Walnut Hill

By Val Little Wolf

High on a hill down a lonely bit of road sits and old brick house,
Seeking refuge wandering down a road of dirt and stone,
I happened as if on an adventure finding an old familiar friend.
The turn off the road of Valley Burg heading toward Stony Man,
A small hamlet wasted from time it stands.
Upon Walnut Hill Road a mere rock throw upon this road the turn lies,
A home once own by a family name of Prince.
The lane whines gently like a melody of Chopin’s not like a cadence from a long forgotten war.
The road starts toward the brick home that calls me from a time in another re-incarnation.
I know this place, I feel it serge through me like a forgotten call.
My hand rests, gently upon the wall of the little cemetery.
The most predominate stone close to the earth rises the intensity of power held earthbound the grand old lady’s
protection for her home still guards this land.
Back in Georgia my little Geo we ride the 70 feet toward the house fierce and Private,
She shouts, but not “Go Away”,
I feel welcome Home; I know this house from the ground I stand upon;
To the stairs curiously pulls me up the steps as mystery plays within my senses.
The death that occurred here spirit holds this house.
Touching a window pain,”Bam it was as if I was forced back from the pain of the window.”
A Jab had tingled it’s way through my finger tips. Upon the wall many pictures hung.
I haven’t these three years traveled by this grand ole Virginia home.
Delight of her holds me captive, This Grand ole lady has known much.
Over two hundred years she has stood, proud, faithful waiting her fallen dead.
Of all the homes near Luray, Va. That hold me spell bound it is she who has captivated my soul and spirited me away.
This house, serine bound to the future held by the past. It is here that I long to sit upon her porch. To be one in spirit with the one that still remains here.

“Walnut Hill”3/24/2005 7:22:50 PM

By Val Littlewolf (2001)

She stands

Smell of the fall all around,

Leaves blowing circles,
Squirrels storing nuts,
The old house built in 1779,
Stands the test of time, a reminder of years gone by,
Like a castle, my castle!
Towers watching towers keep.
The wind rustles throw a pulled apart old tattered from age curtain.
In the quick of my eye as if within a breath, she stood.
Etched within a moment in time,
My air stopping in gulps, she was naked from head to toe.
Her eyes rested on something, but...
They saw not the wandering poet standing upon the ground looking up,
People the day before had spun a yarn to me of a Grand ole Lady,
Who with held much in the story of a house?
She wasn’t located upon Beacon Hill,
The cliffs around her weren’t called Dover.
Here’s built this house where time did not fare well,

They told me of her lady and her lost love,

I was told much but not of the beauty that hailed her unseen visitor,
They told of a spirit who could not fine rest.
She stood, with closer inspection near the scrap of curtain one nipple exposed,
Sorrow forms into a frown upon her lovely dark brow,
Ebony as evening, lovely, taut breast tantalize my gaze,
Then as if a door shut she was gone.
So realistic was my vision and memory so clear when I reached my door,
Grabbing paper and pen I sketched this lady,
Darlene, beautiful, black woman captured my heart and soul,.
It was as if the memory of her had been lost to me now to return,
New and fresh,

An irrational realty holds me, wet with thoughts of her within my bed,
I would wait and watch, more praying for her to return then not,
I finally came to the truth of the matter I cared less to look upon her then I did,
The dream of touching her, the mere thought of this colored my pale cheeks.
A fortnight had pasted nothing, no vision did I view.
Then as if she knew what I wished for, hoped for she bid me enter her home.
For as surely as I wanted to see her again, I had no desire to enter her home,
Mustering my courage I lightly stomped up the stairs.

The eeriness that beckoned to me with the dampness of closed windows and old air,
They Compelled me to feel physically sick.
Weirdness ran throw my body, down arms to my very fingertips.
Then I shook and realized that I was just on the porch and the coldness I held was an old, doorknob.
It was like Halloween had returned; CREEK went the big old oak door.
It was magic there I stood where time had just STOPPED!
Somewhere deep in the house music played 1920’s flapper, The Charleston”,
“What fun, I thought, why I didn’t know!
The sound of an Edison early twenties record player,
Candles stood as if naked soldiers protected from aging,
I lit one the light of it magically filled the entire hall where I stood.
The house appeared alive,
My teeth started to chatter, heart pounding trying to burst out!
My hair tingled like it does when someone is near,
My mouth that felt like to this point it had held the Sahara Desert, Went Wet,
The again so, so very dry,

With an invisible WHOOORRROOSH the fire sprang to life.

