My mom was an addict


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My Mom was an addict.

She left traces everywhere,
and didn’t seem to care
about the pieces she
whimsically strewn
here and there.

She couldn’t go out without partaking.
A true obsession in the making.

Everyone around her knew.
We kept her secret and never shared
the nitty, gritty details
of her sordid affairs.

You must have seen them,
they were everywhere,
in every shape and size.

There were pitchers, vases,
water goblets, cream and sugar bowls.
Dishes for candy and butter,
and pickles, and relish-yes, even relish.

Endless amounts of ashtrays, punch bowls,
cake plates, salt and pepper shakers, brandy decanters
(she never even drank brandy)

There were special
containers for olives and teeny, tiny
pearl white onions.

Everything you could
imagine was there.

So many patterns refracting the light,
amazing prisms of delight.
Designs of stars, diamonds, crests,
it was a beautiful cut glass world.

Today, as I look around,
I see sparkling reminders of the
light from my mothers eyes,
when she returned home with
another piece of cut glass heaven.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

The Present


I roamed the halls of my high school
year after endless year,
and watched as oodles of boys hung their
athletic arms adoringly over the shoulders
of their latest love……
Yins to each Yang–or so each hoped.

Life pushed on, and although I forgot,
delivered on a long ago prayer.
A shiny gift,
of true,
abiding Love.

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The Imperceptible Shift


And so it begins,
more of me and less of You,
trying to squash the fear in me,
unnerved by how it shows through.

Fear has pummeled my door.
Thick, icy layers
staunch and steadfast
wrapped tightly around my soul.

Less glancing up,
more searching within,
intentionally moving away,
I knowingly waiver.

Intentional masterminding,
controlling, calculating.
Less relying,
continuously believing.
Have I pushed you away?

I want to lean in and look up
but, my humaness takes over.
Swirling worldly emotions suck
me back to my own scheming.

Please invite me back.
I need a place to rest,
and unhitch my load.

A tiny vignette of eternal paradise
would surely do the trick,
A glimmer of Grace.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

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The House


The house we lived in was an average size, but as a kid I thought it was a palatial mansion. The house we lived in was filled with love. The house we lived in was overflowing with interesting characters that came and went through our front door and our lives. The house we lived in was warm and comfortable. The house we lived in was crazy at times, especially because my sister and I were always fighting, and I mean always. The house we lived in was a place to be yourself. The house we lived in was safe. The house we lived in was near a lake. The house we lived in had a septic system instead of city sewers, and that made me never want to live in another house with a septic system. The house we lived in was green when I was growing up, and then it turned blue. The house we lived in was filled with animals, all kind of animals, it was a safe place for animals. The house we lived in was always full. Full of people, full of food, full of clothes, full of love, full of tears, full of faith, full of laughter, full of secrets……full, full, full. The house we lived in was full of privilege. The house we lived in was generous, always generous. The house we lived in was filled with little “chetchkas” or trinkets that were never thrown out.

The house we lived in was never empty until that one ice cold day in December, when the house we lived in was emptied and silenced forever.

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