Collection of poems from Bertha Jones Moore Black. In her words:
“I think a lot, may not always be right, but I think a lot. I write about what I think – people, places, and things. As a child I would spend my after-school time, and all day during summer vacation, down at the lake where I would make up things to write about. During my childhood, in Florida, there was lakes all over, before all the building and roads. Some of the lakes was filled in to make way for those things, and most of the ones that remained was made private. There is not much ‘outdoor’ left in the city where I grew up. It is now one of Florida’s largest and busiest cities. Beautiful Orlando. There are so many memories to each page of this book. The memories of my husband, my mom, two sisters, and two nieces. Each of these people left me a treasure of warmth and happiness that we shared thru our lives together. They stayed in my life for what seem so short a time, but forever would not have been long enough.”
My mom raised seven children alone. I am next to the oldest of the seven. There was no food stamps or welfare to help her, so she worked three jobs and still made less than $50 a week. I was twelve when I started to work. My sister (3rd oldest) and I would pick peaches during the day. The bus would pick us up and bring us home. Later, the bus would come back, and we would go to the packing house to work the night shift. I moved to the Orlando area when I was 12 and lived there until 2012, when I relocated to my current home in Griffin, Georgia.
I may not always be right, but I think a lot. I write about what I think – people, places, and things. As a child I would spend my after-school time, and all day during summer vacation, down at the lake, where I would make up things to write about.
There are so many memories to each page of this book. The memories of my husband, my mom, two sisters, and two nieces. Each of these people left me a treasure of warmth and happiness that we shared through our lives together. They stayed in my life for what seems so short a time, but forever would not have been long enough.