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by
Cynthia Schuerr

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by
Cynthia Schuerr

ONCE and FOREVER

by Cynthia Schuerr

I loved you in the long ago,


My heart was yours forever.


We shared life as sated as we might,


Tho, it really did not matter.


For, it ran away with the wind


Leaving my heart soaring.


The freedom of my soul,


Spun like a disc, out of control.


When will we intertwine?


Will we share this space again?


Will it happen?


Am I dreaming?


Can I just pretend?

Sky Clouds

by

Cynthia Schuerr

Bienvenido A Las Caletas

by Cynthia Schuerr

Interview with April's Pic 1 k winner - CYNTHIA SCHUERR!

*What inspired the story (other than the picture)?* I love the romance of covered bridges, always have. The true inspiration, however, was the movie, The Bridges of Madison County, starring Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood. I have always had a soft spot for lovers who were meant to be, but just couldn't seem to make it work. In my story, The Bridge of Dreams and Choices, my characters do make it work. Maybe, I am finally maturing. :-) *How long did it take to write?* I wrote it longhand, in roughly an hour. It wasn't until the next morning that I typed it up and gave it a final edit. *Have you had anything else published? If so, where?* Yes, I have a short story published in The Twelve Days of Christmas 2009 Anthology, a short story called, To Catch A Glimpse and many poems within the first four issues of Soft Whispers. I also have my Haiku published in the Soft Whispers Haiku Anthology. *Do you have a site? Facebook? Twitter? How can people follow you?* I do, Jim, thanks for asking! You can find me at http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com/. I am also on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/cindyschuerr and twitter http://www.twitter.com/cswriter59. *What are your plans for 2010?* My plans are to keep writing. I have a trilogy that I am working on called, A Sentimental Journey. I am planning to have Book One published in the fall of this year. Wish me luck!:-)

You can read Cindy's winning story, The Bridge of Dreams and Choices here!

An Odd Memory

by Cynthia Schuerr Ouch! I still remember that certain day When my brothers and I wanted to play Inside the house we ran and yelled Hi ‘O Silver and then I fell. I tripped over the wire that ran across the floor And hit my head on the molding of the door The blood poured out as my brothers scattered Dad came running to see “What’s the matter”. He picked me up; Carried me through the door To the doctor’s office, for he was sure I would bleed to death, his little girl. Ice and a butterfly bandage was all it took To bring all of this to a halt Still, years later, I have that scar But, all I can remember is being Daddy’s Star.

