Xlibris Book Review: A Friend Made Me Remember

Paul Bennett aka Cralion. A Friend Made Me Remember. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44154-812-2. 2009. Perfect Bound Softcover.

Overview:

Paul’s writing spirit was revived in 1993 and he was re-inspired by a friend named Kim to renew his poetic writing and thus A FRIEND MADE ME REMEMBER WAS BORN to be followed by another book entitled FOR THE LOVE AND LOVER IN YOU. Three poems from that book are found in the highly acclaimed book THE CHOCOLATE SHIP by celebrated author Marissa Monteilh who also wrote MAY DECEMBER SOULS, HOT BOYZ, MAKE ME HOT AND MORE. Ms. Monteilh also wrote, “Paul Bennett is poetically talented beyond his years. A FRIEND MADE ME REMEMBER will lyrically touch each of your senses, and passionately stroke your soul. You will be moved, you will be touched, and your heart will be warmed by the flow of his genius.” Debra Clayton, celebrated author of RAP SUPERSTAR wrote, “blessed and truly talented. Although I find all of your poems to be intoxicating and mesmerizing, there were a few that climbed into my heart. God has blessed you with an incredible gift. Let the rest of the world experience what I experienced when I read your touching, thought provoking words.” Bennett’s writing spawned an anthology of poems contained within and reflects not only his gifted penchant for writing poetry, but reveals something about the man, his strong feelings for family, people and the world in which we live.

Book Teaser:

A Friend Made Me Remember

(Dedicated to the true love of my life Jessie

Faye Shackelford, my mother)

You’re always in my heart

hidden deep in my thoughts . . . in me

The pain of losing you submerged by many years

and a deluge of tears

From your inspiration my life has gone on

time brought acceptance of your absence from my life

But your love remains one with my entity

it sustains me . . . that an God

I still have the need to give you my love

I cry silent tears for need of yours

Both desires share your memory,

both lost the gift of you

Then a friend made me remember in vivid reflection

the joy of loving you, the happiness of being with you

The pain of losing you

the despair of needing you

The question of why still lingers strong

yet the answer may be too clear

I just don’t want to see

when you took your life, you took mine from me

I too have tasted emptiness, and it’s all bitter flavored

its loneliness, its despair, the hopelessness

The depression that says “to hell with it all"

I need to stop the pain in the void of death

There were guilt’s burdens that robbed my strength

my peace of mind, my faith

Drained away with years matched by waves of tears

knowing the instrument of your demise . . . was mine

I should have taken it with me

I should have known your mind

I didn’t see them, but there had to be warning signs

please forgive me

My survival is in your strength bequeathed in blood refined,

your love protected me

Memory of your smile encouraged me

sustained me, filled the lonely abyss left by your passing

Inhabited those empty spaces somehow, someway

Reminded me of your devotion, a lifetime of caring to your children

Bernard, Brenda and Me

I didn't understand you leaving us three

but then Iwas only thinking of them . . . and me

Alas hindsight is cruel with no sympathy for mistakes and recriminations

I didn’t always say what I should have said

These words came slow to my lips in life, but were in my heart

Ithank God Isaid them before your life here was no more

Know I loved, love, and will always love you more than life

My gratitude to God for your womb that bore me

for the arms that held me and comforted me

The breasts and spirit that nourished me

my prayers and blessing on him for your motherhood

Thanks mom

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Indian Summer - Xlibris Book Review

Book Teaser

Hannah was Indian and she was very old. No one knew exactly, but people guessed her age to be between seventy and eighty.

A visit to Hannah Blossom was no ordinary occurrence. She lived like a hermit, shunning visitors unless they came to buy her sweet hay baskets. Sarah had heard a rumor from her friend Tish that Hannah was a medicine woman, but whenever Sarah's mother took her to visit there had been no weird incantations or visible magic potions. About once a year, Winona made the long trek by foot, sometimes taking Sarah. The prospect of another visit was exciting.

"Do you really feel up to it, Ma?"

