Memorial Day 2017

This is a beutiful oem which so clearly relates the sacrifices of our veterans

Writer's Treasure Chest

Memorial Day is extravagantly celebrated as a federal holiday in the United States of America. It is observed on the last Monday of May month each year in order to commemorate all those brave men and women who died while serving in the armed force of United States. Memorial Day 2017 is on Monday, 29th of May.

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Some Gave All

I knew a man, called him Sandy Cane
Few folks even knew his name
But a hero, yes was he
Left a boy, came back a man
Still many just don’t understand
About the reasons we are free
I can’t forget the look in his eyes
Or the tears he cried

As he said these words to me

All Gave Some, Some Gave All
Some stood through for the red, white and blue
And some had to fall
And if you ever think of…

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A Puzzling Romance

This is another poem from a prompt, using the words,rubik’s cube, demonized and carrot. It turned out pretty good considering those words!!

Caitlin with the carrot-colored hair

Went off to visit a witch so fair.

Seeking help, her problem, profound.

The witch’s familiar was a Basset Hound!

“What? No black cat?” Caitlin asked.

“Sadly, my cat was possessed! Aghast!

A corrupt thing, most surely demonized. 

So I changed her into this hound so fine.”

“What, my sweet, might I do for you?

While cooing to her grey morning dove.

“I have looked far and wide,” the lass replied. 

But cannot find my one true love.”

The witch rose to stir her cauldron stew.

Dug deep into a magical tapestry bag,

And handed Caitlin a rubic’s cube,

Which made the lovelorn girl quite mad!

“I beseech your help and receive a toy?”

“Ah, my beauty, it will bring you joy.

For when solved, the rubic’s squares,

Will bring the one for whom you care.”

The witchcraft worked on the very first try,

As Caitlin sat alone in the park.

A handsome, dark-eyed man ambled by

And made a quizzical remark.

“Excuse me Miss,” he said, and sat

Beside her on the wooden bench.

“You seem to need a hand with that.

His eyes took in the lovely wench.

Moments passed with no retreat,

As he twisted, turned, then it was done.

The rubic’s cube was now complete.

Caitlin sighed, her heartstrings sung.

Far in the distance howled a sound

From a most special Basset Hound.

The witch pulled up her blood-red cowl

And smiled; true love once more, found.

The End

The Beginning


Haddon Musings



I invite you to come and join me on this pilgrimage to change the world through thankfulness.  Perhaps if enough of us join together we can change the negative climate that exists and is overtaking our planet. Together we can move our fellow citizens of to a better, higher and finer place.

Last week my son, Steve, came to visit.  Life hasn’t been easy for Steve.  He has had to wrestle with many demons and live with the consequences of losing many of those wrestling matches.  But through it all he has somehow managed to keep his magical sweet personality and loving attitude toward his family and life in general.  I am thankful that Steve keeps on fighting the good fight and I am thankful that Steve is my son.

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‘Welcome everyone to my new “Soooz Says Stuff” page. I’ll be sharing with you all the crazy stuff I write, just for the fun of it! Post 1 ‘The Pleasant Pheasant Plucker!’

You must read this to the end lol

Welcome to the World of Suzanne Burke.

Every so often on my journey through this crazy world I have the urgent need to write ‘off the wall’ crazy stuff, just for the hell of it. I’ve decided to reserve a special page on my blog; the “Soooz Says Stuff Page” The following  is the result of one such trip into mayhem. The original Limmerick goes (I believe) as follows.

“I’m not the pheasant plucker

I’m the pheasant plucker’s son

I’m only plucking pheasants

till the pheasant plucker comes.”

Then we have my expanded alternate version: Pheasant Plucked image

WARNING! Dangerous when spoken in company … unless you are completely sober … and are in possession of teeth … preferably your own.

I am a peasant who plucks pheasants

Morning noon and night.

T’is no easy task this pheasant plucking

and, I just can’t get it right.

I pluck ‘em fast; I pluck em slow

Till I’m flat out on the floor

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Thursday – A Little Personal

Adorable waaay to promote your books.

Fiction Favorites


“Hi, Boss.”

“Well, hello, Lucy. What can I do for you?

“Baily and I are a little worried.”


“I see that. What’s the problem?

Empty desk

“Empty desk boss. Empty desk.”

“You know I can’t sit there 24/7.”


“As a spokesperson for the non-humans, I want to make sure people outside the house know you write books.”

“You know last week you got several cute hits. I’m wondering if you can continue to milk it.”

“We actually have a vested interest in your success.”

“So what do you recommend?”

“Throw up a couple of cover pictures and then ask everyone to buy a copy.”

“If only it were that easy.”

“Okay I’ll put up the covers and links, but that’s it.”

“You are a mensch.”

My GRL Click Cover for Amazon

His Revenge Click Cover for Amazon

Click Cover for Amazon

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Motherhood: The Oldest Profession


By Micki Peluso

This Sunday mothers throughout the country will be honored in many and various ways. Toddlers and preschool children will cheerfully drag their mothers to their favorite fast food places and older children will escort them, with great decorum, to restaurants with actual dinnerware. The majority of children will serve their mothers breakfast in bed, a calamitous tradition that refuses to die. Adult children with children of their own will have greater reverence for their mothers, graced with understanding and empathy. Mothers will righteously accept the presents, cards, flowers and candy, and promises of exemplary behavior in the future. She has always and will continue to deserve the esteem bestowed upon her by her family on this one honored day of each year.

