Piquant Short Stories and Succulent Poems
By G. Roscoe
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About this ebook
Piquant Short Stories and Succulent Poems is about a journey through life as a child and an adult. People of all ages and backgrounds can learn from someone else's growing trials.
Some of the poems and short stories can help someone who may not have a close friend or has a nonexistent relative.
Piquant Short Stories and Succulent Poe
G. Roscoe
Gwendolyn was raised in the south. My mother was a cafeteria aid, and my father was a share cropper, construction worker. My ninth-grade teacher. Mrs. Charlie encourages me to write. At the age of thirteen I wrote my first play called Slaves not for sale and a short story called our trip to China. I earn my associate in science degree from Roxbury Community College in Boston Ma. My passion for writing grew ten times stronger. The author mostly writes a combination of fiction and non-fiction stories. But wishes to reach a wide range of audience all over this world.
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Piquant Short Stories and Succulent Poems - G. Roscoe
Piquant Short Stories and Succulent Poems
Copyright © 2024 by G. Roscoe
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ISBN
978-1-962611-40-4 (Paperback)
978-1-962611-41-1 (eBook)
Table of Contents
Life
Southern Delight
So Juicy
The Store
Fatherless Mammy
Politically not Right
I’m a Bird
Theme for English B
Short Long Love
The Lover’s Hand-Part 1
Lover’s Hands
Weeping Widow
For ever Your Friend
Garddatha
The Old Thrill
Short Long Love-Part 2
Naked City
The Big Forties
Landlords
Computer Teacher
How Long
The Ghosts of Yesterday-Part 1
What a Friend
Early May
May
Star of Hope
Hang Not Thy Head
All Dogs Don’t Have Tails
Happy Mother’s Day Mom
Protobe Black
The Bay
Simply Me
Still Water
Old Mighty Pen
Flash Back
The Unknown
Black History
Black or White Love
Strings from the Past
Black Cat
Merry Christmas Mom and Dad
Cremation
Old Timer
Old Timer
Forever A Temptation
Forever A Temptation
Drama Queen
The Learning Tree
Lover’s Hands-Part 2
Life
What have you done to help your brother or sister? Did you donate food to the homeless or did you cook a meal for a senior citizen? Did you take the time to tell that very special someone you loved them? Perhaps you should have told your neighborhood child that you would give him or her five dollars. What you give to the universe is what you get back. If you cheat, steal, and lie, then that will be your reward in life. If you do good, and regardless of what color the next human being is, give them a hand, then the universe will give you one back. The deeds of your life will be the ones to make you or break you. Remember what lessons you have learned. Did the universe teach you anything? Are you living a life of lies? The same things you did as a child, you are still doing now. Say, my brother, color does not matter; you in your thousand-dollar suit, would probably not give to a needy child to save your soul. Say, my sister or brother, the ones who hate regardless of an opinion, hate is all you know. Remember that what you give to the universe is what you get back. Say, my sister, living a fascinating life of stealing, nothing is too big for you; one day the same shoes will be put on your own feet. My brother, want a car but do not want to work for it? Did your parents ever tell you to do unto others as you would have them do unto you? This old world has gone upside-down. Blood is being splattered on the wall instead of the family name. Starvation is spreading like wildfire and say, my friend of all different colors, is it really love that got you here? Living mostly for your own needs, looking out for your best interest? My friend of all colors and creeds, what have you done to help someone in despair? Remember, this life we are living is nothing more than a huge stage, and God is playing the role in all of our lives. Never run down a person who is down today; cheer them up in their sorrow, for this world is a cold and mean world and you may be down tomorrow. Is it really hope or hate that all of our brothers and sisters cannot live in harmony? Is it really peace when the man of all nations cannot love his wife or woman? How strange is life? If I had known life would have been so difficult, I would have talked to God and told him to hide me in a shell, or anytime I wanted to leave this earth-plane let me go. In your life, what have you done to better someone else’s burden?
Southern Delight
I was born not long ago to a great set of people. My parents were not rich, but they were wonderful. My mother was a lunch monitor and my father was a farmer and construction worker.
A star was born in this little town called Plainview. The stay was very brief; we moved to another small area called Angel Bend.
Angel Bend was a small, little town that was also called Paradise. All the houses went around the block and after that was the post office, the convenience store and the dance hall. Then the woods and river were last. The school in the community was very pleasant and very convenient, and my friends were cool, too.
It was a blessing from God. I was given eight brothers and six sisters and wouldn’t change anything about it at all. They were very wonderful people. Nine of them were older than I. I was the fourth oldest girl.
At a tender age, I had a passion for writing. As long as I could scribble and get a piece of paper, I was fine. Songs, poems, and plays would roll out of my mind. It’s as though they were being given to me by this great spiritual being. Of course, it was God! Who else could it be? I grew up with morals and virtues, at least around Mom and Dad. I loved both of them. I got to spend nineteen wonderful years with my mother and twenty-five great years with my father.
I remember very well the echoes of my deceased parents, hearing their voices in my head as though it was a high-quality audio cassette. This impression has guided me and is forever in my mind.
I cherish my memories of childhood laughter and childhood tears, hearing and seeing the ghosts of yesterday playing over and over again in my young eyes.
Thank you Mom and Dad, for your precious, easy, hard, not-so-good ways. No matter what you take from me, you can never take away that southern dignity. I’m so proud to be from the heart