Her Window

The earsplitting howling, an eerie high-pitched note whirls around in Stephanie’s mind as she sleeps. The awful noise wails just outside her window, so she is bound to hear the sound that could echo a music score in a horror movie. Not that she would know because she isn’t old enough to watch scary movies. But her imagination tells her so. The trees fall into a trance like a magic spell cast upon them. They rock back and forth, their branches bending in unnatural ways, the tips like long, pointed fingernails scratching her bedroom window. The sound grates on her brain like a fork scraping a plate and tires screeching on asphalt. Stephanie tosses and turns. She fights to stay asleep, to ignore the menacing noise. Subconsciously, she remembers Beauty and the Beast on the wall above her headboard, her favorite musical, how she adores Belle. They take her to a happy place so she can fall back into that deep slumber. But only for a few minutes…

The scratching escalates, growing more intense, faster, and wilder on her windowpane. The wailing blares louder than fire sirens. Her eyes scrunched closed, she covers her ears with both hands, hoping to mute the horrific sound while lying still, no longer tossing and turning. Fear has paralyzed her body. She feels trapped, so afraid to move even an inch. But she has to get out of bed! It’s coming for her! It will shatter her window and climb inside! Her legs may as well be blocks of cement, but somehow, with all her six-year-old might, she swings her left leg over the side of her twin bed, then her right leg. She is sitting up now but has to run! No time to waste! No time for shoes! Her bare feet must carry her down the hallway to save her parents! Suddenly, Stephanie hears glass shatter, shards land on her comforter! She flies off her mattress so fast, her legs sprinting out of the room!

For a second, Stephanie closes her eyes while her legs move at marathon speed, the hallway never seemed so long. And just when she reaches her parent’s doorway, arms bind around her tightly in boa fashion, squeezing the air from her lungs.

“Let me go! Let me go!” She screams loud enough to shake the roof. Her arms and legs fling sporadically. Fighting off the huge monster with pointy fingernails.

“Stephanie, it’s Mom, wake up!” Lauren gently shakes her daughter, sitting on the edge of her bed. Belle and the Beast watch from the wall.

“Mom! It’s coming for us. We have to get Dad. We have to leave, now!”

“Oh, sweetheart, I think the wind howling caused a nightmare. It’s storming outside, but the three of us are safe in the house. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I was so scared, Mom. I hate the wind!” Stephanie says, hugging her mother, never wanting to let go.

“I don’t like it either,” Lauren hugs her daughter back, loving the feel of her little girl safe in her arms. “But just close your eyes and know that everything is okay.”

And just like that, consoled by her mom, Stephanie lets go and rolls over onto her right side. Exhaustion from the excitement finally kicking in. Her eyelids close slowly. Lauren sits for a few minutes, watching her beautiful daughter fall into a peaceful sleep. Then she quietly walks out of the room, but the earsplitting howling perpetuates. The storm isn’t due to pass for another ten hours.


Lauren Scott (c)

The Wisdom of Signs

Yesterday, I met a friend for breakfast, and then we took a walk through downtown and the neighborhood. We both were struck by the beauty and uniqueness of this sign that is not uncommon to any of us. So, below are thoughts that came to mind in the form of haiku:

when children are near
absorb their laughter, the joy
flowing into you

snails teach with their wise
leisure movements, taking in
beautiful backdrops

slow down your travels
do not let decades escape
catalogue moments

pause in your footsteps
regard life’s celebrations
breathe in their fragrance

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️

A Plea

I remember our conversation, effort to
calm emotions, phone glued to ear like

a natural extension. Her voice, exhausted…
“When will this be over?” She asked Dad

days later, more like a plea. He could be
gentle or travel the path of honesty. I don’t
know the words he pulled from his language

of a sixty-seven-year love…how he tiptoed
through the reply, though tenderly, I imagine,
since his heart was shattering into millions
of minute fragments. Her time was close.
Our awareness vigilant. Each day, another
breath held until the hands of time would
pause. Then as quickly as the sun fades
behind rolling hills, raindrops splash upon us.
She had ascended. Moments of memories
to follow. But not one day passes without
celebrating her life. Not one day slips by
without her knowing how much she is
loved and missed.

