Sentimentality …

Sentimental pieces.

An unsent card –

receipts –

a

dancing ballerina –

memories of moments shared.

I don’t know what to do with them all.

Currently they reside in a neat pile

next to pink leather.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like

to be heartless.

Without the inclination to keep happy – Summer windswept bits.

But if I was, would I be the same?

Not likely.

In the place of warmth

a

frosty maiden.

Cool and controlled.

In the next life?

Perhaps …

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Pieces of life …

I’ve begun to pack away bits of life

Crystal pretties – ducks and bunnies

Voodoo dolls

Shells with memories

Artwork saturated with sweetness

A pink memory book that holds one finished page

but is littered with notes, receipts and sparkly pieces,

that still wait to be fastened.

Wanting to belong.

Yet somehow knowing they never will.

A dried flower falls softly to the ground – undone from its hidden place..

Books with earmarked pages

all gently wrapped  and placed in green bubbles and brown cardboard.

One soul defined –

and

heart remembered –

stored

but

not forgotten.

Pieces …

I collect bits and pieces.

Memories.

Small shards of moments that I cherished.

A leaf.

Flower petals.

Ticket stubs.

Little notes.

Ribbons.

Cake toppers and so much more.

Every bit, a reminder of a precious moment once lived joyfully.

I suppose you could say that I am a true romantic. 

It seems I have always been this way. 

When I was a child I would tape conversations.  Knowing (somehow) that one day the voices of loved ones on the tape would be ever so important.

An old poetry book filled with tidbits of my life.  Now placed inside an airtight bag for safe keeping.

A mickey mouse cookie missing one ear forever living a cold (yet warm memory) existence within my freezer. 

I believe that every lovely experience has a place within my heart and mind.

So, I hold onto the tangible manifestations of all the love, laughter and life.

These moments have shaped and molded me soulfully into the person I am today.

My past is who I am

and

where I have been.

So, as I move forward into life, I will continue to gather small tokens that I find along the way. 

And, they will eventually mingle with the past, adding a rich patina to a life lived.

Happiness Is…

 
  
  
 
 
 
•Crisp parchment paper•
•Old fashioned ink pens•
•The sound and smell of wood crackling in a fire-place•
•Birds and their songs•
•Black and white horror films on Halloween•
•Sappy love songs•
•Barry Manilow (don’t judge)•
•Surprises just because•
•Giving•
•Old world charm and manners•
•Chivalry (towards me of course)•
•Singing in the shower•
•I have a crazy desire to collect hand-made soaps•
•Coach purses•
•Naming everything•
•Alone behaviour when I’m not alone•
•Penguins•
•Music•
•The Quiet•
•Old Buildings and their stories•
•Books and their smell•
•Deep penetrating kisses•
•Cooking•
•Equestrian events•
•The wind in my face•
•Individuals who understand girls like me•
•Lace•
•Pink Depression glass•
•Deadliest Catch•
•Hedgehogs•
•Puppies•
•Nick and Nora Charles•
•The sound of a heart beating•
•Fog•
•The sound of the ocean•
•Learning to be patient•
•The thrill of instant gratification•
•Searching flea markets for hours•
•Spontaneous trips•
•Secret places•
•English gardens•
•Pretty Bungalows•
•Diet Coke•
•Ritual of all kinds•
•The scent of burning incense•
•Strong hands that heat my skin•
•laughter that bubbles forth from ones soul•
•The smell of Tuberose•
•The way chocolate melts on my tongue•
•The way words feel as they slip from my lips•
•The feel of snow flakes on my eyelashes and rain on my lips•
•My obesession with lipstick•
•Pink, sparkly things•
•Magic wands (if only)•
•Hostess Cherry Pies•
•Being read to•
•Wearing a mans shirt•
•Being objectified (fun)!•
•The Dark•
•Martinis•
•French Champagne•
•Being still with myself•
•Blue Alerts•
•Crushed ice•