The Bridge of Dreams and Choices

by

Cynthia Schuerr

I sat across the river from the old covered bridge and admired the quaint beauty of it. As I lay back propped up on my elbows, the lush green grass tickled my bare legs. Spring was finally here. The trees were budding, but an overcast sky loomed, as if rain were on its way. The scent of the air revived my thoughts of last summer. It was stifling hot and muggy the day I first met him. He stood at the entrance of the bridge peering out at the landscape around him. I watched him as he sipped water from a bottle and then poured it over his head to cool himself. He wore a pair of jean cutoffs and his bronze muscular upper body glistened as the water trickled over his chest. I felt the need to touch him, to slip my hands over his moist shoulders and down across his frame. His eyes begged for my body to press against his and my mouth watered for the softness of his lips. “Liza,” I heard him shout. I whipped my head around toward the house. The spell was broken. My husband returned from the supply store and all at once, my dream had ended. I looked back to the bridge, but it stood empty and alone…..and so did I. Richard and I emptied the truck, putting the supplies in the barn. The horses neighed as we passed each stall. I could only picture the bronze, shirtless man on the bridge. His golden hair and sea mist green eyes etched in my memory, forever. I was sure Richard noticed the flush of my cheeks….the guilt in my heart. “Let’s go inside and I’ll make us some dinner.” He smiled, nodded and said he would help. We chatted about the day and the chores that we had accomplished. I mentioned how the weather co-operated with us today; no rain after all. God, we’ve resorted to talking about the weather. After dinner, Richard and I sat on the porch swing, both using our feet to push off and swing us. We were so, out of sync, that the task became difficult. Richard stopped the motion with his foot, abruptly stood up and walked over to the Adirondack to sit on, leaving me to swing freely. I didn’t know what to say, so we both sat silent. I am sad for us. Why is it, we can’t find what we once had? Richard is a wonderful man, a great provider……I have a barn with my horses, which I’ve always dreamed of and he gave that to me. Maybe, if we had bore children. Would we feel closer? I had hoped, waking to a new day, would bring different emotions. But, no, just more of the same. Richard and I went to the barn to feed the horses and clean up the stalls. At least, we still did that together. But, all I kept thinking about was the man on the bridge. I began to saddle up Whisper. “I’ll go with you.” “No!” I blurted out. The way I reacted must have felt like a kick to his stomach. “Didn’t you plan to replace that broken lath on the porch step?” I smiled at him hoping to soften the blow. “We really need to get that done today before one of us falls through and breaks a leg.” “Yeah, I guess your right. Have a nice ride.” Everything I said to Richard, lately, riddled me with guilt. I intended, however, to ride away those feelings on Whisper. I gripped her with my thighs and kicked her side until I could feel the wind wash away the guilt and free my heart. The trees whipped by and I hung on to the reins, closed my eyes and gave control to Whisper. She knew where I wanted to be. As I rode, I could only think of him. The electrifying zap I felt when he touched my skin. Life became real with him and I’d breathed heavier than I’d ever without him. My lungs filled with lust. The soft cotton T-shirt tightened against my breasts and massaged them as Whisper’s motion carried me. I opened my eyes. I was in my favorite place, the old covered bridge. He watched, as I cantered and my body moved to the rhythm of the horse. I could see his breathing quicken. I stopped, and sat atop Whisper. Slowly, he walked toward me, naked, except for his cutoffs. He put his hands around my calf. He removed my boot and I lifted the other leg over so he could remove that one, too. With his arms waiting for me, I leaned over and slowly, with his guidance, my body skimmed his, on the way down. Paralyzed, except for breathing, we searched each other’s eyes. He took my hand and led me to a blanket he’d laid out for us. I wanted him to go on and thought I would bake in the heat between us. He kissed my ear and then my neck. I felt his hand on the small of my back…….and then a coolness. “Hey, are you OK, Liza?” It was Richard’s voice. I opened my eyes and glanced around me as I sat up. “Yes, yes, I’m OK. I must have dozed off out here. What time is it?” “Well, it’s 1:30 already. When you didn’t come back for lunch, I got worried.” “I’m sorry I worried you. I don’t know what’s going on with me lately.” “There is nothing wrong with you, Liza. It’s me. I don’t give you the attention you deserve. But, I’m gonna change that right now.” He knelt down next to me, swept the hair from my eyes and kissed my lips. He told me he loved me. He said he wanted me. We chose to fall in love again and we did. “I think this old bridge needs a fresh coat of paint. What do you think?” “Whatever, you say, Richard.”

Where Are You

by Cynthia Schuerr

She cared for her With a mother’s heart Though they were only A decade apart They hugged as they slept On one small cot Sharing a pillow and a tear Cringing at the noise Covering their ears Pretending to sleep The words were loud And cut so deep An abusive time With each other’s love They grew close Then life changed New lives began Their paths were severed Moving toward a better day Lives changed forever She laid her head upon The soft mound of fluff That was solely hers And her heart beat alone.

Opulence of Nature

by

Cynthia Schuerr

Aerobics for the Heart

by Cynthia Schuerr Why did you make me wait so long? Your little feet pattered with your arms overhead You looked up to touch my heart. It melted. Why did you make me wait so long? The wheels turned and without fault Off to a new world without me. My heart fluttered. Why did you make me wait so long? The aisle was white and the air was warm When you joined with her, two hearts in one Mine swelled Why did you make me wait so long? They chased after you when you left for work You bent down on one knee and said, “Daddy will be home soon.” You kissed their heads and hugged them tight They smiled wide and their eyes grew bright Why did you make me wait so long, my son? To see the man you would become.

Meet Cynthia Schuerr!

Cynthia A. Schuerr, born and raised in the Midwest, has been a lover of books and of writing for many years. She began writing short stories for her grandchildren to enjoy. Recently published in the “12 Days 2009 Anthology”, edited by Jim Wisneski, you will also find her contributions of poems and short stories at http://www.softwhisp.blogspot.com/. She is a writer for http://www.examiner.com/x-37326-Kenosha-County-Grandparenting-Examiner in the family/parenting section and is currently working on two separate novels in her spare time. Her blog http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com/, is where you can find bits and pieces of what defines her.

