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Monthly Archives: April 2012

Chocolate Sprinkles…

Excerpt from A FRIEND REQUEST by C L Gillmore
sequel novel to UNCOMMON BOND

I don’t know how long I slept sitting propped up against the wall, a couple of hours maybe, but I woke up to a knock at the door. Maybe it was the the apartment manager, with the extra key Ren and I asked for.

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Children and literature.


“It is only by introducing the young to great literature, drama and music, and to the excitement of great science that we open to them the possibilities that lie within the human spirit — enable them to see visions and dream dreams.” Eric Anderson

Uncommon Bond

COMMON BOND
By ~ C.L. Gillmore

The shadowed streaks of twilight slip silently away
And tuck behind the mountains to mark another day.
Now leaving just the night sounds to whisper and remind
Of magical trips and trusted friends, lost and left behind.

To a time when only dreams had the power to transcend
And bring us together, beyond the unrest, one by one as friends.
Kindred souls, sharing a moment, bound by love and freedom.
Moved by the words and music…we danced to a different drum.

Those days and nights are forever etched deep within my heart.
I see their faces, hear their voices, though so many years apart.
Their love and friendship, counsel and humor, are a part of what I say.
And nudge me now so gently with thoughts I write each day.

I wish I would have realized those many years ago
Our moment was just an instant in the lives we were to know.
I could have brushed a farewell kiss as I gazed into each face.
But one by one, we left not knowing we had shared our last embrace.

“Beloved Most Imagine”

PAINTINGS AND POETRY

We hope you are enjoying our monthly presentation, our gift to you.

“Beloved Most Imagine “
by Kathryn Henneman 

48×60 mixed media on canvas

Beautiful, Bell-Bottomed Boy”

Shirtless, bronzed, bell-bottomed boy,
Beautiful, young and lean.
Soft, silken, coffee-brown hair,
Wind-swept, wild and free.

Graceful, fluid, out-stretched arms,
Expressive, gentle hands.
Lovely, curved, sensuous hips
Legs strong, slender and tan.

Rocked by the gods of music and freedom,
Swaying in rhythmic jubilation,
High on life and love’s sweet passion,
He danced for her in celebration.

One girl alone was hypnotized.
Her vision spanned over crowd faces
To link with his piercing blue eyes
And to put her own feet in his paces.

Gone are the days of the young summer sultan
And the girl who watched him with joy.
He dances forever within her heart
Beautiful, bell-bottomed boy.

~ by C. L. Gillmore

Kathryn’s paintings and Cheryl’s poetry will soon be available in note cards and will comprise a twelve-month calendar for next year…2013!

I carried my life around with me…in a notebook.

~Excerpt from A Friend Request,
a romance novel by C L Gillmore

“I carried my life around with me…in a notebook.

Writing my thoughts and feelings was something I’d done
… from a very young age. I needed to write and I needed to read what I wrote. It was hard to explain even to myself.

Writing provided two outlets for me. One allowed me to fantasize and escape the reality of my life. The other kept me in touch with the person I was deep inside…the part of me that didn’t want to leave the fantasy world the other created.

It was important for me to stay in touch with me, with Rose Allyson. It was important for me to stay in touch with reality.”

Beautiful, Bell-Bottomed Boy


Shirtless, bronzed, bell-bottomed boy,
Beautiful, young and lean.
Soft, silken coffee-brown hair,
Wind-swept, wild and free.

Graceful, fluid, outstretched arms,
Expressive, gentle hands.
Lovely, curved, sensuous hips,
Legs strong, slender and tan.

Rocked by the gods of music and freedom,
Swaying in rhythmic jubilation.
High on life and love’s sweet passion,
He danced for her in celebration.

One girl alone was hypnotized,
In the midst of a thousand faces.
Her eyes linked to his piercing blue eyes,
And put her own feet in his paces.

Gone are the days of the young summer sultan,
And the girl who watched him with joy.
He dances forever within her heart,
Beautiful bell-bottomed boy.

By C.L. Gillmore

Never-Ending Easter Egg Hunt…


This past Easter Sunday our two sons and their families joined us for the traditional ham dinner accompanied by scalloped potatoes, baked beans, homemade rolls and strawberry shortcake for dessert. You’d thi…nk after all the years and all the hams I would get a different menu request, but the food still gets rave reviews and of course, the price is always right at Mom’s Diner.

While most of the ham-comatosed adults sprawled into wicker furniture on the back patio—the Grand Prix, the Triple Crown, the Main Event, the one reason children get out of bed and trudge to Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Easter—the EASTER EGG HUNT was about to begin in the back yard.

