These Are A Few Of The Stories/Inspirations
Behind Some Of The Poems.
OF INTEREST TO WOMEN
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "BEAUTIFUL SLUMBER"
One day, my mind took me on a trip and as I was staring into space, I visualised a beautiful lady sleeping. My view was from above and her face was bathed in a soft halo of light. As I continued watching her surrounded in this halo, the words to the poem 'Beautiful Slumber' flowed and I wrote them down.
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "29 AND HOLDING"
It was Gabrielle's 30th birthday and she was having an agonizingly difficult time with the BIG 3-O. A lady friend and her daughters were staying with me at the time. We were all friends of Gabrielle. I bought a cake, ballons, streamers and a Happy Birthday banner. I had also found the perfect candle. It said: "29 And Holding!!" I also bought a set of attachable designer nails, as Gabrielle's were in need of repair.
Gabrielle had a date that evening, but her shower needed fixing so I told her she could use mine.
The girls and I had prepared the bathroom, by hanging the Happy Birthday banner, ballons and streamers. The birthday cake was displayed in a very promonant position, as was the designer nails. Then we waited as Gabrielle entered the bathroom and closed the door. Many long moments passed, but we heard no shower.
Finally she came out, with tears in her eyes, speechless.
Needless to say, the girls, I AND Gabrielle enjoyed the moment. The girls mother didn't say much, as I believe she was a bit jealous. Gabrielle has survived many birthdays since then as she's much older now. Out of curiosity, I have looked for candles that stated something similar, but have never been able to find any.
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "THE FLAME"
A number of years ago, I and some friends were having a backyard picnic. I heard a song on the radio in the garage that I liked, which was outside of the fenced in yard, so I moved to the garage to better hear the song. As I was listening, I was moving to the music. I happened to look next door and saw a very attractive Mom and her three year old daughter. We saw each other at the same time, smiled and waved. The three year old was also dancing to the music.
I rejoined the picnic when the song was over. A few minutes later, the Mom and daughter came over. The Mom just happened to be standing very close to me. I don't know if that was by design or circumstances. Soon, I began to feel rather uncomfortable, but could not understand why. I had a very strong, strange feeling in my stomach, like butterflies. On the one hand, I wanted to stay by her side, but after awhile, this feeling became so strong, uncomfortable, that I finally decided to move to another area of the yard, away from everyone. After a few minutes, I felt much better, but also felt very much alone.
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "GHOSTS FROM THE PAST"When I was very young, I had a childhood disease called polio. In those days, when you were a patient in the hospital, they would put you in quarantine (you were in isolation for about two weeks, like solitary confinment. It was almost like you were being punished for something and you didn't even know you had done anything wrong). You stayed there until they knew that you were not sick with a cold or the flu that the other children might catch. I was in and out of the hospital a number of times from the age of seven until I was about ten or so, because of polio and each time, I spent the first two weeks alone, in isolation. The only people I saw were a few nurses. My parents were not even allowed to visit for those two weeks.
Then many years later when my son was very young, he needed to have some tests done. If you were from out of town, the hospital would allow a parent to stay with the child. Not in the same room, but in another room. His Mother and I both agreed that I should be the one to stay in the hospital with him, so she could stay home with our daughter, who attended school.
That first night, I had nightmares, as I had to sleep in the same quarantine/isolation room that I had to stay in when I was a child. I knew that it was the very same hospital that I had been in, but was shocked that it was the very same room.
But after that first night, I had faced all of the demons from my childhood and slept peacefully the rest of the entire two weeks.
The Story Behind The Poem: "Years Of Missing You"
On (10-??-00) there was a short story on the early evening news about an older widowed lady who owned an antique store. About 20 years before, out of the blue, some stranger walked in and said he could make her some shelving. That was all he said. She told him she didn't need any more shelves and asked him to leave, which he did. About 2 weeks later, he came back and appologised for being so forward. He said that he had no right to tell her what to do in her own store. His words took her by surprise and she accepted his appology. They became friends and eventually married. They were married for over 20 very happy years. He died the year before (1999) and she still hadn't gotten over his death. The tears started flowing as she told of this. As I saw her tears, I came close to tears myself and the words to the poem came to me. (Such a short poem for all the years of love).THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "GRANDMA AND A DIME"
Many years ago, I called Grandma to thank her for the birthday card and also for the dime that was always included. She apologised and said that she wished that she could include more money, but she could not afford it. I told her that I always looked forward to the card, but more importantly, to the dime. I told her that there was something very special about that dime. It came from her and that made it very, very special.
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM: "AND THE BUFFALO ROAM"
One day I was watching a movie called 'Bless The Beasts And The Children.' It was about a group of teenage boys at summer camp out west. They had heard that anyone could pay a certain amount of money and then could shoot a buffalo that was in a large corral. The boys were going to stop the slaughter by releasing the buffalo. As the boys shouted and yelled at the buffalo after the gate was opened, the buffalo stampeded out of the corral. It was then that the title came to me. Then the buffalo ran a few hundred yards and stopped, milled around then started feeding on the grasses.
I do not know the meaning behind this poem. I do not interpret them, I just write whatever I'm inspired to write. T J
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