Tag Archives: creative writing

Grocery List

Louise Redden, a poorly dressed lady with a look of defeat on her face, walked into a grocery store. She approached the owner of the store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge a few groceries. She softly explained that her husband was very ill and unable to work, they had seven children and they needed food.

John Longhouse, the grocer, scoffed at her and requested that she leave his store at once.

Visualizing the family needs, she said, “Please, sir! I will bring you the money just as soon as I can.”

John told her he could not give her credit, since she did not have a charge account at his store.

Standing beside the counter was a customer who overheard the conversation between the two. The customer walked forward and told the grocer that he would stand good for whatever she needed for her family.

The grocer said in a very reluctant voice, “Do you have a grocery list?”

Louise replied, “Yes sir.”

“O..K”,” he said, “put your grocery list on the scales and whatever your grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries.”

Louise hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. She then laid the piece of paper on the scale carefully with her head still bowed.

The eyes of the grocer and the customer showed amazement when the scales went down and stayed down. The grocer, staring at the scales, turned slowly to the customer and said begrudgingly, “I can’t believe it.” The customer smiled and the grocer started putting the groceries on the other side of the scales. The scale did not balance so he continued to put more and more groceries on them until the scales would hold no more. The grocer stood there in utter disgust. Finally, he grabbed the piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater amazement.

It was not a grocery list, it was a prayer, which said, “Dear Lord, you know my needs and I am leaving this in your hands.”

The grocer gave her the groceries that he had gathered and stood in stunned silence.

Louise thanked him and left the store.

The other customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to the grocer and said, “It was worth every penny of it. Only God† knows how much a prayer weighs.”

Woman of Change

Woman of Change

the forty’s jab
isn’t a fad
I’m a woman
-now over half

this life-altering wrath
maybe I’m going mad
it’s harder for me to laugh
so easy to be sad

I don’t intend to nag
don’t call me a hag
I’m just part of nature’s
embedded path

I look around
my home’s pad
analyzing what I have

have I done
something worthy
for me to brag

cleaning, cooking, caring
has become a drag

thoughts of my past
goals I stashed
waiting for life to pass
-how time and life
seems to clash

perfect life you think
I may have
what should make me glad
suddenly feels daft

a career once sought
stagnated like a rash
for others-
childhood dreams
thrown in the trash

this life weaved-
thrown together graph
looking back
did I miss a tab

time moves so fast
why didn’t I take
that much wanted class
life seemed so vast-
now staring at
a half-empty glass

overwhelming-
this forty-analyzing task
I didn’t invite
its thought-provoking rag
-forcing its way
with a loud-banging rap

I start to wonder
this place I hang my hat
is it really all that
am I caught in life’s trap
-to others
I seem strapped
this worn out mask
suddenly-
I feel like an ass

myself-
I let others map
my potential left untapped

marriage-
a partner I did add
now seems matted-
a constant circling lap

my body has sagged
my beauty-
how much longer
will it last

I’m not an aging old crab
or a mean old bat
I’m just wanting to have
what I lack

that once desiring
sexual craft

pleasure I once had
-locked in a bag
suddenly screaming
wanting to dash
adds to my new sass
for a lover-
I’ve become
a prowling, seeking cat

is it too much to ask
wanting to redraft
in time-
take a trip back
throw away
this coveting mask
inside-
a new born calf
desires spilling
from this suffocating sack

no longer wanting to crash
awakening from this
twenty-year nap
maybe turning bad
seeking-
a sexual-driven raft

causing others to hurt-
I don’t intend to tag
I just want to jump off
this stale, lifeless rack
instead of coveting
in a long, hot bath

I want to rediscover
the place I once sat
this life to rehash
desires to quickly nab
tears to lash
out loud
I want to laugh

before the next twenty years
time will pass-
my sixty’s start to wag
blankets covering my lap
aged hands-
my children gently pat
on the wall-
memories are tacked
of a life-
I can’t have back

Need Your Take

Explanation to questions I’ve asked below: I’m working on a series of novels, in the 3rd book one of my main characters falls in love with a married man. His marriage is on the rocks, but he’s still married. I have no experience in this department, so I’m hoping to get responses that would aid in my research. My questions are not about judging people, they’re about finding out what people think. Yes, the questions are a bit blunt, and may go against your beliefs but in my writing, I like to be as realistic as possible. Your responses will help that be reality. You may know someone who was in this situation. I don’t want names! I just want your take on the specific questions. More than a one word response would be greatly appreciated. You can answer them here or go to http://www.facebook.com/keleger. I will be posting more questions in the coming months on facebook, so if you’re interested in helping me with my research, please go there. Thanks, k

1.  If you had the chance to do something that you strongly desired to do, without thinking about the repercussions, would you do it?

2.  Does size matter (referring to the privates of a man) PLEASE, keep it clean?

3.  What in the hell is “on-line” dating?!!!!

4.  Had dinner with a bunch of twenty- somethings, and wondered while I shot the BS with them, what happens to the forty-somethings? We use to be that…and then??? What changes us? Marriage? Children? or it is just not being free and screwing around? Do we just get boring or do we just get bored, and what happens when we get bored? To further my curiosity, why are forty-somethings not welling to admit their bored, or even to talk about it? We were the twenty-somethings. We were free and we screwed around. So what happened? Why the hypocrisy? You either can admit it and do something about it or you covet it and live stale.