May the spirit of my Lord be in my heart and in my actions on this day as I prepare for my baptism ~~~

From this day forward may I be Your shining example to all that know me ~~~

I am a simple woman Lord, quiet & reserved, softly spoken; I am not a star on the world’s stage; the gifts you have given me have served me well — compassion, kindness & empathy, discernment & wisdom — over the years in the rearing of my children and in of my career. I know I have been blessed! Father, I ask for your conditioned blessings ~~~ bless Me a Lot Lord God ~~~ as I renew my spiritual path.

(excerpt taken from one of the (untitled) poems I’m working on for the newest collection of poetry)

“The path taken deepens under the twilight of my years;
the soft sands of time swept — brushed aside
by the hands of God,
giving way to a future filled with the softness and beauty
laid out before me — sweet as honey. 
I always knew this place;
In retrospect I can see it always was —
waiting — waiting — waiting for me to arrive!”

(content carries copyrights :) so please no re-posting)


happy national chocolate cake day

We Americans will celebrate anything — even give it a day of national recognition!
Today is National Chocolate Cake Day and although I suspect this day has more to do with commerce than cake
it is a kind of whimsical fun to have chocolate cake set apart from all other cakes and be so honored! 


A new twist to chocolate cake: Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake

Even Stationery stores love chocolate cake!

Stationery Trousseau in Columbus, Ohio is honoring this cake today and giving 27% off for three days on their stock of items for customers — no commerce there!  

And for the Bride who likes her Chocolate Cake!

Choco rose cake.pictured on Wikipedia

Choco rose cake.pictured on Wikipedia is perfect for any special occasion — like for a Bride (see white roses?) who wants a less traditional top layer on her wedding cake!

History of Chocolate Cake —

Chocolate cake is made with chocolate; it can be made with other ingredients, as well. These ingredients include fudge, vanilla creme, and other sweeteners. The history of chocolate cake goes back to 1764, when Dr. James Baker discovered how to make chocolate by grinding cocoa beans between two massive circular millstones.[1]

In 1828, Conrad Van Houten of the Netherlands developed a mechanical extraction method for extracting the fat from cacao liquor resulting in cacao butter and the partly defatted cacao, a compacted mass of solids that could be sold as it was “rock cacao” or ground into powder.[2] The processes transformed chocolate from an exclusive luxury to an inexpensive daily snack.[2] A process for making silkier and smoother chocolate called conching was developed in 1879 by Swiss Rodolphe and made it easier to bake with chocolate as it amalgamates smoothly and completely with cake batters.[2] Until 1890 to 1900, chocolate recipes were mostly for drinks.[2]

The Duff Company of Pittsburgh, a molasses manufacturer, introduced Devil’s food chocolate cake mixes in the mid 1930s, but introduction was put on hold duringWorld War IIDuncan Hines introduced a “Three Star Special” (so called because a white, yellow or chocolate cake could be made from the same mix) was introduced three years after cake mixes from General Mills and Duncan Hines, and took over 48 percent of the market.[3]

In the U.S., “chocolate decadence” cakes were popular in the 1980s; in the 1990s, single-serving molten chocolate cakes with liquid chocolate centers and infused chocolates with exotic flavors such as tea, curry, red pepper, passion fruit, and champagne were popular. Chocolate lounges and artisinal chocolate makers were popular in the 2000s.[4] Rich, flourless, all-but-flourless chocolate cakes are “now standard in the modern pâtisserie,” according to The New Taste of Chocolate.[2]

Awe is there anything more delicious than chocolate cake?

 German chocolate cake from a bakeryOur most popular cake. Of course anything choc...

Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater

William Wallace Denslow’s illustrations for Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, from a 1901 edition of Mother GooseOne of my all time favorite poems and one that my father said to me countless times is Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater.

One of my all time favorite poems is Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater but not because of the rhyme, rather for the memory of the countless times my father said it to me. He also recited Three Blind Mice quite often to me.  One might think — given Peter’s treatment of his wife not to mention three mice tails in jeopardy — my daddy was abusive by his pick of poetry to recite to a small child but the truth is he was a gentle soul with hands and arms like steel. He earned his living at the end of a hammer and hand saw, beginning at the lowest position. it is those days I remember the most. My father coming home covered in sawdust and construction grime, kissing Mama on her cheek, then washing up for super. I would look for him each day and he never disappointed. Always home from work on time and giving me a big hug before heading inside. When I was twelve we moved to Bonnie Street . Dad brought home a chalk board that he hung on the garage wall. It was then we began to leave each other messages each evening on the board (welcome home, sorry for the mason jar, Daddy  — and other such messages) which usually ended in I Love You. Looking back I think he did this because I was growing up and he wanted to preserve the evening ritual of my running up to him for his big hug. I think he knew in his father’s heart the day was coming that his little girl would wave from a neighbor’s front yard or the park down the street as he pulled into the drive.

