Sugars

He asked for what he wanted

With twinkling eyes

And a mischievous smile

“I want sugars”

He leaned forward

Placed his lips on mine

And gave sugars

Until he had all he wanted

For the moment

I wonder what life would be like

If we simply asked for what we wanted

And gave what we asked for in return

Isn’t it true

As I’ve often heard

That we give

What we wish we would get

We treat others

The way we would like

To be treated

If only people would pay attention

Look at what makes 

Eyes twinkle

Mischievous smiles appear 

All that sweet, sweet sugar

Just waiting for us

To lean forward


She stepped forward

Wrapped her arms around

Placed her hands in the others

Looked into the eyes

Held the wounded soul

In an embrace 

Filled with love

She knew,too well, herself

What it felt like to be

In desperate need

For whispered words

Of courage and strength

To feel another’s acceptance

In an embrace

So she stepped forward

Listening to the voice of the Spirit

Beckoning her to give more love

To say the words that she felt pouring out

As if she, too, was hearing them

For the first time

Because sometimes 

When love is given

It is received back

When a step is taken

It creates a path

Towards such a beautiful place

A state of mind

Place of peace

Sense of purpose

Clarify and grace 

All from an embrace

That lasted long enough

To begin to heal

The wounds of both of them 

More Than A Song

She read the lyrics

Heard the music

Felt the vibrations

And something else

It was more than just a song

It was a desire and a longing

A promise broken

Another one kept

The yearning of her heart

An answered prayer

The story she lived but didn’t write

The little things

Shared history

Secrets and understandings

Battle cries

Lullabies

Memories

In a chorus 

Or one single word

Chaos and peace

Bitter and sweet

Everything she ever imagined

In more than a song







Take Me There

“Take me there.”

…most people just say “It was amazing!” or “I had a great time.” and ” It was really nice.”…etc

But , then, there are the ones that can literally take me wherever they are because they use words in such descriptive ways that I, too, can feel the pounding of their heart as they skied down the slope, crashing into the snow and catching the eye of their daughter……I can almost hear the stories shared around the fireplace as glasses.of wine are refilled again and again. I can feel the energy of.the day that eased into a night of simple pleasures.

I was taken to the front rows of an spectacular performance, where grace and strength, talent and skill kept the audience on the edge of their seats.  I sat on my chaise, miles away….. transfixed and almost able to taste the energy of the place. 

I was taken to the bar where soldiers sang karaoke, celebrating a milestone birthday…..and to the reservation where a man received a life changing massage which lead him to become a therapist, too. 

I have tasted delicious food in Austin……and have never been to the restaurant. I’ve sipped coffee at a French cafe….but I’ve never been overseas.

I felt the people walk past me, smelled the hot dogs on the corners and yet I’ve never been to Chicago.

I laid on the floor and watched a baby squeal and kick and play from hundreds of miles away.
It’s all in the way you use your words, in the pictures you create, in the things you choose to share.

“Take me there ” really means to let me be part of what you feel, let me know you and, then, maybe we’ll take each other there.

Not Another Word

She got all dressed
Lined her lips in red
Glanced at her reflection
Hoped she looked good enough
She didn’t say another word
She left the house early
So many things to do
Worked hard to make a living
Good thing it was what  she loved
Came home late
There was more to do
She didn’t say another word
She climbed between the sheets
Shut her eyes
Held on tight to hope
That sleep would ease all her aches and pains
She didn’t say another word
Every chance she could get
She could be found
writing her heart out
Baring her soul
Giving glimpses to anyone
Who took the time to look
But she never said another word
She bought the things
She wanted
Found everything she needed
All by herself
Somehow
that’s just how it was
So she didn’t say another word

Jeanna’ Mead
7 13 p.m.  3.13.17

Feel with both hands, Jeanna’

TAKEN

She’s been taken

By the hand

Led onto the dance floor

Towards the light and the end of the line

Up the hill, out of the way

Down the steps.across a path, over the ŵater

Into bed and onto a stage

She’s been taken

For a fool by those that didn’t know any better

For weak instead of strong

On many a wild goose chase

By mistake for someone else, a different nationality

Just another pretty face

Shes been taken

To breakfast, lunch and dinner

Sometimes just for dessert

Out for wine and coffee

And to a picnic in a park

She’s been taken

To the very end of her rope

Right  down to her knees

And she’s been taken to the heights of absolute ecstasy

Breathless

She’s been taken

advantage of far more than she’ll care to admit

the wrong way by those that don’t understand

But most of all, she gets taken for granted

more than anything












 I Count

I count

The books on the shelf

Pictures on the wall

Candles and lamps

Candy in the dish

Every single blind 

All the outlets, too

Every hole and crack

Anything at all

To pass the time

Help me look the part

Play the role

Like I’m supposed to do

I count the steps And the pews

 The ladies and gents

All the children, too

While looking straight ahead

At the preacher I can’t understand 

I count the minutes on the clock

The number of reps

Those on my scale

And those that let me know

If anyone’s been reading my poems

I count the days since

The last time you came by

And i count down

To the next time

I count the kisses

Wrapped in shiney foil

Cause I always lose count

Of the kisses on my lips

I count the flowers as they bloom

But I never count the seeds

I plant

I count the boots 

Laying in my closet

God alone counts the steps I’ve taken in them

I count on my friends

That count on me

I always seem to lose count

Of how much money I’ve made

But sure seems like somehow there’s always just enough

I count all my blessings

Till I fall asleep

And I just keep on counting

As if,somehow, it’ll feel like  I  count, too.

