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Walking Down My Shadows Part 1 [MultiFormat]
eBook by Gwynn Morgan
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eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: Sometimes I wrote with anguish and others with joy, and still others in a totally wry and cynical way. Yet every word is honest and intended to express what seemed to be real and powerful emotions at the time of the writing, whether I was fifteen or fifty when the words were set down. So read and laugh or weep...
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press, Published: 2007, 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2008
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [613 KB], eReader (PDB) [166 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [111 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [124 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [146 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [173 KB], hiebook (KML) [395 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [247 KB], iSilo (PDB) [92 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [152 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [185 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [179 KB]
Words: 35426
Reading time: 101-141 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 9780980458107
 
Walking Down My Shadows
Down a narrow passage
Bridging present to the past
I go walking down my shadows
To lay them to rest at last.
Back along a pathway
Constrained and confined,
I pursue a lengthening shadow
To its source in heart and mind.
Dogged, patient, stubborn
I will follow to the source
The memories of each shadow
Ere I chart a different course.
Walking down my shadows
Until I can set them free,
Release the ghosts of bygone days
To stop their haunting me.
Only when unburdened
And undarkened by their shade,
Can I turn to face the light at last
And forge forward, unafraid.
At last sufficient to myself,
No longer must I cling
To shadowed visions' darkness
So my spirit can take wing.
GMW 1/2007
* * * *
Young Love
My checkered amorous career began when I was about twelve and developed my first real crush on a boy. He was two years ahead of me in the one-room school I attended at the time, a school where my father was the teacher. He was one of the very few fancies of mine to earn parental approval. Given that fact, it's a wonder Marvin held my interest as long as he did....
Most of my adored heroes drew frowns and dark scowls. Now, having had a daughter of my own to worry over, I fully understand though at the time I did not. The mere chance of fecundity creates an eternal double standard that cannot be denied.
From there, I went through the normal teenage angst over school mates, various celebrities and an ill-assorted bunch of cowboys, truck drivers, construction workers and ne'er-do-wells who caught my roving eye. Having a poem of mine dedicated to one was not exactly a high honor, I suppose! Some rated several and a few never even got that much of my affection. Ah woman, thou art ever fickle!
From 1956 to 1963 and early 1964, a whole raft of admired ones came and went. After that, things turned more serious. Girl no longer, I moved on to adult entanglements, still full of painfully intense emotion but sometimes also bearing deeper consequences. I didn't intentionally flaunt society's rules; I just never could seem to abide by them. "Unwisely but too well," sums it up.
As for me, my own father named me a slut, a title not truly deserved but born of his rigid Victorian morality which allowed no leeway or forgiveness. "Good girls" were prim and pure; all others were simply harlots. One toe across the line was more than enough to earn condemnation. Thankfully most others have been more forgiving of my transgressions. Some skeletons in the family closet which I discovered later shed added light on his attitude but are not germane to this story-in-verse.
While searching for prince charming, I seemed to find a plethora of frogs, and now and then even a horny toad. As the song goes, I was looking for love in all the wrong places.... Once I ceased to look, it finally found me. Happily-ever-after was perhaps not quite the end of it, but I remained physically faithful to one man for thirty two years even through some rocky times, and only once even dreamed elsewhere. I do not know if that redeems me or not, but the shadows have been set free.
* * * *
Young Love--Naïve & Innocent
MLK, puppy-love's first blush...
My True Love (56) MLK
My True Love is handsome, tall and fair,
With eyes of blue and wheat-gold hair.
His heart's in his eyes when he smiles at me,
He's my true love and he'll always be.
* * * *
My Love Promise (58) MLK
I come, not with a dragging step
But with a lilting step,
Not with a drooping head
But with a high-held head,
Not with sorrow but
With a smile I come.
While the skies are blue,
To you alone I'm true
And when clouds bring gray,
I remain, your Gaye.
* * * *
To A Man-To-Be (59) MLK
No angel you, but I've oft said
I could not love an angel.
Hot tempered, careless, rather wild,
But who can be an angel?
Lazy, thrifty, clever, cool,
You care naught for the other;
I love you but I am a fool--
I cannot love another
* * * *
First Love, True Love (59) MLK
Many years ago it seems
When you entered first my dreams.
I was but a little child,
Innocent though rather wild.
I idolized you from the start,
Admired you and gave you my heart.
I guess you thought I was a pest,
Or cute but quite a brat at best.
You teased and grumbled, even hit,
But I know you liked me a bit.
Then you forgot me for awhile,
And turned to others with your smile.
It hurt me when I saw you ride
With other girls there at your side
But by some chance as the earth whirled
It tossed me back into your world.
It brought me joy to see and hear,
To know each day that you were near.
You've tried and found as I can see
That you're a 'maverick' like me.
The ways of others aren't your own,
So you prefer to run alone.
Don't think I do not feel your eye
Follow me as I walk by.
Don't think, my dear, that I don't know
You stand and wait for me to grow
'til I can give and take with you
A love that's first and last and true.
* * * *
High-School Heroes
Dark Eyes (57) JN
Dark eyes that laugh and are e'er full of fun,
Eyes that shine like the light of the sun.
Dark hair a blown by the teasing wind,
You don't love me but I can pretend.
Whether you're happy, excited or sad,
Something about you makes my heart glad.
* * * *
The Musicians (57) JN
There was a young man, his name was Jan
And a trombone he did play.
Old Louie and me we rode by, you see,
And Louie began to bray.
"That must be my cousin, 'cause I have a dozen,
And it sounds like a donkey's bray."
* * * *
Silver Dream (57) TWM
I wore your silver ring today,
A thing which I'd long dreamed to do
But placed there it was not by you.
As you had hurried on your way
You lost it only yesterday.
Set with a stone of turquoise blue,
Though bent and broken it was true,
I mended it without delay.
It fit as though 'twas made for me.
The broken band, the crack-marred stone,
But only the beauty did I see;
T'was meant for me and me alone.
And yet this face you'll never see.
Your blindness to it I'll condone.
* * * *
Firebrand (57) TWM
Your ring I'm wearing on my hand;
It burns me like a fire.
In my heart a long fought desire
Is struggling for a final stand,
A step into forbidden land.
This passionate, searing blazing fire
I must be facing the entire
While this scarred and broken band
Of silver marks me with your brand.
It's stone of broken turquoise square
Prisoner has made my heart and hand.
And now to you I must be fair
Or pay the penalty so grand
Yet still your love I cannot share.
* * * *
The Westward Wind (58) TWM
The westward wind is a lonely wind,
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And he was born the next of kin,
The next of kin to the westward wind.
On a lonely ranch on the eastern branch
He spent his younger days
And I guess the tales of the westward trails
Made him a slave to the western ways.
* * * *
Tell Me True (58) TWM
Laughing brown eyes, e'er aglow,
Do you love me, yes or no?
Answer me truly, answer me do,
Do I mean a thing to you?
You make me laugh, you make me cry,
You talk all day but don't say goodbye.
You borrow my books, you tease me mad,
You keep me happy but you make me sad.
You are not handsome but you have a way
Of holding my thoughts all night and day.
You toss your tawny head, flash that winning smile,
Do you ever think of me, once in a long while?
Laughing brown eyes, tell me true:
Do I dream in vain of you?
* * * *
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