An Important Person

Introducing Tara
A young adult,
Twisted in her wheelchair,
Her speech tangled.
Reaching out to her caregivers,
Making them feel useful
Her laughter brings them joy
Tara is one person among millions
Teaching kindness and affection.
Her contribution.

Gollywhallupers

I was three years old when Mom and Dad were leaving me home with my brother and sisters.  I wanted to go with them, but they didn't pay attention to my screaming tears.  As they walked out of the door, Dad gave me a warning, "Look out for the boogie man and don't let the Gollywhallupers get you."

When Mom and Dad returned, they tucked me into my bed.  In my bed, I was thinking about Gollywhallupers, wondering what they looked like and if they were scary.

Suddenly, I saw a pink animal with a head resembling Miss Piggy and the texture of a gummy bear.  She stood at that foot of my bed, bigger than me.

"What are you?" I asked.

"I'm a Gollywhalluper.  My name is priscilla."

"No. You can't be a Golllywhalluper. You're not scary enough."

"Most of us aren't scary.  The actions of a few gives us a bad reputation.  I'm here on a mission to change our reputation, one child at a time.  Is there anywhere you would like to go or see?  I'll take you anywhere.  I prefer some place pretty.

After some thought I said, "I want to go to Holland.  I would like to see the tulips, the wooden shoes and Dutch dresses with aprons and a hat.

"That's original.  Most kids want to go to Disneyland."

"I can go to Disneyland anytime."

"Close your eyes." Priscilla told me. "Come fly with me over the nation, over the ocean on our way to Holland.  Put this little plastic flute in your bag and enjoy.  When you want to return, play the tune, My Favorite Things on your flute.  I will come carry you back to your bedroom."

I woke remembering my trip to Holland.  I thought it was a dream.  In the kitchen, my dad was fixing breakfast saying, "Did you sleep good?  Did you run into any Gollywhallupers?"

"Yes, Dad.  I had a wonderful dream."

I went to my room to get dressed when I spotted something poking out beneath the bed.  When I pulled it out, I realized it was a wooden shoe.

"Priscilla, How did you do this?  You've got to come meet my father.  He thinks you're scary."

"We gollywhallupers only visit children, especially when children are told we are dangerous."

"I can't just forget about it.  I want to tell the world."

"Most of the world has never heard of Gollywhallupers and the ones who have are frightened by us.  You can help by telling the children.  Adults can't comprehend anything that they can't touch.  A child's innocence let's the magic in.

Next time your dad is leaving the house and telling you, "Watch out for the Gollywhallupers."  You can pretend to be frightened,  You and I have a secret."

Run Away Mind

Lost in the chaos of the crowd.
my mind runs away

to a place I don't remember.

In the background

distant voices

barely audible

Jabbering things I don't understand.

Upon my return

I feel embarrassed,

hoping that nobody missed me.

Another Day

Waking up early 
Going through the motions
of my morning routine.
Overdosing on caffeine,
Planning my day
of TV, the computer
and visiting with friends.
Resting on Sunday.
Looking forward to Monday.
Another day,
Another week.
Another Christmas,
Gone.
And we start over again.

Writing

I first thought about writing while living in Ventura, California, with Mom, Dad and Steve.

I was in my bedroom, thinking about my boyfriend and wanting to share some of my feelings with him.  I felt like I had to hide some of my deepest feelings.  I imagined myself as a cookie jar filled with all kinds of goodies.   Some good, some negative.  I wrote a little poem about it.  That's where I got the title to my blog.

In English 101, at BYU, my teacher encouraged me to write, saying it was a gift.  I decided to take a creative writing class at the college in Ventura,  I liked it so much that I took it over again.

I wrote a few poems and a couple of short stories.

Years later, when I was using mental health, one the ladies working with me, JoAnne encouraged me to write.  Every time I wrote a poem, I took it over to show her.  She found a poetry class through the Granite School District Adult Education and helped me sign up.

The class was wonderful.  Utah's Poet Laureate and the writer of the book of the year were in that class.

I've been writing for years.  I have published two poems and a story.  I've been trying to write a book, but I seem to write the same things over again, I am trying to get it just right.

I spend most of my time writing and I have become prolific.

Tear Drops

Drops of water
Dripping from my eyes
Rolling down my cheeks
Salty on my lips.

They could be cleaning drops
Washing away my blemishes
Leaving me bright, smooth and
Fresh

Purple Noses

If I painted my nose purple
Would people notice me?
Would the think of me as different?
Would they speculate about my  motives?
and wonder if I'm dangerous.
People fear what they don't understand,
Like why a person would
Paint their nose purple.