1 07 p.m.  

3-1-17

Collections of Connections

While at the store, I stopped to look closely at  a beautiful table display with collections of vases,picture frames and knick knacks and as I touched the items, the reality struck me that I really didn’t want any of things on the table.

You see, a family friend had told me just last week that she was teaching her son to build connections instead of collections and that simple comment has been stuck on my mind every since.

“Connections instead of collections.”

Let these words roll over in your mind,speak them out loud,and write them down.
Whisper them to yourself and see how it causes you to reflect and ponder,and to take a deeper look at the things you have collected.

Do you really want a collection of blue vases and bottles or do you want a good friend that you can count on to chase away the blues?

There’s something incredible about having a kindred spirit that just gets you, someone who will catch your eye and without a word,understands what you’re feeling. 

It’s not just in family members or life-long friends,sometimes a simple connection is made while exchanging smiles as we pass by each other in the grocery aisles.
It is in the knowing look between  two moms carrying toddlers, as one elderly couple passes another, as we make eye contact and acknowledge another’s  presence.

That’s what life is really about -seeing the invisible red thread that connects each of us,seeing the divine in the dust,the possibilities in the seed, the beauty in the chaos.

It’s being open and willing to take the first step in building friendships. I think about all the people that I’ve wanted to get to know better but just didn’t.  Instead of offering  the first invitation, I hesitated and let the opportunities pass by.
I found excuses,instead of reasons to connect with others and, in doing so, I put up walls against the chances for wonderful things to happen.

I know that all deep connections go through hardships and difficulty and that’s exactly why I believe it’s important to reach  deep within and find forgiveness and mercy, acceptance and hope, faith and trust,again, to rebuild the relationship.

Sometimes, we realize that, although relationships change, it doesn’t have to be the end. There’s still goodness,still worthiness,and yes, still reason to continue but in different ways. 

There’s other connections,too, that have been formed by social media. I became part of Massage Therapy groups to learn more about my craft, not expecting to gain such insight and help for my day-to day life. 
One online friend found AVA, the Audio Visual Accessibility app that has changed my life. I haven’t met JT yet, but every time I use  AVA, I think of the Florida graphic artist that not only designed my first logo but also took the time to research accessibility apps after reading my post about not being able to understand group conversations.
Then there’s Joshua, the ocean lovin’, guitar playin’, skateboard ridin’, husband,papa and serious massage therapist who finds time to put together music selections on Spotify so that I- the deaf therapist- have clients exclaim that they absolutely loved the music played during their sessions.

Over time, understanding and intimacy  grows as stories are shared and bonds are formed and these people become the ones that know each other well. Distance may stand in the way of gathering  and sharing meals, but there’s still the “connection” that brings people together and lets them be there for each other.

Another thought that occurred to me, that actually has always been part of my “love language”, is that the “collections” that really matter to me have all came from my “connections.”

I spend hours in my massage studio room,  giving others my touch and attention,
surrounded by things that I’ve chosen to display because they bring me a feeling of contentment,of love,of security, of the connections I have made.

I look around and see a painting that reminds me of blue crab dip and beer with my friend, Keri. There’s a book from Jan, a quilt from Judy, a wooden bowl, framed quotes and painted words from other friends.
The dresser and desk were my mom’s that my husband repainted a bright turquoise ,my favorite color.

So when I look around, I don’t see “things,” I see the faces of the givers, I hear their words, I feel their touch and I know they are with me, in spirit and in truth.

Truthfully I do feel something special-a sense of empowerment and confidence, of love and strength when I wear certain things. It’s almost as if I’m being wrapped in an embrace, given an encouraging pat on the back, having my hand held as I go through my day just because I’m wearing something that came from someone else.

When I feel like I need an extra boost, I reach for my mom’s amethyst ring, layer on bracelets that have been given to me, and slip my feet into a pair of cowboy boots from my collection.
I have cowboy boots from back when I was 20, to the  pair my Mema bought me just weeks before she went to glory.  There’s the flowered pair that I tease my clients about…one bought the right,the other bought the left when they surprised me with a Christmas bonus two years ago.
My newest black stitched boots came from a long time client who tucked a Cavendars gift card in my hand to make sure I kept on waltzing around the table.

These things I wear are more than just accessories, they are wearable memories. It’s tangible collections showing me and others what’s already carved into my heart.

I’m building collections from my connections….and I’m going to begin giving bits and pieces to others so that when they look around their space, or at their wrist,or touch their neck, they will feel  my presence, my warmth,my love and gain a little extra confidence,a shot of sassiness,and waltz out to make their own connections in life!

Connections AND collections….this just might be the beginning of something wonderful!

Feel with both hands, Jeanna’