Per Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia, the rhyme is not present in any of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century collections published in Britain. The first surviving version of the rhyme was published in Mother Goose’s Quarto: or Melodies Complete, in Boston, Massachusetts around 1825. However, a verse collected from Aberdeen Scotland and published in 1868 had the words:

Peter, my neeper,
Had a wife,
And he couidna’ keep her,
He pat her i’ the wa’,
And lat a’ the mice eat her.

As a result it is possible that the verse was an older one adapted to include pumpkins in America. This verse is also considered to be an older version of the rhyme Eeper Weeper

Eeper Weeper, chimbly sweeper,
Had a wife but couldn’t keep her.
Had another, didn’t love her,
Up the chimbly he did shove her.

Other versions exist, however it appears new verse has in many cases been tweaked to fit a specific purpose.  The following modern version is an example.

Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,
Had a wife but couldn’t keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well.
Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,
Had another and didn’t love her;
Peter learned to read and spell,
And then he loved her very well.

This gives me a new thought of how to decorate the front porch for Trick-R-Treat!


PEACE (from a collection of poetry by Mary Louise Wehunt)

Awareness without reaction — peaceful breezes flow
Let me serve you better and for our mutual good;
Your hurt is not mine to hold, it is only mine to know
As I help you let go of the frustration —

Do not let hurt rip at the fiber of your soul


Them Men In Blue

  1. A Tale of Fightin’ Blue Coats
  2. (poem-civil war-recollection)
  3. By: M L Wehunt
  4. July 9, 2012
  5. He sat near the open hearth
  6. reminiscing of the past and recollecting
  7. when he was nearer beginnings than endings
  8. before he was caught with his pants down.
  9. Eyes sullen he strokes at his salt & pepper hair
  10. pushing it backward over his forehead;
  11. it spitefully falls forward as if to say,
  12. I know what I am, leave me be — let me hang
  13. And likewise he knew what he was too –
  14. for sure and for certain he knew;
  15. he spoke it out-loud to the woman with the tablet in her hands
  16. who’d come to hear his words —
  17. He spoke with a natural southern softness and in the dialect of native region,
  18. but he spoke out the words with edged wit, even a hint of humor
  19. Them men in Blue coats never were to my liken;
  20. ne’er a truer thing have I spoken in all my sixty-two year,
  21. No, I never did like the color blue on a fight-‘en man –
  22. While I was in the fields being drug behind an ole mule, Sally was her name;
  23. Suspenders holding my trousers and sweat dripping off my brow
  24. like my Pa – beside me, who’d learnt me to cultivate the land proper;
  25. I saw them devils in blue coming over the ridge to the south of us,
  26. Them ill-desposed and ill-advised ilk of men, each one!
  27. Proud, those blue coats marched in as if they owned us
  28. and took all the eggs, even all the chickens they wanted
  29. and then they took stored bags of wheat and corn – they did this
  30. without a fight – ’cause that day we weren’t fighters;
  31. At nights fall that changed in me; after super filled my belly –
  32. Somewhere deep inside me the fight-en stirred and it came out
  33. like a balled up fist, lightening fast and bull strong and I swore no more;
  34. So in the dead of night I chased them chicken’s down!
  35. On a Sunday no less – and brought half back for our table.
  36. No other way to see that; no other way to react,
  37. Those good-old boys in gray never did pick us clean of wheat or corn
  38. and nary-a-one took a chicken egg unless offered to them and we did offer;
  39. seeing that they asked nice-like for what we could spare.
  40. After them blue coats had come; after that night I’d took them chickens back;
  41. That next day – I swore I’d walk away from all I know-ed
  42. and my Momma’s plea did not stop me for my head was fixed
  43. on what I was to do and what I was to do was fight them ilk of men
  44. who’d been take-one-more-step away from my fist two days before.
  45. So – at first light I left and joined up and the rest is history in the telling.
  46. He took breath into his lungs, a breath as deep as the sea past Pamlico Sound,
  47. past the sand dunes to the east, far to the east from where he sat; expelled it
  48. in one long stream of air coming from his nostrils; head bent, shoulders straight
  49. to the back of the solid beach-wood spindled rocking-chair in which he sat –
  50. MAMA always said Sundays are for church and little else;
  51. that didn’t stopped me from turning heathen, anyway, after
  52. I found the feel of a gray coat to my liken; but that was ’cause
  53. I found I like things my comrades taught me about;