Lauren Scott (c)
Mom would be 101 today,
and since she loved her roses,
we dedicate this beauty for her.
❤️

In the Company of Redwoods

It felt like walking back in time, strolling around the loop in the park flanked by redwoods, families laughing and holding dialogue over a barbecue burger lunch. The aroma tickling our noses. Opened bags of chips and containers of various salads on the table ready for serving. Grandma shuffles across the street, both hands gripping her walker. Grandpa right beside her, his hand resting on her lower back. Deep, long-lasting love in his eyes. Parents play badminton with their children – a portrait of entertainment at its finest. Our stroll takes us to the bridge where we pause for a few minutes. Leaning against the rail, we see young girls and boys splashing in the creek, laughter whirling around in the warm June air. The sound, musical and magical. Redwoods stand tall in their regal manner, providing shade from the scorching rays of the golden ball in the bright cerulean sky.

A week has passed since extreme high temperatures inundated our area – no air conditioning, felt like we were simply existing, wiping sweat from our faces, zapped of all energy, fans at arm’s reach. So, a day among the Redwoods sounded ideal for a cool breather. Our stroll continues past the inviting, glistening creek where we spot poison oak on the side of the road, but we don’t touch. No desire to itch. A Western tiger swallowtail with its black tiger stripes and pretty pale-yellow wings joins us, flying around my husband then me, as if wanting to listen in on our conversation.

Campgrounds on our right display tents in all sizes and colors of blue, red, orange, and lime green. Kids of varied ages play games at a picnic table, a far cry from fingers flying across a keyboard. The delightful scene transports me to my childhood at our cabin on the corner, playing Yahtzee, or the classic Go Fish and Crazy Eights with my parents and sisters. A breeze whirls around us – we want to capture it with our bare hands, bottle it for when the house is sauna hot. A few dogs trot beside their owners, our dog mirrors them, happy to be outside with an abundance of stimulation: smells, people, children, food! His nose in overdrive!

We wind down the road, then make a U-turn. Reaching our picnic table, our stomachs begin to rumble, so my husband pulls out the Reuben sandwich for us to split – haven’t indulged in a Reuben in a hundred years, with orzo and tabbouleh salads for sides. What a feast. What a beautiful day in the company of the majestic Redwoods. His Deschutes IPA and my sangria tap. Cheers to 34 years ago on this day when he asked me that timeless question and I said, “Yes.”

Lauren Scott (c)

More than Coffee-More Hugs!!!

I am thrilled to receive two more wonderful reviews for my latest book: More than Coffee: Memories in Verse and Prose. As many of us have heard, reviews for books render the same effect as Big, Bear hugs! So, I’m loving these new hugs!

The first review is from my lovely friend, Jane Sturgeon at https://janesturgeon.com/blog. Jane always exudes positive energy, love, kindness, and calm. She is insightful, supportive, and has the most compassionate heart, and she is a lovely and wonderful writer about all aspects of life. I encourage you to visit her blog. You will leave feeling more at peace and full of that positive energy that will put a spring in your step!

The second review is from my dear friend, Scott Mitchell. We began our blogging adventures around the same time about ten years ago. Scott’s writing has always revealed his romantic heart and a sea of emotions, not to mention, his breathtaking way with words. He hasn’t blogged in a few years, but his poems can still be found at https://evokingthedeep.wordpress.com. I hope you’ll visit Scott’s blog, immersing yourself in his stunning words.

More Than Coffee: So Much More Than a Memoir of Verse and Prose by Jane Sturgeon

I loved every word in this book. Scott’s style and loving expression took me into the heart of life and to what truly matters. Her thoughts of Wil, her father-in-law, are compassionate and delightful in equal measure. Scott’s love for her family and the life she and Matt have built for their children shine through. Belonging and Riding With The Wind are two of my favourite poems.

More Than Coffee is a delight from start to finish and I highly recommend it to anyone who needs a dip into the magic of life.

