A right to write

I have always enjoyed writing. I've had a passion to do it every since I first put pen to paper. I remember when I was in grade school that I would practice my penmanship so that my handwriting wasn't too messy at all. Is that the makings of a semi-nerd or what! Whenever my dad would tell us girls to go to bed, I would always go in the bathroom, close the door and sit on the floor next to the tub and start writing. I wrote about this or that or even nothing at all. I just wrote because I enjoyed doing it.

Over the years, I've written poems and stories, some that I've made up, some were realistic and I guess after moving from here to there, things got lost in the rubble. I've always wanted to write a book but between work and school and then a life, I'm making the excuse that I don't have time to do it. I'm sure I can make time but when? Has anyone gone back to school while working a full time job and still being a wife and a mother? Holy Cow!! Well in light of what I like to do, I don't know why I'm not getting a degree in what I enjoy...ah ha, I know why. The degree I am seeking does not require me to take any more math. Yippee!!

So here is a of something I wrote back in 2008. Let me know what you all think.

I see black stars surrounded by black holes envisioning me to move closer. I hesitate cautiously. Could this be a dream? I give in, but yet so slowly. The stars encircle me and pull me into one hole at a time. I ponder the thoughts of my inner being and ask myself, "Just what is going on!" But wait, I am at a stand still because there is another star that is left behind, one that is drowning from the fall. I can't just let that one star drift away without me trying to help it. It even has a brighter glow of all the other stars put together. I am still being pulled into yet another hole, the forcefield is so strong. I like the strength of all these black stars. Their strongness, their boldness - but I also like the brightness of this lone star. Its strength you can not see, because it is hidden within. A black star? Hmmm...no light will come of it, maybe a single flame or even a spark. Give me the star so bright and I will hold it close so the world can see. Even though it shines, it has been through some things....things that are too much to share, things that makes me sit back in the rocking chair at Grandma Lena's country house and ponder, "Just what are these stars to me!" ~written by: Barbara Rene Wells-Bedenfield~

Lovingly yours,