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uncommon bond book

The Book of Possibilities

From Igor Brezhnev…a gentle spirit who is always filled with possibilities. Check this out…
what else is love?

questions with no immediate answers from the mind are alive, filled with possibility of experience. questions that in themselves hold a possibility of more questions perpetuate that possibility, saying rather boldly – one answer is not enough.


It will be me…

“When you feel something…like a whisper that hushes and lightly touches you…it will be me. It will always be me.” 

~excerpt from A Friend Request

“Common Bond”

“Common Bond”

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.

A Midwest Christmas Memory…

Our family Christmas officially began each year when we bundled up the boys and headed to the local tree farm in search of the “perfect” tree. My husband, two sons and I tramped through the snow and cold looking for just the right one and invariably ended up two hours later in front of the very first tree we picked out. After my “men” sawed the tree down, as I… motherly cautioned about severed fingers, arms and legs, my husband let the boys drive our Toyota van back to load the tree. The first year they took turns sitting on his lap, barely able to see above the steering wheel. In 1994, our last Midwest Christmas before moving to Arizona, the boys drove back on their own as we waited next to that final perfect tree.  ~ C. L. Gillmore

Eternal Reflections…

As a child I remember summers seemed so long. It was as if time slowed just for me. When school started in September, I had changed and May was a distant memory. I remember my Grandma’s words, “Time passes faster when you are older.” She was right. Now I hold fast to each passing day, reluctantly letting each one slide through my fingers, holding on to the minutes and hours and memories.

Eternal Reflections . . .

I watched as another new year slid quietly into place
Bumping out the old one painlessly and leaving not a trace.
Joys, loneliness and precious, precious time were simply just erased,
And now have joined my back road memories to cherish and embrace.

If someone would have told me just how quickly life slides by
I might have chosen differently, giving other paths a try.
But life is born of endless details and other dreams just simply die
A painless and unnoticed death.  No time to mourn or cry.

I’ve given life and given love as much as I had within me.
And deep inside I’ll always be that restless soul who runs free.
Who knows a single lifetime is not enough to dream, to love, to be.
For the human soul that dwells within us all was created for eternity.

By C L Gillmore, Copyright 2010




Virginia Rose

Pattern:  Virginia Rose

My grandma stood in front of the stove and lovingly cooked for me.
Wiping well-worn hands on her apron, and lifting me up to see.
Now as I hold her delicate china that image remains in my mind
Standing close, feeling her touch, remembering a face so kind.

Hot, crispy bacon and perfectly basted fried eggs
Log Cabin syrup spilled over stacked, crepe-thin pancakes
Quaker oatmeal and Cream of Wheat, drenched in milk and sugar
Hershey’s cocoa poured over giant puffy marshmallows
Raisin Brand from blue mason jars, always in the pantry
Golden brown fried chicken with mashed potatoes and chunky gravy
Freshly snapped green beans seasoned with leftover breakfast bacon
Smoked ham and great northern beans ladled over golden buttered corn bread
Homemade chicken and noodles with melt-in-your mouth dumplings
Fluffy tender biscuits slathered with freshly canned apple butter
Warm rhubarb and raisin pies tucked in delicate, flakey crusts
Softened raspberry ripple ice cream and crisp oatmeal raisin cookies

Now on Sundays I set our table with her china, Virginia Rose
And tell my family something about her so everyone one of them knows
That this meal, served on these dishes is my way of saying thank you
To Alice Gillmore, best cook and friend a granddaughter ever knew.

From Of Roots, Shoes and Rhymes by C. L. Gillmore
Copyright 2011

My Angel – Kellie Pickler

Personal Tapestry

Personal Tapestry

“Everything that happens and everyone we come in contact with during a lifetime becomes a part of our personal tapestry, woven into our fiber—weak and strong, resilient and fragile, colorful and subdued, fantasy and reality.  They all blend together into one final piece that covers us—comforts, protects and shelters us.  I was thankful to be able to look back and now forward and see so much of this.  Looking forward, I see that tapestry rests on our shoulders while still being able to take on new threads. The past is as important as the future in the weave of the fabric.  And fantasy and reality continue to be a necessity for our psyche.  You can’t get lost in either, but I knew from experience that a little of both keeps you sane.”

My quote from the novel Uncommon Bond…

by CL Gillmore

“Tapestry” by Carole King


Iowa’s Woodstock, the 1970 Wadena Rock Festival


I WAS 21 YEARS OLD and those three days are locked in my memories forever…the sounds, the smells, the electricity in the air, the friends, the music. It was magic…and I would write about it later—“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.”

Today in Wadena you don’t sense that 40 years ago this area was site of Iowa’s milestone rock festival with nearly 40,000 attending the three-day event, July 31-Aug. 2, 1970—Mason Proffitt, Johnny Winter, Little Richard, The Everly Brothers, Joan Baez, REO Speedwagon, POCO, Buffy Ste. Marie, Luther Allison & Albert King, The Flying Burrito Brothers.

Johnny Rivers – “Seventh Son”




Special friends are like flowers in an every growing bouquet, gathered one by one through out your life.  Each one unique within the arrangement…yet together make the loveliest remembrance.

Forever Sunflower Friends

Each and every letter I penned
Began in much the same way:
“On behalf of seventy special students today
Could you help and be a Sunflower’s Friend?

For over the years, our numbers have grown
And now we need a place of our own.
A place where wheelchairs can come and go,
And fragile friends can swing to and fro.

A place to explore on hand and knee,
With things to touch when eyes cannot see.
Where trickling waters and fine white sands
Sift and flow over stiff, small hands.

A place where a special child can just be a kid.
To watch, to play, to dream at their bid,
With the sun in their faces, and the wind in their hair.
Unique gifts from God’s hand with so much to share.

Words seem so inadequate and somehow don’t relay
Just how very thankful we are to all of you each day.
For you truly caught our vision, you truly saw their need.
And now you will ever be Forever Sunflower Friends, indeed!”

–    C L Gillmore Copyright 2010

Thank You For Being a Friend

Artists Featured at Art Show

On the evening of July 8 I attended an art show opening in Phoenix at the Dearing Acting Studio hosted by Matt and Leeanne Dearing. They were such gracious hosts and their studio was a perfect venue to showcase many talented artists, a jeweler, an author, musicians and photographers. Two of the artists, Igor Brezhnev and Kathryn Henneman had their art on display. Kathryn created the cover and interior art work and Igor did the graphic design and formatting for my poetry book, Of Roots, Shoes and Rhymes.

The studio reception area was bright and welcoming and led into a hallway that opened onto several separate rooms, including a theater, complete with theater chairs and a stage. The walls of the hallway and each room showcased each featured artist’s individual work. Jewelry, books and CDs were conveniently arranged on table displays. One of the larger back rooms was used as the hospitality room where even the food and drinks were artfully displayed…but soon gobbled up!

It was a lovely evening and I met with new artists, chatted with old friends, made some great new friends and networked…as I sipped a cool drink and munched on delicious refreshments. Who could ask for a better evening out?