Deep and Inspirational by Scott Mitchell

My favorite poet does it again in this publication. Lauren Scott is a deep end creative soul that finds the very words to pull in the reader. I’ve enjoyed her work for about 10 years.

If you’d like to buy a copy, simply click “Buy on Amazon” above. And If you’ve read More than Coffee, Thank you! I hope you enjoyed walking down memory lane with me, and please consider writing a review-the hug would be greatly appreciated.

A BIG thanks to Jane and Scott, to those who have written amazing reviews, and to all of you for stopping by.

Happy Reading,
Lauren ❤️

The Mess

During the visit,
there’s something about
the clothes strewn on the floor
soon to be dumped in the washer,
wallet lying on the dresser,
cell plugged in,
bed comforter in shambles

because the messiness
means he’s home.

Now with air miles accumulated
back in the familiar time zone,
his room shines, neatness
grating on my nerves,
silence like receiving
the cold shoulder.

My hand pulls back the comforter,
tousling, creating wrinkles and lumps
in the navy fabric as though rumpled
from a restful night’s sleep,
then I pull some old shirts from the
closet, tossing them on the floor
just so I can pretend the good-byes
hadn’t found freedom.

Lauren Scott (c)

Giggles

We used to hear them,
giggles in the distance,
running behind bushes,
hiding against stucco.
Houses on the block, vacant?
Not devoid of humans,
but maybe lacking
excitement to frolic
beneath sun’s rays,
sing with the robins,
gaze at

acrobatic squirrels
in the tall oaks.
Perhaps, sneaky screens
stole that amusement,
those precious,
memory-making moments
spent outdoors.

Lauren Scott (c)

Tiny Treasures by the Sea

precious works of art
remain forever priceless

as time ticks away

rocks and shiny shells
of all shapes and colors bring
joy to childlike hearts


sandy shore offers
troves of tiny treasures for
imaginations


smooth-as-silk green glass
in clay molded with fancy
edges shows vision

paintbrush through fingers
brows furrowed, concentrating
cherished masterpiece

tiny hands create
a piece of art, melting the
heart decades later

Lauren Scott (c)
Our son made this
when he was little,
forever priceless.
❤️

The Sweetness in Life

If we listed in longhand the number of sweet things in life, our lists would be never-ending. We’d write constantly, the pen would never get a rest, the amount of paper we’d need would be extensive, and our hand would begin to scream from exhaustion. Well, I haven’t been writing forever, and you know I’m typing this post, but here are a few sweet things that come to mind, and I hope we never take our lists for granted…
Swimming in a sparkling lake that soothes the body from scorching heat and sweat of the day, reading a book you can’t put down – a real page-turner that interrupts chores, walking beneath a cerulean sky, hiking on a mountain top hearing birds practicing their choral selection sitting high in the tall trees and those sky-scraping trees shading your path, listening to the joyful giggles of children, observing in awe a star-filled night, touching soft, tiny feet of a baby who smiles back at you, witnessing your children’s triumphs, knowing someone gets you, that first fall into love, whispers of a warm, summer breeze, viewing graceful butterflies in flight, new vivid blooms in springtime, unexpected acts of kindness, answered prayers, writing down those thoughts, a hummingbird flitting about, melodies that comfort the heart and mind, and melodies that get you on your feet and make you wanna dance, a creamy chocolate indulgence, and a tender, slow kiss on the lips…truly the icing on the cake.

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
My son made this carrot cake, my favorite dessert of all,
and believe me, it was divine!
Carrot cake is also the topic of a fun
and sentimental story
in my book, More than Coffee.

The Cheerleader

Light
follows
darkness like
earth shadows the
sun, but its timing,
fickle unlike morning’s
entrance each day. Thus, if gloom
lurks within arm’s reach, keep courage
nearby, for the great cheerleader of
grit will spot that beam displaying hues so
vivid, bursting with something larger than
we can imagine and can’t exist
without for a contented ride.
It takes digging deep into
the depths of our souls to
unearth the chief spark
of all notions,
shimmering,
welcomed…
Hope.

Lauren Scott (c)
Pink rose from our garden.