Boy howdy I was in need of a seat,
The needed chair was made ready to ketch me as I naturally sat down,
A near piano’s keys rippled to life.
I never to that point in life felt the real sense of belonging that that one instance
Filled within me to my very soul.
I now felt the spirit; she stood so very near me,
Her cold yet surprisingly firm fingers slid over my closed hand.
She wanted the companionship I so longed for.

With that one simple touch I saw how life had wronged her.
A cold chill briefly consumed me then I rose and engulfed her to me.
I had forgotten or thought not of her not feeling me,
Thought nothing that she might vanish and leave me lost in this world.
Within that one moment I felt all the love I had never had.
She caressed my face, words raced in my mind it’s not real, it can’t be!
But, then I had, had this internal battle waging within for decades as well,
The cold, loneliness’ of being in someoneelses world, empty and alone,
My own fingers gently brushed her cheeks, funny I thought her face hot,
Burning my fingertips, the fire still blazed.
A salty tear ran from her eyes, just one,
It bridged our souls; she was no longer a ghost,
No longer a figment of my imagination,
This was beyond believe, what great fun I thought the spirits were having with me.
I watched her lovely mouth as I not gracefully mind you fell backwards to land in a heap.

Recalling the soundless word,” Don’t go! Please Stay!

It was as if the air around us changed.
She hadn’t felt any emotion for a very long time, and then she was gone.
Looking up I felt a hand upon my shoulder, rising from the dirt keeping my eyes upon the
Ground I hastened up.
I feared looking upon her for if she was just a memory I wanted her to stay,
More then I wanted life itself,
Life held no charm for me if she were out of my grasp.
How could I vanish the pain and tears of another in another time?
With a thunder to beat all others and a crash stronger the any the Great Spirit had done the impossible.
The choice had been given to her,
The kiss was mine she stood so near,
So sensuous the kiss mine, hers, ours,
Steps behind us were heard; bright candles white and pristine filled the room.
My knees buckled as if kicked in the stomach I wished for death,
Faintly, I heard, “Hello, Hello!”
Slowly I looked up,
She stood there, “Thank God I said”,
“I’m dead!” I wasn’t my angel was human,
She said that she had just inherited the old house,
The sun filled the moments earlier fire warmed room.
Upon the far wall a wall hanging hung of a standing portrait,
Painted in 1900,
Elizabeth Barrette Duggan, she went over and gently touched the plaque,
It’s me Echoed through my mind,
Standing slightly behind and to the left, there I stood,
How can that be!

My lady stands with me, hand in hand.

My eyes returned to the plaque it needs a good cleaning I barely make out
These words, “Not knowing what tomorrow will bring, our hearts will share,
It made no sense; once again I looked to the woman who had bought my Old Lady.
She smiled a smile of knowing,
Was my illusion mere fancy or did it bare more truth then fiction.
This Lady, new, not different came to me, with tenderness and care brushed a fleck of dust from my brow.
Leaned in close and whispered the future is ours the past is gone,

Today as I stretch arms folded behind my head with a smile

piercing upon her face as she
Looks naked from our window now only seeing me.
I remember less and less of our second meeting when
I looked upon me in my maids
uniform standing behind and
to the left of
my lady love in the painting that is now
seen only in private.
Our in a sense Dorian Gray,
History true in all its beauty does have a wicked sense of humor,
Those that are together with love will always seek out each other and
the only power stronger then death,

Is love!