"Of course I do." Her mother laughed, and Sarah, reassured, could see that she, too, was excited. “Vled better get ready. I'd like to get there before the sun is high. We'll take a picnic lunch and eat by Rocky Brook.‘

The road east to the mountain was hard-packed gravel and smooth for easy walking. They went along briskly, Sarah's mother with a natural grace in spite of her heavy pregnancy. To shorten the journey, they cut across Duncan's farm and over a small footbridge at the brook.

The day was cool, but by the time they reached the footpath to Hannah's cabin, Sarah's mother was panting and her forehead was slick with moisture. They rested on a fallen log at the edge of the woods and then continued on the path that wound into the foothills.

Sarah's mother had a keen eye for things in the forest. Now and then she would point out a hidden flower for Sarah to admire, or a rare herb to retrieve. She pointed to a mass of translucent gum on an old spruce tree, and Sarah broke off a big piece to bring home to Johnny for chewing gum.

Suddenly the cabin was in front of them, almost hidden trees. It was small, only one room, but it was sturdy and the cracks between the logs were well packed with clay. Beyond the cabin in a sunny open space, Hannah crouched on her knees, gathering green herbs.

She looked up and frowned at the appearance of visitors, but when she recognized Sarah and her mother, she dropped the armload of greens into a large basket and smiled as she came out to greet them. Her face was as brown as a walnut. Two black eyes buried in wrinkles shone like glass marbles. When she grinned, her two pink gums shone~-there wasn't a tooth in her head. Her snow-white hair, parted in the middle, hung in thick braids over her ears. She wore faded blue overalls and a red plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal wrinkled brown wrists.

Hannah took Winona's hand in her two brown ones.

'I heard about the baby,' she said in a dry cracked voice that sounded like a man's. 'I didn't think you'd come.'

“But that's why I came-to get one of your new baskets to keep the baby's clothes in-and to see you, of course."

The old woman shook her head and clamped her lips together. When she did, her chin almost met her nose, and Sarah hid a smile behind her hand.

Hannah led the way into the cabin. It was dark inside, for there was only one window besides the doorway, and very little sun filtered through the tree branches that overhung the cabin.

She lit a candle, and by its flickering light Sarah saw there were many beautiful baskets on shelves and walls, some as small as a teacup, others larger than a washtub, in round, square and oval shapes. Some had covers with little straw hinges. Some were a natural color, a soft gray green, while others were patterned in vividly dyed reds, yellows and browns. The nicest thing about them was the sweet hay fragrance-the most delightful perfume in the world to Sarah's nose-not heavy, like some women wore, but delicate and sweetly fresh, making you think of daisies in the sun or violets in spring rain. One exquisite basket caught Sarah's eye. It was shaped like a mother hen whose feathers lifted up on a hinge to form a cover.

Sarah's mother found a large square basket.

“How much?"

The wrinkled brown face grinned. "Cheap-fifty cents."

Reaching for it, Hannah pointed to a small defect in the weave.

‘Are you sure?" Sarah's mother knew how many hours such fine

weaving required.

‘I have tea,‘ Hannah said, her voice raised in a half-question.

‘Tea would be fine.‘

Sarah knew what would follow. There was always the ritual reading of the tea leaves. Hannah would read Sarah's first. With Sarah’s fortune there was always much laughter. Hannah would peer for a long time into the cup, turn it this way and that and say, “H-m-m-ah-h-h! I see a fair-haired man in your future," making Sarah blush and giggle, because it was always the same prophecy.

Today it was the same, except that the man in Sarah's future would be tall and dark, and something else was added. The black marble eyes shone with a mysterious twinkle. “Soon,“ she said, “you go on a journey."

‘Oh, where?‘

‘The leaves do not tell."

Hannah put down Sarah's cup and took up Winona 's. She looked at the small pattern of leaves in it and then at Sarah's mother quickly before peering again into the cup. She turned it in her hands and closed her eves.

Ella Gilman Conger. Indian Summer. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44151-905-4. 2009. Perfect Bound Softcover.

Click here to order this book available at Xlibris Bookstore. For more information, check us out at www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk.

Writing A Book?             Call 1-888-795-4274 or email publishtoday@xlibris.com for your free consultation. Get Started today by requesting your Free Editing Guide.

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