Pamela Walsh-Holte

Joined November 2020

95 stories

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Runner-Up in Tautogram Challenge

Stories (95)

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"The Truth in a Snowflake"
Have you ever heard a snowflake? If you listen carefully you can, waking me, they whispered, we are falling, falling fast, reaching a crescendo that will not last. You know they will never lie. I know this to be true. I sat in awe of their beauty as they fell last night, while they soothed my broken soul. With the melody in their song, they sang me back to sleep. I looked for them when I awoke, there was not one to be seen. How can such beauty disappear, leaving not a trace? Instead, a tear runs down my face sent in the snowflake's place.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Fiction
"Good Riddance"
As evidenced by the gouge, scarring precisely where you slid into 2024. Bittersweet, the memory of the year, year 2023, Covered in a veil of tragedy you're serving selfishly.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"2am"
It's 2am and here I am again, guilty as sin With donuts and a cup of coffee to dip them in I only woke to pee and now look at me
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"Journey"
I am not one for New Years Resolutions, mainly because I can't seem to ever keep them. Not only that, but I stress myself out with the fact that I am not disciplined enough to do so. As I welcome 2024, I do so with a deluge of tears and a heavy heart.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Motivation
"Sweet Nectar"
The wildflower's sweet nectar they seek these butterflies, bumble bees, and hummingbirds A kaleidoscope of color against the golden hue of the creek
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"Fractured"
From the depths of her fractured soul she cries out to deaf ears As she slowly loses control sorrow echos from once she was whole
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"Arsenic-laced"
Once warm, tears bitter cold, have replaced etching a cruel path down pale flaccid cheeks With tears now arsenic-laced
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"Granddad's Pocket"
In Granddad's pocket he kept a stone, its surface smooth and cool to the touch. He let me hold it ever so often, his cherished possession, he valued so much.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
"A Smooth Character"
He was a smooth character, for sure! All the silly women nieve and insecure, looked to him for their future. Blinded by the words that slid off his tongue,
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Poets
A Friend Called Ruth
She woke to the smells of the Island entwined with the smoldering wood in the pot belly stove that sits in the kitchen of the old farm house. The farm house and the 40 acres it sits on has been in her best friends family for generations. She is sure they have done no modernizations since the day it was built. It's a solid old home filled with many memories. She and her small circle of friends have spent most every summer here and she loves it.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte3 years ago in Art
THE LONGEST HEIST
Over the years, many had left with more than they came. Leaving her void of her identity. With a wounded soul were her memories should be. No one understood the depth of her empty. Her dads teddy bear, when he passed "Struggles" was there. Where was he now? Did anyone care? To them just another stuffed teddy bear. So tired of hearing let go of the past, they don't understand this was her life and memories are meant to last.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte3 years ago in Fiction
Gidget
She was nine years old when the small dog followed her home Dad was adamant "we are not keeping that dog" That dog stole our hearts
By Pamela Walsh-Holte3 years ago in Fiction