Participants included five excited, noisy, already sugar-high grandchildren—two boys, three girls, under the age of 9—plus one lumbering bulldog named Gracie and Pitty Pat our French bulldog, the brains of the operation. Both canines stood by ready to snatch and gobble any and all dropped eggs, eggshells, candy and/or wrappers.

Grandpa’s two assignments included sending each child onward and upward to hunt at scheduled time intervals according to age. The other was to point out eggs for the two youngest to find and plop into their baskets before they were all snatched up by the three older veteran egg hunters of Easters’ past.

Grandma’s assignment—besides cleaning, cooking, clearing, washing, boiling, decorating, hiding and cleaning again—was taking pictures. I am and have been the family photographer for as long as I can remember. This might explain why there are no pictures of Grandma for the past 40 years.

The orchestrated chaos of exuberant, energetic children flitting here, there and everywhere—searching for those precious, colored eggs—lasted for a record 35 minutes! Sixty eggs hidden and 58 eggs recovered. Two eggs were recovered and eaten by the ever vigilant, ever-patient Gracie and Pitty Pat.

The children were then seated and arranged appropriately on the grass for picture taking and the bestowing of Easter baskets. The adults looked on, the dogs continued to circle, and Easter grass flew in every direction. Chocolate bunnies were unwrapped and devoured, entire rows of pastel Peeps lost their heads and tails, miniature candy bars dropped from quickly opened plastic eggs, Fun-Dip was licked and dipped and left behind on little red, green and purple tongues, and silver dollars were stashed into deep pockets.

As we watched these five happy children enjoying this beautiful Easter Day, Jaxson, the oldest at age nine, stopped and looked up from his basket. We watched as he scanned the yard in every direction. Next he looked at each of his cousins and sisters who were still sitting contentedly, sampling goodies from their baskets. Finally he looked at all of us adults, still seated on the patio, and asked in all sincerity, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have an Easter egg hunt where you never run out of eggs to find?”

Now wouldn’t that be ever so nice? May we never run out of Easter eggs to find nor the desire in our hearts to keep looking.

Where is home for a bumblebee?

~Excerpt from “Childhood Sanctuary” by C L Gillmore

Next to the porch steps is Grandpa’s rock garden where red, yellow, pink and deep purple tulips nestle amid orange and yellow daylilies. Grandpa has all different shapes, sizes and colors of rocks that he and Grandma collected. I love to sit next to him and listen to the stories about where the rocks came from. The two, big sparkly rocks in the corner are from Grandma’s backyard in Minnesota the day they got married. Grandpa says Grandma was ‘pretty as a picture’ with her long, dark hair tied up with ribbons and flowers that day. Her hair is white now…so is Grandpa’s. I wonder how long it takes for your hair to turn white?

The rock garden is the favorite gathering place for black and yellow bumblebees to “bumble” around. Grandpa catches one for me inside a blue Mason jar and quickly replaces the lid. He holds it to my ear. I can hear the bumblebee buzzing and flying against the sides. We watch it for a few minutes and then Grandpa unscrews the jar lid and sets it free—free to fly back home. Where is home for a bumblebee?

A big tease…

Okay, C.L. Gillmore Fans! I know I’m being a big tease but just read the prologue and first three chapters of the sequel novel, One Final Season…LOVE IT!! Truly!!!!!!!! You’re in for a huge treat AND I think I like this even better than the first one. I’m hooked and need more. Mean? Yes, but I don’t think it’ll be long before we all get to read the whole book! Whoo-Hoo! Nice work, Cheryl! A privilege to call you friend. Bravo!

Deborah Summers

Rhubarb leaf hats…

~Excerpt from “Childhood Sanctuary” by C L Gillmore

“I leave the stone steps behind and follow the well-worn path deeper into the backyard as it meanders beneath the blossoming apple, pear and persimmon trees. I feel the wind in my hair as pink and white blossoms rain down on me and cover the path beneath my feet.

I stop, close my eyes and daydream.

I am the princess bride, dressed in a long, lacy white gown, walking down the aisle to meet my prince. He is tall and handsome and dressed in lovely clothes. He sweeps me up onto his white horse and carries me far away. We live happily ever after.

Dreamers always live happily ever after.

Smiling, I open my eyes and continue walking the blossom-covered path that ends at the rhubarb patch. Grandpa calls it rhubarb. Grandma calls it pie plant. Maybe it’s because she makes really yummy strawberry-rhubarb pies from it.

The big clumps of rhubarb grow in two, long staggered lines, one in front of the other. The thick red stalks look like celery and each is topped with a huge, dark green ruffled leaf. Grandpa says the leaves are poisonous and never to eat them…so instead, I make lovely, giant rhubarb leaf hats for me and Grandma and the cat.”