The Sock
Written November
1998
Upon the Car rests, one shoe,
Standing upon the hill memories flood past my minds eye,
I remember the sound of metal,
Memories of that tragic night,
With tears in my eyes,
Hurt of his UN -wiliness to accept, unable to understand,
Memories of his words,
Echoing in my ears,
The cold look in his empty eyes,
Unable to accept our love,
She was my heart, my PASSION,
Searched long for finely we found hope,
Then like HELL breaking loose,
Peace was gone,
Trying to fight for her,
Thorough his anger he pulled the revolver he carried,
Funny you don’t hear the gun,
It seems to be bigger then the moon,
Blocks out all else in your vision,
When it rips its way home, its more shock then pain,
I heard her scream!
When I came to, they were GONE.
GONE, GONE!
Holding my side, tears in my eyes,
Blood seeping from me, my life slipping from me,
Nothing matters anymore,
Alone again,
So Alone,
Then I know not how I stood upon that hill,
Bending down I picked up a sock,
Standing up, I felt her hand in mine,
Tears burst forth; it was like coming home,
Both dead, peaces forever,
No one could object, or hurt us again,
No longer alone,
Jun. 29, 2009
6/29/2009 10:39 PM

I sat in the den dying,

By Val Littlewolf Heike
Blood draining from my heart racing through my open vein,
All these years I protected her,
She didn’t care or see the pain her husband caused me,
She cared only for her first daughter and nothing I ever tried mattered,
Whatever her bossy daughter wanted was all that mattered,
I had given up much to care for her,
They talked and laughed as I died,
All that mattered was Diana,
She was all; no one else counted in her heart,
As my last breathe came in gasp my gifts were set on the curb,
Texas, Diana and her boyfriend matter more than me,
All those times when I cared for her she wished me dead,
So I go now for what awaits,
No tears will fall from her; contend within Diana’s view….
I Die!

By Val Littlewolf (2001)

Words Are...

A poem is like a picture for the mind,

The possibilities are infinite,
The words form delightfully in our minds,
They the words allow smells, aromas, all the senses to be realized,
They command like conductors conducting our five senses, by Val Littlewolf

Words seen within the heart of a Poet,

By Val Littlewolf

Things and love of this poet

Hot tea, have drank and loved Hot tea for 47 years,
Earl Grey is my favorite,
I love women tall and short,
Shortbread cookies in hot tea, dunked,
Warm sun dazed days perched upon a hill or mountain,
Virginia’s mountains call me home,
Fellowship in my the community I own, not the straight one of force membership,
To stand tall void of the suspicion others think I am of no worth,
Sitting behind Shenandoah Lodge in the Shenandoah National Park,
Early morning’s clouds first kiss of day touches down a hand reach away,
The breeze mingles with the fog appearing as one with the clouds,
I love Oreos with peanut butter frosting between the cookies,
Those are the best because the frosting lifts effortlessly from between the cookie, in that way each cookie is like two treats, Milky Way candy bars,
Because they are really three treats,
The chocolate around the outside, the nougat and last the top with the caramel,
Twix cookie bar is my second favorite (why one might wonder),
The consist of three items chocolate, awesome caramel and shortbread cookies,
Shortbread is best dunked of course,

Christmas hearts bear true,

By Val Littlewolf
A house warm, forgotten words that bore pain,
Bells chime: The den is full, my beating heart stirs,
Across from me sit my two beautiful nephews,
Fine young men, Daniel and Craig,
Both beautiful and well,
The kitchen stirs mother up till 4 a.m. with rest of four hours,
Baby Ellen assists with the cleaning up of Christmas lunch,
White Christmas snow covers everything,
2008 nearly at a close,
Only One more Christmas, in 2010 I plan on transferring to another school,

Ellen, El-Bell My baby-sister,

Wrote December 14th, 2008

Battled the evil foe, the deadly killer that is Cancer,

November, though a blizzard her elder sister came,
Concerned about El-bells health,
According to her Doctor the cancer because of the surgery is gone,
I asked a classmate to tell Ellen’s son,
Call your Mom but when he did he blamed me for telling him,
Life is funny, life is sad, for the next six weeks Ellen will endure,
Radiation treatments every day Monday to Friday for six weeks,
Years ago I spend what seemed like years making sure that everyone was happy; it made me less worth less.
Homeless for the last three years I find loneliness’s sadness is extremely,
Bitterly, uncomfortably painful, not worthy of living if it’s alone in others world,
Darkness of my youth was overwhelming and consumed my days growing up.
Forty years in the closet, in a corner underneath an old coat.
Last three years seen by my family as weak,
As God mother I simply wanted her eldest son to call and see how she was,
Now I’m been urged to tell her I’m sorry for getting involved,
A friend upon her mantle rested a plaque, upon which is stated:
“If you make your day allowing others to see you as less then who you are,
You cheat yourself by being false to yourself.”
It is easier being honest with yourself when others admit to seeing you’re “Rights”
Equality others seems invisible to those that refuse to see their children as Gay.
I am Gay, Proud and I refuse to back down for trying to help,
I will try to live the next fifty years like my Friend Jane would want me to.

