The following entries are written by local artist, sculptor, storyteller, writer, and friend, Cheryld Lynne Lucas. Some of these were published in the former Seminole State College literary publication, ACTIVE VOICES.

LET ME GO Why must you prolong any suffering with your cold machine and your indecent procedures? You offer me months and years of nauseating treatments--surgeries and poisonous medicines just so you can hear that pounding in my chest! Why? Does that help you bounce along yourself in life, while you walk and talk and feel and smell and laugh and eat? You give me 20% this and 20% that--you give me financial debt that a rich man can’t pay off in a lifetime.

You give those I love the grand duty to be burdened with my joyful treatments-back and forth, back and forth, and you take more money, more money! Then, for the love of God--I die anyway--regardless of your extravagant care. When will you be satisfied? True, I don’t want the responsibility to say good-bye to all those beloved of my soul--but I have to--so let me go!

I’m ready to give up my stuff. I’m ready to divide all the pictures and meet my Creator. Would any of you be so cruel as to force Hell on your child? Can’t you see the angels are waiting here in this hollow cold old room? No, I don’t want any fatalistic injections for a send-off, and I don’t need a rare resurrection... unless God prefers it. And, He doesn’t. He’s the one calling me home!

So, please get that machine out of here--take that tube and stainless steel tray and go take a break for Heaven’s sake! Now, then,,,bring me my cozy slippers and my favorite printed quilt and let me go! I’m tired, and that’s a fact. I love you, I’ll always be with you...I’ll see you...Later! (This won First Place in Prose) Live Long Do not live a ephemeral* life But take breath and fly above Live not the trick of dread Live not the flightless dove For a nimble* soul is the epitome Of which brings us hope and crown Live significant in a common world By living--and by living long Above the ground. (Ephemeral: short-lived, fleeting, transient) (Nimble: swift, animated, sprightly, light-footed) Snow-flowers Corridors of winter shadow Exhausting the patience of my bones--but I Fixing my eyes on the unchartered Spring For tokens of fresh jewels and treasure Captured her omens chanting in quiet melodies Tender in drifting gentle wind Falling softly upon my soul--and now Kissing her silken breath falling upon my hair I come smiling with life and flame Her title: Snow-flowers in the Springtime!

Who Goes With?

Wealth for the epicurean* soul can be relevant If God takes the soul, and the soul takes God Through the blessed pathway--Yes!

Wealth can brighten many a day But let the soul take the spook And at last the sparkling shine Weighs too heavy upon bare shoulders, Defeated and absent of life, the joy divine.

So, ‘tis best to keep God near No matter your life’s possessions-- No matter your gifts, as well, rich or poor matters, of course But ‘Who Goes With?’ is the right question.

*Epicurean: pleasure seeking, luxurious, gourmet, sensualist.

(This won an Honorable Mention) And memories from Lucas’ childhood in Oregon...

Here Comes the Judge.... Here Comes the Judge!

Here comes the Judge! With a whistle, this is what we would say when old Judge came trotting to us from a half mile away. He was always ready for a scratch, a hug, and a sugar cube. He was an old, as ‘old as dirt,’ black plow horse which Daddy brought home to us kids. We already happily owned Thunder and Littlebit, but they weren’t always the gentle sort like old Judge.

Now, envision this old plow horse as he really was. He was first deep, wide, and tall. He was really broad as a barn, carrying with him a ‘recliner’ for you to sit in for your pleasure--without a blanket or saddle. Judge was a wayback swayback, and could seat 3 to 4 kids t a time. Without a bit, he took us on a slow travel to great adventures in the pasture or down some mountain trail.

Old Judge had a very long shaggy mane, if the front-seat rider needed to hang on tight over the bumps. The rest of the crew hung onto him and each other. Judge was a good horse! He wouldn’t step on people’s feet, by lifting his hoof until it was safe for us. He never ever offered to bite either. His eyes lit up like shiny spotlights when he saw us waving or hollering or heard us whistle from a great distance.

Judge always found mysterious energy for a happy trot, a bow, and a whinny, while we waited for a glorious reunion. Picture this now, here comes the Judge, old as dirt, wayback swayback, big as a barn, shaggy as an old rug, sweet as a peach, trotting toward us for a sugar cube! I’ll not forget this colossal vision engraved in my mind, as long as I live!

Little kids could walk underneath his big, old, giant belly safely, and he would never think to kick anything or anyone near his rear quarters. This horse’s tail was bigger and bushier than a giant ant-eater’s tail! We loved old Judge! We didn’t care if his big, dipped back looked unusual to the world. We cared for him, treating him just like any other horse, protecting his honor all the way to his unfortunate death. He reached his final journey and close his big brown eyes and trotted into the courts of Heaven, at last.

We thought Judge was 100 years old when he passed away, but we could not process why he was taken from us so soon. I am absolutely positive the good Lord in Heaven rejoiced the day this old plow horse left us for glory. And, I’m sure this gentle friend is still giving children rides on streets of gold and hills of beauty. The Lord probably said exactly what us kids would say as he looked down across that earthly field,’ Here comes the Judge, Here comes the Judge!’

Have a blessed week and don’t forget to smile as you pass by others--even in Walmart. sometimes a smile goes a long way!

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