  54. He spoke of liquor moistened lips and strong scented breath
  55. I run-ed through those woods caring this here muzzle I’m showing you
  56. and fled from all I know-ed that was right by Mama’s standards
  57. and shot straight and true at anything blue and I was nearly always dead on.
  58. He smiled – but that was a long time ago and I kept my stories silent until her passing.
  59. Near-do-good my Mama would have said had she know-ed of my heathen ways;
  60. which I held from her for near on forty years now; she never knew those
  61. men in blue had done more to that boy of hers than taking away her chicken eggs.
  62. But, she’s at rest now so let the telling begin; only once and then we’ll let it be.
  63. I was partial to the sweet smell of fresh pine saplings in the spring time
  64. and worked along side my Pa like a good boy should until them Yanks came calling
  65. then I found myself in a predicament of momentous proportions given that I acted
  66. like a fool of a sapling boy, not like those pine saplings that a strong wind could bend!
  67. I just could not bend and I couldn’t take it either and I wasn’t goin’-a neither!
  68. I was bent in all different directions, at any one’s will it seemed, other than mine.
  69. It was my sixteenth year and I was doing my will by God Almighty; although I did not know
  70. what it was I was to do at first so they put me to cleaning stuff and shoveling stuff
  71. and such as that; but that didn’t last long for before long I was in the thick of things –
  72. Shots all around me and nowhere to duck I landed face down in a thicket not padded for landing –
  73. and wishing I’d found another place to dive into but there I was, face down, shots all around and
  74. with only a shovel as a weapon I was no match for those blue coats who were hell bent
  75. on pick-en us off one by one which I was not all that abiding about doing – not one bit.
  76. Then off to the northeast I spotted them – coming through the musket powder fog; our men!
  77. And all hell broke loose, first I saw one, then two, then I don’t know how many that fell
  78. the day I saw a real battle of wills and when it was all over we all – all that was left –
  79. blue and grey got to yelling at each other across the field about exchanging coffee for tobacco.
  80. That’s when it got to hit me like a shipwreck straight ahead – I was not a any truer fight-en
  81. man than those other fellows across the field – both were dug in alike – and there was no
  82. grey or blue difference twixt us but where we came from and that got me thinking real clear
  83. of what I was going to do next and what I was going to do next was unfitting a fight-em man.
  84. The last thing my Pa said to me was if I was to do this thing I was not to bring shame –
  85. And I was to come home alive or he’d kill me again, he said this with a slight chuckled serious nature;
  86. as my Pa would do, then she noted as much with pencil working hard on tablet  — to capture all that was said.
  87. I found myself with some apples some old lady had gave me the day before and I yelled out
  88. “apples for coffee” and was taken up on the offer before I could blink twice, straight away it was;
  89. And all that was left was to figure out how the swap was going to happen – this was not too clear to me
  90. but the other feller must have spotted a tree stump and yelled it out and said ‘you go first’ and I did.
  91. That was the best cup of coffee I’d ever had in all my up to then years and it was due to one of those men in blue;
  92. He chuckled – can’t tell you why I yelled out coffee except-en it sounded better than yelling out tobacco for apple.
  93. But, the fellers I was with was glad for it ’cause they hadn’t taken a liken to tobacco then either;
  94. that came later – a lot of things came later.
  95. He became quiet. The reminiscing seemed over so she placed the tablet down and they sat for a while, in silence.

Monday’s belong to the Devil’s child….

…..or Satan’s lot. Take your pick: either way Monday’s are evil.

Early roll out of bed
Vanity put aside
Issues reality of fact; that
Life is not lived for week-end’s pleasures alone!

Monday’s are, truth be told
Only the beginning to: another realm
No one wants to enter;
Disguised as pushing life forward for our benefit;
Any-time you doubt this stand up and
Yell: On-Ward-HO with absolute and unequivocal voice to
Stay the course whilst you long for another week-end to approach, soon: please!

Monday is an evil day!

Space Dust (a poem)

Space Dust

(Mary Louise Wehunt, *copyright material)

Smiles and kindness
Is how I choose survival
Not days of obscure
Nebular darkness

Space dust
Clear out the
Recesses of my mind;
Clear out I tell you!

I want to live
Out of the abyss
And shower myself
in the rays of the sunlight

Space dust
Clear out the
Recesses of my mind;
Clear out I tell you!

*reposting/reprinting prohibited without author permission (for permission contact author at mlwehunt@gmail.com)