Welcome to Mushville 


Welcome to Mushville.
Population: 2
In a world all our own
Nothing else matters
Just me and you.

It’s a dream of marshmallow skies,
Daiquiris and homemade pies.
It’s a heavenly scent of daffodils,
A place where your glass is always filled.

Many roads lead to Mushville:
The sound of your voice,
The sweet smile you wear so well,
The vision of what is and could be,
The memory of that silly thing you said.

I’m painting tangerine trees,
An ocean of smiles with a dancing breeze.
I can see a guiding light of affection,
Surrounds by rays of hope from all directions.

Follow me to Mushville if you dare,
The journey is sweet so have no fear.
Hugs, sweet kisses, love notes and silly faces
Will greet you happily, there are no fences.

(Collaboration by A & B)

Short Stories

I have not failed…


Hello lovely people!
Hope you are all well.

There are days when I look back at my life and wonder what I’ve accomplished, wishing I had more haughty accolades to show for my 42 years on this planet.

Then I stumble on the image below, which I purposely saved a long time ago, for moments like these. It reminds me that my life has meaning — that my existence, though plagued with trials, is still part of a more grand design. There’s a reason I’m on this earth and I need to fulfill my purpose. So I press on with renewed vigor, onward and upward to my destiny!

Perhaps the following image will offer you some renewed perspective too. Hope you’re all having a lovely day. Enjoy! 🌷



Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: October 15 2016
Originally published: October 15 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises

Short Stories

Are you a dreamer?



My mom always called my dad a dreamer. He had many lofty ideas but many of them were never executed. My mom on the other hand is more of a realist — having a plan,  seeking the means by which to accomplish her goals, all while tossing in a good serving of faith to see her through to victory! Yep,  my mom is a survivor! She knows how to make do with little and sure enough God always sends a good Samaritan to save the day. She is truly blessed!

Combine the dreamer and the realist and what do you get? A firstborn dreamer who knows how to make those dreams a reality. Yep,  I think I have a little of both mom and dad in me and I’m glad, because I can now relate to the lofty ideas of my dad but understand the work involved in making those dreams come true.

In the following poem,  it seems like the author was having a hard time deciphering if he was dreaming or if his dreams were becoming reality. It also seems as if he too was perceived as a dreamer by those around him and that may have made him feel alone.

Since poetry is subjective,  perhaps your interpretation would be very different from mine, so have a read and see how it speaks to you. Enjoy! 🌷

Quote from “Edgar Allan Poe’s Complete Poetical Works” by Edgar Allan Poe –

“A Dream within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?”

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Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: September 27 2016
Originally published: September 27 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises


When humor hurts…



The ripe sarcasm
Of your words, said in jest,
Cut deep under my skin,
But are never accompanied 
By any soothing nuances
To let me know
You have a soul
Under your exterior of humor.

Laughter, they say,
Is good medicine
For the soul.
But it seems
You laugh to hide
Your inability to show love.

Perhaps you show love
In a way I cannot comprehend.
Perhaps I don’t recognize it
Because it’s not
The kind of love I need.

How sad,
That after all this time
You don’t understand me at all.
How frustrating
That I can’t discuss this with you
Without starting a fight.

I don’t want to fight,
I don’t want to hurt you.
I rather spend
The remainder of your days
Creating happy memories
For you are the only one left.

But, how gut-wrenching,
That there will always be
An underlying sense of insincerity,
For there is no humor
To ever compensate
For love not felt
From one’s own mother.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: October 3 2016
Originally published: October 4 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises

Short Stories

The Scissor Monster

scissor monster 7.4.2016
Image source: Yahoo images


It’s Sunday morning and I’m awakened by the following questions from my 4 yr old daughter:

Mommy, what happened to your hair???!!!

What do you mean?

It’s…  it’s…  it’s… SHORT!!!

It is?


What do you mean short?

Somebody cut off a lot of your hair while you were sleeping!

Well where is all my hair?

I don’t know! We have to go find out!

Okay, come on, let’s go.


We go the bathroom mirror to investigate….


It IS short!

See, I told you. Who did that to you?

I don’t know, maybe it was The Scissor Monster!

Did he cut it off and eat it?

I don’t know. Why would he need to eat hair?

Maybe because he doesn’t like vegetables!

Maybe, but won’t that make his belly hurt? Let’s look in the trash to see if he put it there. Aha!!! There’s my hair. He put it in the trash!

So why did he cut your hair? Was it because he likes to be mean?

I don’t know. Let’s see… I kinda like it, it’s not that bad, don’t you like it short?

No I don’t like it,  you look horrible! I like your hair long !!!!

Well let’s go see if we can find that naughty Scissor Monster. Maybe he’ll tell us why he cut my hair.

But what if he tries to cut off my hair too?  I like my hair long. I don’t want my hair short.

Well I have a secret.


There really is no Scissor Monster. I cut my own hair last night while you were sleeping. The ends were pretty damaged because mommy wasn’t good at taking care of her hair all by herself. So I had to cut off the bad parts so my hair can look pretty again.

But I don’t like it short.

It’s okay honey, my hair grows really fast, it will be long again before you know it.


I promise,  Munchkin, I promise…


Contents written: July 3 2016  | Copyright 2016 Moylom Enterprises