Once the belle of naples,
my dear sister packed her
long designer gowns, her shells
found along the morning
shores and beach,
sold her penthouse
crown atop
a pink condo
high rise and headed home
to where her foxes and
wild turkey roam
through wooded hills
and valleys deep,
to read and keep
her mind serene,
at peace
in forest glades
divine, to reflect
upon a peace divine.
By R.L. Huffstutter
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About Me
- HUFFSTUTTER'S PHOTO ESSAYS
- My dad's dad, my grandfather, was nine years old when President Lincoln died from an assassin's bullet. Most people think I am speaking of my GREAT GRANDFATHER. NO, I am referring to my dad's father, my paternal Grandfather, Robert Levi Huffstutter, born in 1856. What does this information have to do with my profile? It might help the reader understand that I have a sense of being much older than I am in that only one generation seperates me from President Lincoln. This causes me to respond differently to society and many current events. In many respects, this is to my benefit, in other respects it dates my mindset. Perhaps this is the reason I value the moral standards and idealogies of older Americans, the men who were the soldiers and sailors I saw when I was a small boy,the men and women who fought a war for freedom without any doubts posted by a media with a questionable lack of national unity and purpose.
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