The thoughts….

Written in 2005 by V. Little Wolf

It seems like yester – day, I smiled back at her,

We shared a bed and Played Harry Potter,
We laughed; I rushed to her re-scue ….
I made the calls to keep her car from being re-posed,
She smiled when I thought of her enough to call and say I love you,
I paid for this and for that; why not I loved her.
The thoughts rush through me feelings tinkle,
It was the first time I admitted to myself I deserved to feel,
How was loving her, desires want was overtaking me,
How could it have been wrong?
I would smile watching her move,
Her nipples hard rose and fell and I would smile.
Was this happiness?
Want was consuming thoughts, night and day entwined
Did she love me she said she did?
Then a friend moved into the picture I heard her say those immortal words,
But they weren’t for me,
She said them out loud within my hearing” “I love her to death but,’
My heart Stopped.
In that moment I forgot to breathe. Was it a week or longer then as she spoke to others a question was asked and a statement was made.
What are you doing next weekend? I’m moving?
MY heart skipped beats felt like it had “STOPPED, BEATING.”
Is this death was like…
Last May she had left our bedroom and moved into the little room.
I had lost my car; I had lost a purpose I no longer was of use.
It was then that I thought I had started to die!
She invited the Jehovah Witness’s to my home for Bible study; I was told they hated me as much as I disliked them.
Funny how people view others yet doesn’t really see them.
Thinking and your heart don’t on the whole go hand in hand.
Loving with my whole heart trying for a better future for myself pushing myself to succeed is all I can go I guess.
I live and hope that destiny will take her hand and lead her to me,
As it is written somewhere I am a lover of women with a good strong heart,
Success is nothing if it holds loneliness.
I guess that is the truth that lies alone within my heart.
Fierce, passionate, romantic, poet, good lover these are who I am,
These are my Thoughts, for now,
This was a terribly hot day in June the 11th, 2005 8:34 P.M.

Dedicated to John Gunning my friend, scrabble partner, Jane’s Dad and an unworthy poet.

@$#%&*******

Bang, Clang, Dang”“”“”“”“”“,

Whoomp, Funkle, Thunk,
What!
I said WHAT!
Clunky, Dank, Bump.
Words are his melody,
A poet at heart, though his words fell with lectures,
Tilllllll, Till,
Let’s go back, time flee from our eyes,
Images change.

Our Passions become unknown to us,

We stand looking through a doorway,
There sits a boy not nine.
Salt of his father,
His heart his mother,
A name is felt more then heard,
John!
John, the name fills the kitchen.
The boy looks up!
“Yes, dear, John sits in the warmth of his kitchen in Ithaca, New York,
Recalling the love that honored him for fifty years,
The warmth he still felt of her hand in his,
Silent tears dry upon his cheek,
Memories of her laugh and the joy she took from her two girls,
Jane and Ellen, Jane her youngest,
Jack Gunning had held her, loved her and cherished her,
Cancer took her too soon,
Years of love he would have gave her,
Poems he wrote to fight the second war,
In WWII he wore America’s colors,
Feigning danger with every turn, driving officer’s jeeps to and fro,
Upon the battle field facing a foe no weapon in hand,
They his wife and John fought with valor and diligence,
Armed with love, together,
Still when the end came, near her bed sat Jack,
Clutching her sweet gentle, loving hand in his,
She with grace and love slipped away,
Jane and Ellen his two girls, saw their dad holding his own,
They assumed he was fine,
Love is funning and painful no one feels for us,
Pain and the feel of lose is owned by us all,
Jack release came is working for hospice and writing of his love,
Not really lost, always at hand,
Still today her spirit walks with him,
Forever, love is that way.

