I am not sorry
for being all thunder
and no rain
cwpoet
I imagine that the gift of aging brings
about all kinds of musings, imaginings,
thoughts, wanted and unwanted, as
well as actual break throughs.
I have come to realize that I indulge in
a bit of pontificating . . . okay, a great
deal of pontificating. In the interest of
total honesty, I'd have to say I like to
talk.
I can remember taking drives with
my parents as a kid. Dad would say,
"Alright Linda-Dale, no talking for
the next 30 minutes." My parents
must have died and gone to heaven
in that short time of peace and quiet.
As long as I'm confessing to my
verbal crimes, I may as well admit
to being somewhat opinionated.
I'm working on it though. My adult
aims are to learn to be quiet, to listen,
and spare my friends from so much
verbiage.
I do get that I may be exhausting
any excessive spouting via FB.
Ouch! Apologies ahoy . . .
Thunder, hear me roar . . .
yak yak yak yak yak
how i long for some quiet
where are you silence
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