Saturday, February 26, 2011

Mrs. Chicken Goes to School

For weeks I had been going to the drug store drooling with want for Mrs. Chicken. To wait so long to get what you want and then the heart break of an accident.  I wanted that chicken, that wonderful bright yellow plastic chicken with the orange feet.  What wonderful feet with chicken toes spread wide shining in the light.  But the best part was when you pushed her back – pop - she laid eggs.   Well not real eggs, marbles but to a first grade imagination they were eggs; white and black round eggs.

Mother said not to take Mrs. Chicken to school, but I wanted to be the envy of my classmates.  The teacher was late that morning so a ‘big’ eighth grader watched over the class.  I sat at my desk with Mrs. Chicken sitting attentively waiting for the day to begin.

Well I guess eighth graders love marble-laying chickens too.  The ‘big’ eighth grader was right over to my desk so excited to see the marble eggs being laid.   No one knew plastic breaks if you press it to hard.  Crack! The beautiful orange feet broke right off.  ‘Big’ eighth grader was very upset; I was in shock. The big eighth grader apologized saying she would replace Mrs. Chicken.  Sadly Mrs. Chicken was laid to rest in the metal lunch box. I moved ahead with the day of learning grieving in my heart for my dearly loved chicken.

Lunchtime came and I mournfully opened my lunch box.  Milk had leaked out of my thermos bottle and had moistened the lid of the metal box.  Horror of all horrors, there they were bright orange toes spread out wide; chicken feet stuck to the inside top of the box. An image that haunts me to this day, every time I eat a chicken drumstick I look at the footless leg tears run down my cheeks as I think of poor Mrs. Chicken.

©  2011 Eileen A Partak

Friday, February 18, 2011

Foreign Attractions

When I first told my family about Marty and moving away with him they didn’t believe me.  Yes, I was in love again.  This new man from a foreign land hypnotized me, which was the reason my family was hesitant.

I was divorced four years ago. Alone struggling with a full time job and a child to nurture I did not think it was possible for me, Bekka Freemont, to find the time or the opportunity to fall in love again.

But one day I ran into him, I mean I really ran into him. I was running across the supermarket parking lot pushing my overflowing cart of groceries. I was already late to pick up my daughter, Sasha, from daycare.  Bam! – My cart came to an abrupt halt.   I nearly fell over backwards and there standing in front of me, with the cart resting on his foot, was the most captivating man I had ever seen.

He was very tall and thin with long arms and legs.  He had a sculptured face with a light complexion and large dark eyes, and he was bald.  I mean this man was not the type I was normally attracted to.

“Oh excuse me. I am so sorry, I can be such a klutz at times,” I apologized, unable to take my eyes off him.

“No problem.  Not every day I am run over by such a pretty klutz,” he said in a slow deep voice with an accent I didn’t recognize.

He introduced himself to me as Marty Tharsis and explained he had recently arrived in this country to study.  He helped me with my groceries and asked if we could meet for coffee sometime.  Of course I jumped at the opportunity. “Yes,” I said hoping I didn’t sound too anxious.

Our relationship grew rapidly.  I enjoyed telling Marty about our culture and showing him the sites.  He thoroughly enjoyed the food; he said there was nothing like it where he came from.  I laughed hysterically as he savored a bacon cheeseburger at the Burger Hut as if he had been dining on rare Ossetra caviar at a five star restaurant.  He was so amazed at everything he saw and I loved being the one to introduce him to our way of life, after all he was here to study and I felt like his teacher.

After six months he said he must return home soon.  That is when he asked me to go with him.   I was excited then scared. Why shouldn’t I go, I was head over heels in love with this wonderful man. He loved me and he loved my daughter, he was the man of my dreams. He came to a foreign land completely alone and survived, so why couldn’t I go to his land.  I would be going with him, he would show me and teach me the local customs so I shouldn’t be scared.

“I will go with you.  I will go anywhere to be with you.”

Telling my family that Sasha and me were moving away with Marty was a difficult task.
“Mama, Dad, you have no idea how hard it is to find a wonderful man like Marty.  He is great with Sasha and she just loves him, I love him and he loves us both,” I tried desperately to explain this to them as they sorrowfully thought of losing their only daughter and granddaughter.