Motherhood, while fulfilling in ways too numerous to mention, has never been easy. Today it is even more difficult due to the diverse roles played by the 21th century mother. Some mothers are the sole support of the family; others work to supplement insufficient incomes, while many choose to balance a career with caretaking — all monumental achievements. Some households with dual incomes have learned to share the ongoing chores of home maintenance and child care, but it usually falls to the mother to be the primary nurturer, manager, coordinator and ‘gopher’. Despite reports on ‘burnout’ among working mothers, and ‘latchkey’ kids left alone too much, many American women are proving themselves capable of being both mother and working woman, placing the emphasis on quality versus quantity time with their children.

However, a small percentage of women have elected to forgo their careers, reasoning that careers can be resumed, but childrearing is a onetime occupation. Due to the trend toward women bearing children later in life, some women have worked and established careers for 10 or 15 years before having children. The skills they’ve attained are often utilized in creating home enterprises and small businesses, allowing them time with their children.

Unlike Father’s Day, which was erratic in its installment, Mother’s Day was accepted with enthusiasm. In May of 1907, Anna M. Jarvis of Philadelphia was inspired by the idea that at least once a year children should pay tribute to their mothers. She organized a special Mothers church service and the concept quickly spread to other churches. By 1911, the observance was widespread, including every state in the union, plus Canada, Mexico, South America, Africa, China, Japan and several islands. Leaflets proposing certain exercises were printed in 10 different languages and distributed to various countries. What the leaflets said in part was: “A day that has shown that it has heart and living interest for all classes, races, creeds, native and foreign-born, high and low, rich and poor, scoffer and churchmen, man, women and child, is Mother’s Day, observed on the second Sunday of May. The common possession of the living world is a mother . . ..”

A Mother’s Day International Association was incorporated in December of 1912 to promote a greater observance of the day. The following May, the House of Representatives unanimously adopted a resolution calling upon all government officials to wear a white carnation in celebration of Mother’s Day. In 1914, Congress designated Mother’s Day as an official holiday and asked Pres. Woodrow Wilson to display the national flag on all public buildings. On May 9, the president issued a proclamation asking the people to follow suit and display flags on their homes as ‘a public expression of our love and reverence for the mothers of the country’. The wearing of white carnations on Mother’s Day was modified to distinguish living mothers from those deceased. White flowers were worn by the motherless and red flowers by children with living mothers. Gift-giving by children became popular, especially homemade gifts and cards. One gift in great demand for Mother’s Day was the reproduction of Whistler’s portrait of his mother, the most famous mother portrait of the times.

Ever since Eve rocked the cradle that begat civilization, mothers held an almost mystical place in society. Research shows that even the caveman, while chauvinistic to the nth degree, cherished and protected his mate, knowing instinctively that without her the clan would become extinct. The cavewoman was healer, food gatherer, herbalist and fur-skinner, as well as mother. The custom of holding festivals to honor motherhood dates back to the ancient Greeks who worshiped Cybele, mother of the gods. Rome adopted the tradition around 250 BC and celebrated the festival of Hilaria on the Ides of March. The festivities lasted three days and included rites in woods and caves, significantly different from modern celebrations.

Today’s mother has exhibited proficiency in job skills, self-reliance, and creativity while continuing to supply the cohesive element that binds the family unit. Possibly the only thing that a mother cannot be is a father. On this Mother’s Day, as children and fathers lavishly pile gifts and admiration upon her, the mother is reminded of the importance of her role. When beset with trials and stress that would devastate the average person, the mother does her job and does it well; because it is a most rewarding occupation with no mandatory retirement. The benefits of loving and molding young minds far outweigh the tribulations of guiding children from infancy to adulthood. Abraham Lincoln said it best: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my mother.”

Mothrhood: The Oldest Profession

My beloved mom-in-law turned 101 on May 8th. This women taught me the true meaning of love, sacrifice and devotion to both God and Family. and loped me even after I eloped at 17 with her first born son. She has been my inspiration and my true mother.

Motherhood: The Oldest Profession

My beloved mother-in-law just turned 101 years old on May 8th. She met me when I eloped with her Catholic son and still accepted me into her large family. We bonded for life in spite of the havoc I wreaked upon her with 6 kids, 10 grandchildren, and 3 great grandchildren. This is the wisest women I’ve ever known and taught me the true meaning of love and devotion. She will always be ‘Mom’ to me.

Continue reading “Motherhood: The Oldest Profession”

With much joy, I introduce Laura Libricz, #RRBC’s “Spotlight” Author!

Check this Spotlight author out!!

I am thrilled to welcome Laura Libricz, Rave Reviews Book Club “Spotlight” Author, on today’s stop of her blog tour.  Laura is an amazing, supportive member of RRBC who generously promotes fellow authors. I consider it an honour to shine the “Spotlight” on her today.

With much joy, I introduce Laura Libricz!

Author Pic

Welcome to Day 1 of my #RRBC “SPOTLIGHT” Author Blog Tour. I’d like to thank my host and the RRBC for this great honor. To kick off this blog tour, I’d like to talk about writing!

Everything that happens in my writing happens for a reason! Just like that moment while watching a B-rated horror flick on TV. The heroine hears spooky sounds coming out of the basement. The music rises and her footsteps slow as she walks towards the basement door. Her hand reaches for the knob and everyone in the room shouts, “Don’t do it!”

We wonder how she could be so…

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