Articles written by Collette Tardiff

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: My husband: 5 of 71

The depths of my heart that only he can reach Others have attempted, but drowned in the end My soul is captured within the flicker of his eyes With each kiss, a sense of comfort Every glance after that is a secret that only we share His love is abounding and truer than any truth be told "Til' death do us part" and even in de...
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: A kiss: 4 of 23

"What's wrong with you Jenna?" Lisa asked. "I saw you two in the hallway." Jenna continued to reach for her History book that was on the top shelf of her locker. "Jenna it was nothing. I didn't mean to. But I like him too." Lisa started to walk towards her next class. "Just to let you know," Jenna yelled,"we're no longer fri...
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Meaning of life: 47 of 183

I was ten years old; playing in the snow in my backyard. I climbed up to the top of a snow pile and slid down. Every bump hurt, but a smile was stretched across my face the whole time. I quickly got up and climbed up the steep snow hill again and again. Every time I met the ground, my mother was standing there with open arms...
Parenting & Pregnancy > After School Encouraging your child's talent for drawing: 5 of 9

My son is 15 months old and I am already encouraging him to draw. I started this about a couple months ago. At that time, I took a plain piece of white paper and taped it to the coffee table, so it wouldn't slide as he colored. I then gave him one non-toxic thick crayon. He looked at it and was amazed. I explained the color ...
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Suicide: 38 of 55

I hold the razor in my hand tightly while I imagine the blood gushing from my wrists. I lightly press the blade to my arm and make a slight scratch. I push a little harder while tears run down my cheeks. Melting mascara clouds my vision. I don't feel any pain and look at my wrist. It isn't bleeding. The razor was unsuccessfu...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Heartbreaker: 80 of 113

A dreary day in December, you came Whispered love notes that tangled in the cool breeze Twisting my heart into a shape unknown I was captured My stomach pulsated with nervousness You held my face in your gloved hands Kissed me gently on the forehead and walked away I watched the snow drape your knitted cap Snow penetrated my...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Lost dreams: 38 of 46

A lost dream; like A fallen leaf that has hit the ground Slowly fluttered; without a sound It took so long to plant the tree To watch it grow with much belief Rain swivels down, on now rotting bark As another dream has lost it's spark