“Bekka Honey,” Mama pleaded, “moving to a foreign land with a five year old, not knowing the culture or the language, that is going to be such a hardship.  And it is so, so far away we will never see the both of you again,” with this Mama burst into tears.

I explained what a wonderful opportunity it would be for Sasha to learn about this culture.  How lucky she would be to grow up in this other land.  The both of us would never have an opportunity like this again.  And for me, I felt I would never find another man to love like I loved Marty.

They reluctantly gave us their blessing and came to see us off on the long six-month trip to our new home.

And that’s how I ended up living on Mars.  Yes, Marty is Martian.

© 2008 Eileen A Partak

Spring Promise

Spring sun shining
birds busy nesting
dark long winter days over
Now hope for happiness
to fill days with warmth

© 2010 Eileen A Partak

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Parallel Life

Looking to find the path
to move from this life I am in
where hearts can live as one

Parallel life is for lovers
Lovers like me and like you
Yearning for love that is true

Life filled with passion
our souls free to embrace
sharing the love that is ours

Life and love have many parts
find the path that leads to me
to share our parallel life

©  2011 Eileen A Partak

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Cow Wishes

The scent of sizzling bacon greeted Fred as it did every morning, nothing changes.  He paused as he walked into the kitchen and glanced over at his wife Martha.  He hurriedly went out the door towards the dairy barn. He could hear Martha yelling after him.

“Don’t dilly dally milking those cows. And don’t you bring dirt in on your shoes again.”   Nag, that is all she ever did Fred thought. In forty years of marriage they never had a decent conversation.  How he envied those men who had wives who would talk and listen to them.

Fred reached the old red barn as the golden sunbeams danced their morning dance with the horizon. The old oversized door opened with a lazy creaking sound.  Clover, his oldest Guernsey looked up as he entered the barn.  Hooking her up to the milking machine he looked into Clover’s big brown eyes.

“Well old girl you always listen to me.  I wish you loved talking to this old man and I wish old Martha would just shut up and never speak again.”

“Fred I always love listening to you.  I look forward to our early morning conversations.”  Clover said with a twinkle in her eye.

Fred shook his head in amazement.  “I must be crazy.  Are you talking to me Clover?”

“Silly man, of course I am.  You wanted me to talk to you.  I am a magic cow, I’ve granted your wish.  We have had a rather close relationship over the years, this can bring us closer.”

Fred stood in shock, shaking his head in disbelief staring back at the cow.  He turned and ran to the kitchen to tell Martha.   When he entered he saw the frying skillet on a grease-covered floor and Martha standing holding her throat with a terrified look on her face.  She looked at him, her face pale as a ghost and mouthed silent words; I can’t talk formed on her lips.

Next day the scent of sizzling bacon greeted Fred like every morning, but things change.   Fred whistled a happy tune as he walked with a little jump in his step.  He smiled and nodded to Martha as she stood silently cooking breakfast.

“On my way to the barn.   I’ll be as long as I like.”

Fred entered the barn with eagerness as the cock sitting on the fence crowed at morning’s first light bring in the new day.

“Good morning Clover my dear.” Fred cheerfully greeted the brown cow.

“Good morning to you Fred, I hope you slept well.  I missed you.”  Clover said with a flutter of her big brown eyes.

“Oh Clover, I missed you too.  I wish you were my wife and we could talk all day every day,” Fred said has he put his arms around the cow’s neck.

Martha wondered what was taking Fred so long with the milking today; he had been gone for hours.  She went out to the barn, but he was nowhere to be found.  The milking machine had never been hooked up and the cows were looking at her with a restless eagerness.

Clover was not in the stall where she was kept.  Martha heard strange sounds from the back of the barn and headed toward the noise.  Clover stood in the back work area and looked up at Martha with a startled expression.   Martha looked and then looked again at the huge dark form at the back of the barn.

“Now where did that big black bull come from?”

© 2008 Eileen A Partak

Solid Existance

Thinking - watching the snow fall like cotton puffs being tossed before a fan. A certain beauty this winter wonderland is as I sit searching for warmth in the coffee shop –watching-listening to the chatter of humanity. I try to write – try to create as I sit on the outside being part of it all but still only an observer. Embracing it all, my words are my warmth on a cold winter day; they warm me and keep me safe as no person can.

I can live with only myself, with an occasional meeting with friends and loved ones, but my total comfort comes from within. I pity the soul who cannot be content with self. It took me many years, many decades to get here, at peace with me.

