The Heart of a Wellston Tiger, 1

Just thought that I would clarify what had I posted about my writings that will eventually become books.  All, some, most or none of my words on any given post may or may not make it into the books, plus they have to be accepted by a publisher. I just thought that if I put the words out there and you guys  give me feedback then hopefully I will know which direction to write.

With that being said, alot of you know that I was born in Oklahoma City but moved with the rest of my family to Wellston, Oklahoma, when I was a year old.  We actually lived at Rt.1, Wellston.  I believe that this was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I grew up roaming 160 acres, had neighbors that felt like family, they certainly were allowed to discipline me if needed. We had cows, horses, chickens, roosters, vegetables out of the garden, pecan trees and a creek bed that was a delight to explore.  Then there was the town.  It housed the school, the drug store, the Y drive in, laundry mat, a church on every corner and if someone didn't know your name, they knew where you belonged.  I am hoping my writings will become a book filled with memories, mostly wonderful but a few sad, of growing up in the sixties and seventies in a town that I loved and embraced.

I did a book signing at the (new) Wellston elementary school in 2008.  This was not long after my first children's book was released and I had a wonderful time.  I told stories to each class about things that had happened to me when I was in their same grade and one boy told me that I needed to write a book about growing up in Wellston. It was an idea that grew and will not quit until I make it a reality.  I am hoping that it will be a book that children as well as adults will read.

I wrote this poem in the fall of 2005 after looking at a picture that showed the house, the pine trees, the fields and my dad and it will be either in the forward or on the last page of the book.


                                   Picture of My Childhood Home
                                   
                                   Standing afar but looking in
                                   Rolling down the hill like a kaleidoscope
                                   Touching the pine trees that stand like sentinels
                                   Guarding swaying, keeping us in

                                   Crawling to the house I try to stand
                                    I want to peek but
                                   Windows like secrets forbid my gaze

                                    Reaching out to touch, shivers flood my soul
                                    Turning to go sorrow mounts, till
                                    Whispers like angels give reprieve as
                                     I hear my name

Feel free to give me feedback and if you are from Wellston, give me your memories and if they fit with mine they just might make it into the book!