Ann Gunning,
When Ann his lover, Partner, Pal and Friend Left his side but never his heart,
Became a poet to help mend his broken heart,
His words sang with his love,
His daughters see him as Dad.
This poet and Friend know he is, Lover of Words, Scrabble player,
Friend to Shakespeare, he is never lost in his room Beethoven’s music flies from his
Stereo,
Arms up Stretched conducting a imaginary orchestra,
Here’s to you my Good Friend with tear in left eye I Wish you Joy!
Blessings to You!
Bang,*&^%$##@, Goes the Drum,
Happy Birthday 2004 POPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!
NoOOOOOOOOO!
Not Pop.
POPS,

With a chill, a shutter and a quiver’’’’’’

By Val Littlewolf
The music fills the air as my fingers twinkle with unspoken words,
The chill of Christmas early mourn filling an unquiet spirit,
The lady last year who held my heart and my dreams sleeps in yond bedchamber.
While I sit here, listening to Elton’s music ripple through my veins.
The grave, yard beyond the trees ghostly patrons watch the poor poet,
No one to love,
Still within her heart a fire burns for the one who sleeps,
What a restless fool,
A chorus in the dark, sing, “Poor poet lost in a hopeless emptiness.”
Breathing, seeing yet not,
Where did sonnets go?
Born in the wrong sex in the wrong century, so many thoughts,
Pity I live in a world without love or rights.
Christianity seems content to claim they are believers in a man,
A man that walked two thousand years ago,
Born in poverty that was all about love,
Those that claim association to the man who became known as “The Christ”,
See with hatred toward all that appear different in all ways to themselves.
I wear one earring in my left ear because I belong to me, Val.
I thought I belonged, No peace, No peace!
Peace on Earth how can that be when Americans die in foreign fields,
Upon enemy ground,
Thoughts raise hell in my empty lonely heart,
How can things change, where was I, Why couldn’t she feel my heart with my touch,
Am I the only one that can feel with a breath?
How can I sit across the room and watch her and still want only her touch,
When she sits study at the computer from foot to knee she is all women.
A quiver is sent through me igniting a fire that she says she feels nothing,
Why can I still feel her heart even when she tries so hard to hurt me?
Her nipples so very hard all the time, stirring me to such unquenchable passion.
She cares nothing for me.
Under the same roof no longer does her body warm my bed?
How can I pretend that I’m Happy it’s Christmas,
Twelve months ago she was mine.
Now she watches me from her bedroom door, now she’s gone.
I ask you my reader to please assist me I’m new at such a lost of so much blood,
She was mine for a year and a half, I am her victim and as sure as I sit her wishing she were in our bed awaiting me,
Naked, luscious tempting, my mouth waters from the thought,
My appetite needs to be appeased for it has surely been a horrid long spell since I have lain within the length of such fair lovely legs,
Arousing, the most secret tender, sweet, warm, wet passages,
Laps, slap at memory as I recall my passion for her,
Waves of passion, consuming memory,
I can still recall within my hearing the beating of our two hearts,
I have had other lovers not caused such anguish.
And so on this early Christmas morn in 2004 I bid you adieu with a
Chill, a shutter and a Quiver and a BANG!
Why a bang, Why not, God save you all Thank you from the bottom of a
Psychology Student, House and Pet Sitting but mostly a Butch Wisconsin,
Black Hills and Virginia,
And lease but not last…
A lover of woman and a Poet,
Val Littlewolf

Cats,
By Pearl Heike
This morning seems to noisy and bigger then normal,
Theodore jumps here and there,
No one takes into consideration I’m only three months old.
I can’t seem to be still,
Now, how did that fall off!
“Mom, I didn’t do it, it was Theodore!”
“Oh, no I can’t get that ugly big Pipe back up on the shelf, here comes Mom!”
Something told me not to touch that.
#$@&&++ Rats!
I wonder if small adults like quiet time better then me!
No, one seems to here me yell, Mommy.
I won’t do it again!
I’ll be good, after all Moms, I’m only three months old I’m just a….
Kitten,
“Boy, Howdy I can’t Waite till I’m cool like Theodore my new big brother.”
He is Cool, he is a Cat.
Now Theodore who usually just looks at her and thinks, “Now what are you up to?”
Theodore appeared upon the table, to plead for Pearl.
Come on Mom, let her out!
With the opening of the door, out went the spirit of my world.
The clown was un-restrained into the world owned by her.
A world No-one has the right to tell her be different,
Don’t be honest with who you are or what you want.
Hide your gifts under a basket and blend in with the straight world.
Well Cher is off, new tunes need put in,
I wish there were some way to restrain my little Pearl from bounding upon the table and stepping on the keyboard.
I don’t think she will ever get, Annoy Mom take a nap.