Just a Teardrop Away

by Cynthia Schuerr I knew no man with a warmer heart A giving nature was just one part With sadness in his eyes And a smile on his face With a pain in his heart That years could not erase At times we were close Never too far away He gave comfort with a hug And hope for a new day I pray that he knew of my love for him From a daughter to a Dad And from deep within The time that we shared Brought us laughter and tears Always appropriate through the years Life still goes on, Dad Though you're not here But I'll never forget your love Not for a minute, a day or a year

To Catch a Glimpse

by

Cynthia Schuerr

She flittered and flew through the woods like a firefly. She glistened and glowed in the dark of night, while her wispy wings moved her, in and around the limbs of the trees. The wind shifted and her form wavered like a flame in the breeze. She played in a make believe world, which she created. The next downturned wind carried Gwendolyn just outside the trees that lined her backyard. It was late, but she often stayed out until dark and waited for Mother’s call. Why hasn’t Mother called? Gwendolyn, a girl without friends, often occupied unreal places. Eight years young, she learned to entertain herself. She never met her father and her mother was lost in her own private made up world. Neither one shared their world with the other. Many times, Gwendolyn watched Mother dance around the living room, pretending to be anywhere but where she was. Gwendolyn wished she could go there, too, but she had never been invited. Floating like a feather, back to reality, she heard a sound coming from behind a dense cluster of trees. The sound of twigs snapping, one after another, so slowly at first….. “Who’s there?” Gwendolyn shuddered and held her breath. No one answered. The twigs snapped faster and louder, closer and closer they came. She gasped and ran toward the house. Her little steps were no match for the ones coming up behind her. She could here him breathing as clear as she could hear her own breath. She could smell the stale tobacco. A tug at her wing and a calloused hand on her shoulder…….finally she pulled away. “Gwendolyn, it’s time for dinner.” She ran through the trees, relieved to hear her mother’s voice. She knocked open the gate and it slammed hard behind her. The front door still out of reach, she tore up the brick pathway. Gasping for air, she opened the door and with a quick turn of her head, glanced back over her shoulder. No one followed her. She leaned back on the door and gasped until she was able to breathe. She glided passed the mirror in the hallway and her reflection was gone. Gwendolyn stood in the doorway of the kitchen. The light above the sink cast a shadow over the room. The warmth of the stove and the aroma of chicken broth and mushrooms were all too familiar. Mother looked up at her with a soft and welcoming smile. “Please remove your wings, dear, before coming to the table,” she heard Mother say. A single teardrop skimmed her cheek. The tear was for Mother, who was suffering her loss. Mother sat at the table set for two and dished out the chicken tetrazzini, Gwendolyn’s favorite. It had been two months, since Mother called her to come inside for dinner, but she never came. Mother looked for her, but she was nowhere to be found. She trembled at the thought of what might have happened to her little girl. She prayed that it did not. She mends the tear in the wing, repeatedly, waiting for Gwendolyn to return. She sits at the table that is set for two. “Gwendolyn, I’ve sewn your wing,” she sings. “Come here, my girl. Where are you?” Looking across the room with empty eyes, her tears suspended in time. She lives in a world where Gwendolyn lived, but lives no longer. It had been months, since Gwendolyn disappeared. Mother peers out the window for hours at a time, waiting and waiting for her daughter to come running home. No one visits her. Neighbors back away with a look of pity, or perhaps, fear. When Mother isn’t staring out the window, she is preparing Gwendolyn’s favorite meal or repairing the tattered wing. Night after night, she looks to the glow of light for comfort. The knock at the door, that she knew would come one day, brought her back from where she hides. She let them in. The county police shared the information they had just uncovered. She listened. Their mouths moved and she could see the sadness and caring in their eyes. She couldn’t hear…. or wouldn’t hear……their words. Little Gwendolyn must have felt so frightened and alone. Where was her mother? Why didn’t she call? If only she had called….. but, she didn’t. Mother will now live with the sadness and the guilt. The neighborhood will continue to shun her and Gwendolyn will watch her as she stares into the darkness of the night. One day, she will invite Mother to join in her new world…..when the time is right. Mother dances, no longer. Instead, she will wait to catch a glimpse of her firefly.

Want to see creativity at its best?

I posted a picture yesterday and left the comments open for thoughts, ideas, or poetry. Maria Kelly and Cindy Schuerr took me up on my offer and each wrote beautiful poetry based on the picture.

This is the EXACT purpose I wanted to start Soft Whispers - to share writing, poetry, and art AND get everyone involved. So a big thank you to everyone so far that has visited the site and an even bigger thank you to Maria and Cindy! And please, anyone out there in the world, please feel free to share your thoughts, ideas, and poetry. . . it may just get published here! :)

Exposed by Cynthia Schuerr

Forever by Maria Kelly

Exposed

by

Cynthia Schuerr

A secret is meant

To be shared by two

So how long must we wait

To make it true

I would give a lifetime

To share with the world

My feelings for you

But who's to know

If our secretIs hidden away

If we cannot tell

Of our love

Then what can it mean

To either of us