Gratitude day 5 …

Pink.

It’s not just a colour but a feeling.

It’s happy, girl like and at times quite sparkly (or it simply elicits a feeling of sparkliness).

While out and about this evening I ran across an entire area devoted too the pink and precious.   One item in particular caught my attention: it was a pink ceramic poodle.  Why did it catch my attention? Because when I was very young my mother bought me a ‘sick prize’.  This was a gift given only when I or my sister had been under the weather.  One day after one illness or another my mother and I found ourselves in Swenson’s Ice Cream Parlour. And, in the midst of all the wonderful sweets and sparkling treasures I found mine – a small ceramic poodle that I named ‘Pink Puppy’.  To this day Pink Puppy resides not only in my heart but in my treasure box as well.  So, in honour of day 5’s moment of gratitude, I am grateful for all things pink, pretty, sparkly and somewhat princessy.  And of course, the memories of childhood, sweetness and delight.

All hail the p.i.n.k.

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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.

Through the looking glass …

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror.

Really looked?

I did this evening and an odd thing occurred:

I didn’t really recognize the individual peering back.

There before me was a woman.

Pretty

with soft unlined skin

and blue inquisitive eyes.

But there was something else,

a feeling of familiarity mingled with the unknown.

It was as if I could see the past – present and future all at once.

There was a beautiful strength emanating from this reflection

and it penetrated the cold glass.

I waited – wanting to hear her voice.

Hoping that privy bits of worldly advice and knowledge

would spill from the painted lips.

But there was none.

As I turned to walk away, I heard

bold words of encouragement,

beauty and love.

For myself.

From myself.

Smiling,

I switched off the light

knowing …