the responsibility to tell Dee that there was no money. In fact, he had been giving her a small allowance out of his own pocket. He had held $1000 to give to her at this time, but knew that it was not sufficient for the long term.

At the meeting, however, he revealed that he had at least one option for Dee. If she were willing, he had arranged to have her work to restore a home in Mississippi, just outside of Vicksburg, which had been built before the civil war, but long vacant. Dee was in a daze, knowing that she had no background to undertake the work, but was able to think clearly enough that she realized she had no choice. If she didn't take this opportunity, she would have to immediately start her own search for a position.

Raised by her grandfather, Dee had become a rather independent woman and so, after the shock of losing her grandfather plus having to assume a position for which she did not feel qualified, she pulled herself together and made the journey. Immediately she would meet a number of individuals: Sean Wilson was to oversee the work she would be doing and Bill Brooks, a local veterinarian who was a friend of those involved at the home. She also met Melanie Nash who was to assist Dee and Sadie Lucas, who had years ago helped keep house at Angel's Rest.

There was one major problem, however. Dee had been told a little about some of the people who might be discussed when she arrived and she had been told not to reveal that she knew anything about them. The problem was that Dee indeed did not know anything but, regardless, she soon found that someone was trying to get her to leave!

Dee had known little about how her parents had died so that her grandfather raised her. Now she was in a place that she seemed to remember and she began to have visions of past scenes that seemed to have taken place within the home or on the grounds. In trying to begin a new life, she had accepted the individuals she was now living with at face value as potential friends, and she would enjoy their company, only to have them do or say something that was so strange that she began to doubt or trust them. Both men had shown a romantic interest, but then she would see that they were involved with others as well. Soon, she could not even tell herself how she really felt about her beaus!

Readers will feel the fear and terror and, mostly, frustration that Dee experienced. It results in a page-by-page suspense that will keep you on edge. Nobody was allowed to talk about the past, yet everything happening seemed to be based on it. For instance, why had Sadie started calling the home, Angel's Rest? And who was the little girl Sadie claimed to see there? Soon Dee decided she had to find out or possibly lose her life!

Mary Edwards tells the story of Angelique, the little girl that had been carried from the water so many years ago to haunt Angel's Rest until the girl found her own rest. Enter the horror of that search into which Dee Anderson has fallen, and through which she must now find her own personal salvation! Visit this southern, mysterious home and help solve the mystery--you'll be glad you joined the search!

G. A. Bixler