The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle

laughter

  • garage of dreams and love

    In the garage of dreams, where time stands still-the engines hum and time with Daddy a forgotten lullaby each one a whisper from the past, metal and chrome, a chorus of nostalgia.   1974 Nova, 305 a canvas of gold and chrome, a promise of open roads, the sun glinting off its hood, memories of… Read more

  • starting at the end going to the beginning

    no rhyme, nor reason – just sharing differently today. I decided to share thoughts as they came in reference to the scripture listed that I heard at a breakfast meeting this morning…. from these few verses ( 3 to 9 of II Peter chapter 3) and adding Romans 1 “Because that, when they knew God,… Read more

  • Why, How, Who

    I was asked today how do I write, how long have I written, and why. It’s a gift, a blessing, a curse, a tool to look deep within and view the core. Hyper Empathy, affective empathy, discernment,etc, they each play a role. Writing isn’t just an act for me; it’s a release, a necessity. Every… Read more

  • 40 years ago

    Long ago on a cold February afternoon, forty years now past; he spoke her name in a promise, a loving vow wrapped in the scent of truth and eternity At times she sits, wandering through old photographs,remembering their two young faces, moments frozen forever The days now are alive with the pitter-patter of children’s feet,… Read more

  • Dusk and Dawn

    In the silent wilderness she dances through thickets, a laugh like a song, and her nails glinting like stars painted stories and a darker mysterious palette of color, vibrant, bold, and truly her personality is shown Her fingers like petals, she touches the snow tracing the need of dreams and reprieves Tonight, beneath the moon’s… Read more

  • What’s wrong with me

    all I wanted was a family;  a tableset for Two to Four where laughter reigned as King, and smiles and hugs were found every dayinstead, silence was birthed: what’s wrong with me? I sift through photographs of my childhood looking at all the faces smiling, yet they are now long gone and only like ghosts… Read more

  • what she sees

    I want to be known,not just seen, I desire to peel away the layers that guard my heart I want to be wanted,to gather love like fallen leaves, holding it in my hands or falling into it with a smile I stand,with arms crossed tight,deflecting warmth like a shield,fearing the truth of love from anyone… Read more

  • no tomorrow

    once again the kettle whistles, once a loud demand, now only a dull complaint; which is all that fills this hollow space as a reminder—even the simplest things can turn bitter gazing across the pasture I trees standing like military sentinels but they know nothing of the weight that grows heavier each minute daily I… Read more