Jacqueline Elaine Hudson
Bio
She is a natural-born scribe penning from her cup. Healing has expunged her sorrows, trampled over her woes & yields straightening (like a hot comb) to the crooked places. Every pen she crafts is protected Ⓒ Apostle Jacqueline Hudson.
Stories (16)
Filter by community
Pocket Full Of Forget-Me-Nots
Holding love so close and yet still not tangible. Letting go of a fading memory sets the embers of love to dissipate. With every memory there is a constant fragrance of bitterness only two hearts are keenly aware. Moments become memories held in tandem, ain’t no way it could’ve been random. Even if the dreams were a host, it went coast to coast with a line drawn in the sand. Our hearts simultaneously forecast an image of thoughts intertwined as a remedy for destiny. Carrying a familiar torch with a glaring hue of a pocket full of forget-me-nots, extracted from the wells she once knew. Captivated in his mind, measurements inclined, in a special way he prepared their culinary delights. Motivation in his thoughts is a tasteful reflection created in each and every bite. He never held back each time his talents were in the light. It was an array of his love which he could not convey his true heart to her until the hour of Gods delight. His heart and hands showed his love for her more than he knew, in every meal he made you could see her face cutting right to the chase. The two hit the jackpot of love showing on the nape of his neck. A fiery red burst like the shape of her heart. A melting pot of bated breath, each meal better than the last, mirroring two beating hearts of their first meeting, succinctly carved after Gods own heart. Forget me nots arranged in a locket floating around just like the first time their eyes met; both snubbed each other as butterflies were the partners to this symposium of love. No one ever knew the musical genre selections was the sound guiding the two swans to an epiphany hoping a destiny promised, would not go back on its word. Although vastly askew, the cords carried melodies that caused heart felt pitter-patter marking a new dynasty. Remembering that day so vividly, a pocket full of love turned into forget-me-nots. The onlookers couldn’t fathom a love so true until their eyes locked, finding the dream lying under the oak tree. A pocket full of forget-me-nots revealed; happy as can be, lit up like a Christmas tree.
By Jacqueline Elaine Hudson4 months ago in Poets
The Keyhole Prism Speaks
The keyhole ingrained sights through the prism that spoke volumes, to all who could see. This keyhole prism is a gateway containing missions undone from long ago. Catapulting anyone who looks into the gateway chamber. What chimes in the ears of those who look; there is nothing new under the sun. Something to ponder, the latter-house has been stretched and set in motion for movement at a higher altitude. As the sightings take place through the ascending keyhole, charting a course of correction. The lineage that had been blocked for centuries is now freed. Where did it all begin? It started with let there be light. Lo and behold, there was light. For the prism of the latter-house is in full swing and established. Now, there isn’t a formidable question of today. There is an answer stemming from yesteryear. As freedom has been designated and the correction has been heralded aloud. The Lord corrects those He loves.
By Jacqueline Elaine Hudson5 months ago in Fiction