My Love
My Love
My love rises when I’m sick, grabs her jeans,
Jumps in snow boots, brushes by me, keys in hand,
As I turn her whispers in the air around my head,
Love you, I Love You!
The middle of the room caught, my stolen white pine,
Christmas poor in our home,
Our love enriched our home,
My lover, my girl,
My heart.
Val Littlewolf
Copyright ©2004 Val Littlewolf

Skyward

Skyward
Skyward...
Upon the ledge an old wolf sits.
Stars brighten lighting the dim.
Diamonds sparkle in a sea of black,
Silent blows the wind,
Clouds dance,
Lover’s party
Memories of her fill my heart.
The world, I am,
Alone again,
One tear slides dawn my furry face,
We had all our tomorrows,
Now others keep the tomorrows
My days are numbered,
Destiny is written on the wind.
Stars glides upon eagles wing.
Val Littlewolf
Copyright ©2004 Val Littlewolf

She Rocks
She Rocks
Erotically, changing, over full of life,
Washing across the rocks of the banks
Muddy River, that grand old Mississippi,
While tossed upon the waves,
Motion moving current,
Violent, full of sound,
Wind everywhere,
Touching you like electricity,
Instantly in a moment,
She rocks,
No music audible,
Timeless,
Perfectly, perfect,
She's lovely,
Muddy ole lady,
My heart stops,
I'm in love,
I had found, a lover, a partner,
No friend
A peace
Val Littlewolf
Copyright ©2004 Val Littlewolf

The Journey

The fog lifts,

A meadow appears,
A fox stalks,
The circle of life revolves,
The ole Shenandoah rolls,
Each to our own path,
My friend Shirley, will never know
What her time meant to me, with the fixing of
A small bracelet,
So I spend time to share my thanks to her,
With all who journey by this sight,
And she sits reading this poem.
Val Whitewolf
Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

Friends Say
Friends say,” Boy Val, you spell terrible!"
You need and editor,
Let me proof it before you share a poem,
I just say I’m going through a bad spell,
They advise me that people I care deeply for are wrong for me,
Always tiring to guide me,
My friends, my chosen family,
Noone knows my heart but me.
To share all I am takes words,
Not stanzas,
Just poems littering a page,
While the fires that consume me blaze,
This is when I’m most alive,
It’s not with a lover,
People, who know, No think they know me,
Will say what she was thinking!
This wasn’t edited!
Like the Author, it’s not perfect.
It’s just me having a bad spell.

Not Allowed
Not allowed to marry, No, No not that!
We can't stand proud and shout!
In countries colors, Proud and free,
Be asked out loud, Are you! And say yes!
We can be unemployed in Virginia.
Been unemployed for 6 months, they smile.
Lost my car, have no money, still have heart.
Like the small month old kitten upon my arm,
Heart hardened to their words.
Rebekah cries within my ears,
Funny how these Christians have no heart.

Val Littlewolf

Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

Val Lttlewolf

What once was, is no more,

When I was small that name fit,
Val to family and foe,
Out of a cocoon, I speed my winds,
Stretching out the kinks, limbering up,
As if change comes with one good shake,
I emerged out, full of the Great Spirit,
My circle that life is becoming complete,
My horizon clears away, no longer alone,
No longer, Valerie k. Heike,
Standing proud evil spirits fleeing,
The prairie and sage inhaled,
Facing my past, viewing my future,
Like the wolf, I am,
I shout, loud and proud my chosen name,
Val Little Whitewolf.
Val Little Whitewolf

Copyright ©2005 Val Little Whitewolf

A Big Kid, Still Only 12

I have lived 44 yrs in beauty,
My friend’s diversed,
Upon concrete, with no mats I work,
For bosses that see only their own perks,
Circulation gone in one leg,
Left knee, no longer like a 12yr, old,
Still I cry with Walt Disney,
Muffets still make me howl,
The duke & Elvis still out shine others,
Nearly unemployed, my home the Shenandoah national park, nearly closed.
Soon no job or home.
New idea of returning to school for computer animation,
Calling me forward, like Chester from gun smoke I limp along.
My shell aging, within this old wolfs heart
Still in my heart of hearts I am only 12.

