Storetry # 6: It’s Here! A Collaboration Challenge for Poets and Writers. Get published.


Welcome to Stuff It Tuesdays:  The Storetry Collaboration Challenge

I’d like to thank everyone for the fabulous contributions.  I really enjoy reading all of the submissions and putting the ‘Storetry’ (a word that I created, part story, part poetry) together.  I only wish I had more time to spend on it!

This is my sixth installment of the Stuff It Tuesday ‘Storetry’ Collaboration Challenge.

I plan to do four more installments and then decide from that point how often I will continue to do it.  The first 10 ‘Storetries’ will be included in a free e Book that I will be publishing later this summer with everyone’s submission and links to their blogs.

Please circulate this around, through Twitter, facebook. Google +, re blogging etc so that as many people as possible can get into this book!  I would love it if everyone that follows my blog could call them selves ‘published’.


Below you will find each person’s submission followed by a link to their blog below what they submitted.  Please read over the links to help make the ‘storetry ‘flow.  The idea is to read it as a story.  I provide the opening and closing paragraph and verse so there will not be a link below my submission.  Please click on the links of the submissions you enjoyed to check out everyone’s blogs and to find more of their writing.

Tomorrow (Wed. June 12th) I will release a post with the content for next weeks ‘Storetry’.  I always use the same format for each ‘storetry’ I just use different story premises each week.  You can also find a permanent information link about Stuff it Tuesday on my homepage next to my ‘about me’ and copyright page tabs.

Thanks again I appreciate your participation and continued support!


Storetry # 6  The Lessons I’ve Learned

As she lay in the hospital bed, pen in hand she thought long and hard about the things that she wanted to say.  The end was near.  She could feel her spirit slipping.  She kept putting off the weighty task of this book but she knew that now was the time to begin.

“Who’s there?” Juliana asked, more forcefully than she had intended, as she looked at the light slipping through the crack of the open door. A cold breeze came in through the window and chilled her, giving her goose bumps on her arms. Juliana was frightened. She knew that her fate was inevitable.




As her pen hovered over her writing pad, her mind embarked on a journey to when things were better, when she did not have to deal with so much pain. She smiled to herself, a wry smile which brought a solitary tear to her eye. She blinked away the tear and stilled her shaking betraying hands. She had to put down the first word in the first sentence of this book if she was going to live her dream. The more she thought about where to start, the more difficult it was to begin, she closed her eyes and when she opened it she knew where to start. 

Pedaling backwards, as if to rewind
The projections she’d failed to create
Self-belief close, yet just out of touch
Her intuitive mind’s affiliate

Death now peers in from the window I spent decades gazing out of.
I find I can now at least glance in it’s direction without trembling.
Peace arrived the instant I stopped trying to avoid the end of my story.
I have found joy these last several years in fully living out this glorious story.
Alas, the window has been opened; I am ready for this new chapter to begin.

Invite yourself in

your own love to win,

an intimate romance

in which you will find balance

weave flowers in your hair

another’s tears help care

let your toes be hugged my grass

and water your roots with class


Holding the pill under her tongue
Lesson one becomes undone
Lesson two is clear
What you say
And what you do
Collide in hypocrisy

Never sleep on lingering words of anger.

Be sure to admit when you are wrong.

Don’t be afraid to show feelings of love and

Take care with the hearts of others.

Accept what is my path for this cannot be changed

And know that I leave you only in the now.‏

I’ve learned that children should be seen and heard and embraced

if not with arms then with thoughts

every second of their days

Never take for granted

the softness of a baby’s cheek,

the tight grip of tiny fingers around your thumb,

the silkiness of her hair,

the heft of her weight in your arms as you hold her for the first time,

the dark wide trusting eyes

that peer into yours, as if to say

“Why am I here if not for you to love me?”

I’ve learned this through loss and through believing there would always be a tomorrow



 That should be the heart of the book. It should read and bleed the truth.

 But about whom? And from whose perspective? Herself? Her own?

 She knew better.

 She wished an IV were inserted and taped to the pen she held. And that the IV solution was the Truth of her life and those around her.

 And, that it would be received in the same manner it was inked: in humility — with a sense of the apologetic. But also with the verve of hope at leaving a written legacy that would, somehow, alter the course of the reader for the good.

She closed her eyes to better envision those she wanted to read her words. Those she wanted to somehow alter the course of their lives.

 From the dying, to the living, so that the living could live and not die as she had.


I learned to walk, to speak in time

And grew in body heart and mind

I sought and found a love divine

I prayed for you, for love in kind

You brought companionship to me

Confirming love is all we need.

Are all inside my head

Thinking of them now as I lay here for the last very time in the softest bed

My life now seen in flashback, every moment the sweetest gift

And the lessons that I have learned now about me seem to drift

Time fleeting, we never truly know just how long we’ve got

But all these words, these thoughts, theses lessons, from my pen do trot

Like the horse I first rode as a child, then as an adult, through the tall grass of majestic rich green field

Swift and sure, enjoyable, from the first to the last lesson, I pray my words may heal

Life has no class-room, no rules, just guidelines all so true, full of many moments all of them a steal

The lessons that we all shall learn, so many all to ourselves unique

The main points of interest are the ones that always get our pique

The value of a smile

The power of a laugh

The gift of precious memory

That you should never do things by half

That love is the greatest healer

That hurts none but you

Pain has its worth, no matter the hurt or how sad you do become

That each moment is a lesson taught when all is said and done

The words poured from her mind, rushing through her hand, where the pen danced across and down. The pages greedily drank in the ink and she smirked, but did not pause in her work, at the thought that perhaps her life was slipping away even as her writing instrument was running dry. Would the two eventualities occur simultaneously? The pen, and the words forming beneath, waltzed on.


Here and now brings forth a terrible sight

With quiet company,

My heart beat drifts & my breaths skip,

My pen strokes tremble writing this goodbye

So my love can linger after I seek the sky

The white sheets

shall put my soul to rest,

As clouds come in and lightening strikes

I find my solace within the dark

Wishing to stay

but knowing I must part

Here I end,

while tomorrow begins, a sun shall rise after one falls

Remember not death but the singing of my song.


These lessons I’ve learned

Will be the last of me,

Wisdom that will linger after I’m dead and gone

Let these last words,

Be remembered,

As my commemorative song





  1. Pingback: Storetry # 7: It’s Here! A Collaboration Challenge for Poets and Writers. Get published. | Writings of a Mrs
  2. Pingback: ‘Storetry’ ebook Addition: A Duet, Write and Get Published with me | Writings of a Mrs

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