The snow is collecting like many experiences and relationships in life.  As we collect them many stick, but ever so many just melt away. I want to keep the solid ones, as stones these will stay and not melt away. Those that melt should not be mourned, as the melted snow is never thought of again.

© 2011 Eileen A Partak

Monday, February 14, 2011


Love waiting and growing
my bed ready to possess this uncontrolled passion
Calling my lover to come unleash my expanding desire
I am not the master of my desire and lust
he is the only one to quench this fire deep inside
The fire of love consuming every inch of my body
Every corner of my mind
Every chamber of my heart
He is the owner of my desire
Lust growing with every thought of him

© 2009 Eileen A Partak

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Waiting Room

My life sits in a waiting room

Isolated from the rest

in dark silence I must sit

ears perked to every sound

Brother’s whisper releases the news

current to me from the past

Life – Death what does it matter

Each looks the same as the other

© 2010 Eileen A Partak

Friday, February 11, 2011


Old lace stained and torn
looking at the faded past
the present melts before her
memories of her groom remain
but soon the candle dims
his face again to see

© 2011 Eileen A Partak

Ten O' Clock Visit

The Blue Jay visits every morning
Ten o’clock the arrival time
cawing loud approaching my garden.
With precise skill of wing he lands
beneath the heavy sunflower head
I think Mother Nature is the sunflower
with simple beauty to enjoy
and bountiful nourishment for all
Tall she stands reaching for the sky
guiding Old Sol on his daily journey
I watch this untamed episode
thanking high above for life
Watching the faces glow in the sunflower forest
filling my soul with contentment
I wait for the Blue Jay to visit at ten o'clock.

© 2011  Eileen A Partak

Summer Love

I realize my love is in the summer season
flying from me leaving my heart empty and alone in winter
Warmth to embrace me does not exist when now I crave it so
crying and sad with loneliness the sunshine of the day is deleted away
I must accept the cold emptiness of winter and remember life still exists
joy of the heart can be nurtured with memories of the past
On the wings of spring birds Summer will again fly back to me
once again I will be embraced with loving warmth
filling my heart with summer love

© 2011  Eileen A Partak

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Each Day

One day I feel nothing and wonder if I am alive
Next day my emotions rise with more than enough for a lifetime

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Whispering Hearts

Listen my love to the whispering of hearts

Listen closely – listen – feel vibration within

Feel the soar of our hearts – feel the pounding

Listen for words – the whisper of my heart whispering to yours

One heart calling to one it holds close – hold my heart – hold it and listen

Listen my love  - whispers – calls – reciting love to you

Hold my heart close  - hold my heart gently – keep my heart safe

My heart deep within yours  - whispering love

Whispering love only to you – whispering love for eternity

© 2011 Eileen A Partak

Dulled Brillance

Image courtesy of Boykung,/
Colored brillance
the diamond reflects

meant to blind thoughts
from reality

not love from the heart
to hold for all time

to numb true feelings
stifle affection

tricks to soften
forgiveness a false virtue

only forgetting
be the better choice

while she searches
to ease her soul
moving from this world

© 2011 Eileen A Partak

Friday, February 4, 2011

Lovers Connection

My heart breaks as each day passes
to find the connection where my lover resides
I search in new places
and pass time in old

My heart and body crying for its love to hold
Each moment that goes
My arms reach out farther
To connect with one that owns my heart now

I look in each place
and hope with all hope
to find the connection
where my lover resides

© 2011 Eileen A Partak

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Only Once

 Image courtesy of ponsuwan /
Can anything be just once?

Just once I will eat chocolate I told myself
Only once and never again
Just once to know what it is
To know – for only one time

Unwrap it hold it in my hand
Concentrate to get to know it
Running my fingers along the rim
Warmth of my hand introduces us
Forms it to a new shape

Should I taste it…just this once?
Bring it close …inhale the scent
Only once – never more
Just this once…should I?

The scent invites me – intoxicates my mind
Warm – moist – in my palm
My mouth desires to taste
One intimate moment calls to me - restraint is not an option
Into myself ….holding …. tasting …a taste like none ever before
In that encounter we are one

Can anything be just once?
Just once I will eat chocolate I told myself

Once is only the start.

© 2011 Eileen A Partak