I am a widow since 2013 and live by myself in a small apartment. I use a wheelchair to get around, but I wouldn't consider myself disabled. I'm 11 years away from having bladder cancer resulting in a urostomy and I'm doing well. This cancer was a result of having radiation in 1995 because of uterine cancer. So have faith in yourself, a cancer diagnosis is not a death sentence. My first try at blogging was an attempt to help other people with my condition. I am a mother of three married children, and a grandmother to eight gorgeous kids, featuring them often here, and a great grandmother to two as of today, 6/7/25! I enjoy exploring my feelings and like to try the challenges. I like humor, music, movies, games, and some sports. I absolutely appreciate your reading and commenting on my blog. I am happy to read all of your blogs and learn more about you. Please comment however you like, ask whatever, and I'll answer honestly. Thanks for reading! Cheryl
Welcome to Quadrille Monday here at dVerse. This week I’d like you to take any meaning, form or compound of the word music, and write a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting your title), including the prompt word.
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Music is an important part of my life, an essential element. Growing up my dad played in a Saturday night band and whole families attended the dance. He was talented, played by ear the piano, banjo, and fiddle. We all sang along and danced.
Rising up, back on the street Did my time, took my chances Went the distance, now I’m back on my feet Just a man and his will to survive
So many times it happens too fast You change your passion for glory Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past You must fight just to keep them alive
It’s the eye of the tiger It’s the thrill of the fight Rising up to the challenge of our rival And the last known survivor Stalks his prey in the night And he’s watching us all with the eye of the tiger
Face to face, out in the heat Hanging tough, staying hungry They stack the odds ’til we take to the street For the kill with the skill to survive
It’s the eye of the tiger It’s the thrill of the fight Rising up to the challenge of our rival And the last known survivor Stalks his prey in the night And he’s watching us all with the eye of the tiger
Rising up straight to the top Had the guts, got the glory Went the distance, now I’m not going to stop Just a man and his will to survive
It’s the eye of the tiger It’s the thrill of the fight Rising up to the challenge of our rival And the last known survivor Stalks his prey in the night And he’s watching us all with the eye of the tiger The eye of the tiger The eye of the tiger The eye of the tiger The eye of the tiger
The seismic shift resounded in Paul’s heart when he saw his first born child, the most beautifulboy he could imagine, being taken away from the courtroom in handcuffs. Paul could only stand there, as the insipid judge shouted “next case!” Paul thought he should have done something valiant, shielded his son from this harsh punishment, but Paul was only a parent who loved his son.
The money was good, too good he thought, but I can feign interest and react to her supposed allure again. Even in the dimming twilight, the slab of makeup in her attempt to appear beautiful turned him off. He would use his actor training, hoping to interpret the romantic anxious lover she wanted him to be.
1. I make a list but am usually tempted to add something if I’m in the store. Delivery makes it easier to resist.
2. I hate clothes shopping and even in store all sizes are different depending on brands so difficult to shop online. I like to feel the fabrics.
3. No. Actually I have a pair of sneakers, a pair of lace up boots and a big pair of snow boots. Inside I can wear fuzzy sheepskin socks because I don’t walk.
4. I enjoy going shopping if it’s for someone else, for example, a granddaughter.
Gratitude for the attitude of my daughter and family as they were two weeks without heat and it has been very cold and windy. We have experienced high winds with a storm on the way and on Saturday their new furnace was installed / just in time!
If I should stay Well I would only be in your way And so I’ll go, and yet I know I’ll think of you each step of the way
And I will always love you I will always love you
Bitter-sweet memories That’s all I’m taking with me Good-bye, please don’t cry ‘Cause we both know that I’m not What you need
But I will always love you I will always love you
And I hope life, will treat you kind And I hope that you have all That you ever dreamed of Oh I do wish you joy And I wish you happiness But above all this I wish you love I love you I will always love you
I, I will always, always love you I will always love you I will always love you I will always love you
Unwrap your heart. Open it up to me. Wrap your arms tightly so I can hear it opening. Every beat I feel as you are pressed so close against me, unwraps the gift I have for you in return. My love wraps around you and yours mine. Together we make the perfect package.
I recently read that Trump had to take a competency test and part of it was a forum of five words he had to recite at a later time with precision and accuracy. It might have been at the height of his downturn in popularity, but even the smallest detail should have mattered. Later this self proclaimed prodigal son declared he passed with flying colors—of course his constant dressing of red, white and blue.
This week for Sunday Confessionals I would like you to create and write about moments of nature : those moments where you noticed the sky, heard the specific rustle of the leaves and similar.
I hear you out there, threatening my window panes, curling around each corner, sneaking under door jambs, seeking a cleft or crevice to enter. A wood stove crackles its defiance—“I will keep them warm, enter at your peril!” The wind just laughs as it thunders once more, stronger, against the glass, and frosts it with designs.
You don’t fool me I say, beauty will not beguile me to look closely. I will lock the shutters tightly and hide your art, roll up thick carpets against the edges of doorways, and put more logs on the fire. Whip and pound and roar your cold, mighty air, but you will not freeze me.
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