“Color”
It was just a simple valentine!
I gave it to her as a little guy thinking she was a friend of mine.
She told her “Pops” and I found he wasn’t so kind.
He showed up on our doorstep looking for my”Pops” in a very short time.
As early teens we shared stares and smiles, how lame, but I had only myself to blame.
Later I brought her to the high school dance only to have my catholic school friends look at us askance.
”How dare you wear such fancy pants!”
Well, I only wanted to be like them.
Those holy classmates always so proper and prim.
Now grown and still the loving pair yet stopped by the blue most everywhere.
you see much to our despair
None of this is going away,
Oh yes. My brown skin is here to stay.#
Eudell Watts lll
About the Creator
Eudell Watts
Former business owner, college basketball coach/student counselor. Currently, award winning chef, story teller and children's book writer.
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In The Mouse's House
IN The Mouse’s House WL 2006 I was blessed to spend the first twenty years of my life working alongside and with my father. He was a commercial waste hauler. He taught me how to work. He taught me how to treat other people. He taught me honesty. Most importantly without teaching me he was one thing a lot of my friends did not have growing up. He was there for me. In the 1950's and 60's my brother Jim and I worked with dad before and after school. As youngsters we often found ourselves pared with hired help. Brother John was a bit younger and smaller. He compounded that by being quiet and shy. This was something he eventually grew out of, This is in no way a put down of John by any means. He went on to be the absolute best all around athlete in the family as well as garnering outstanding academic accomplishments at the U of Minnesota. As a result of his size and age dad never required him to work on a regular basis like Jim and I and later David whose work ethic and dedication or desire to contribute in a positive manner came by choice. David’s work ethic in the family is legend.
By Eudell Watts3 years ago in Families
In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
By Lisa VanGalen5 days ago in Fiction
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