Val Littlewolf
Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

A Kiss
A kiss is a moment in time,
Lingering with every sensation,
A letter is not mere words,
A song rhythmic in proportion,
Somber, melodic, vibrant in sound,
Meaningful, promising of loves tomorrow,
Not lies or maybes,
Something likes love
Take time and energy,
And most of all,
Heart.
Like unto a kiss.

Val Littlewolf

Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

Equality
Equality deals with liberty,
Freedom to work in a good clean environment,
Freedom to strive to achieve goals of advancement,
Fought for rights,
Rights paid for in blood,
American blood,
A good wage, a chance to advance deigned
Diversed individuals,
Others advance, extra hours awarded,
While feelings resentment build toward others,
Feelings of being pushed out,
Like a kind of death of the spirit.
Equal wage, unionistic talk deigned,
Threat of firing, stills resort workers
Voice.
Val Littlewolf
Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

The Trouble…
Trouble comes when people try to be God,
Taking words spoke, heard over two thousand, years ago.
The bible, series of stories told to Son from, Father.
Where as the American constitution,
Written just two hundred odd years ago is constantly being, altered.
Things change, one thing remains the same,
We all are given by God vocation, uniquely ours.
Like serving God, others say if you’re gay God no longer,
Somewhere out there wants you, that your love of Him or others is UN- important.
How dare them! How can my heart and soul sing?

We should have the right to love God and sing His praise.
Where can we go to sing together?
We love hard and our faith is strong.
Together we can move mountains together we are strong and can't be moved.

The Ledge
There upon a ledge the fly rests,
Starring through the glass,
The world beyond bacons,
The silent clamber of living things
Become the want of the life the fly and I seek.
When alone on a mountain being gay loneliness is beyond pain.
The fly and I dream of the pleasure of belonging,
And of love of a mate,
And the words, no longer shutout,
No longer alone, to be part of someone,
To share life with another’s hand in mine,
That is all anyone Gay want.
This is not a free country when, not all Americans
Straight people’s government survive with taxes from us,
Yet Gays and lesbians are seen as unequal in their eyes.

Time Flees
Perhaps, maybe good words,
Time is fleeting,
Moments scatter like words on the wind,
I have found that I rush through the week,
Purely to return to Tuesday,
If one human can save a rain forest,
Then surely, one group brings worth to,
This most humble poet,
Svgla allows me the sense of belonging,
The warmth that eludes me in the straight World,

Lives within this special group of

Individuals, diverse, wonderful, fantastic,

Club if you will, welcomes me,

Like an oasis quenching my thirst, like water to a thirsty camel.
Thank you a for making time more bearable,

Val Littlewolf

Copyright ©2005 Val Littlewolf

Stars blinking,

The Great Spirit controls the heavens,

You like the brightest star burns deep, in my heart.
One with you, my hand in yours,
I say my prayers, wishing upon a star,
Twilight star bright, this I pray,
Great Spirit guard her,
I give you my life, she has my heart,
She is all I ever want,
Barbara you honor me!
With this heart in your hands,
Ready to die, your tears mine,
My days, nights yours,
Twilight star bright,
Littlewolf.

Shall we Dance…[2]
By V. Littlewolf

Shall we dance pulled me in and held me,

Captured me, caressingly tender,
I sat and watched the excitement build in the
Heart thumping romantic tango,
It had been longer then I care to recall that I felt [1]
The rush, ooola la~
The DVD remote back button repeated the process
Returning to her embrace, to the very beginning.
Richard Geer is wonderful my mom refused to view it why you might well wonder,
Why! Simple in her mind now that he has turned gay,
A gay actor before he came out and a great actor,
Still a great actor became better within my mind;
Coming out did that,
Made him appealing to me, Just as jaylo was never of interest to me till that dance.
That dance filled my mind with thoughts of holding and loving.

Lying upon the ground my eyes ride the clouds,

Memories of yesterday’s truth burn within my mind,
Yesterdays tear stains my sorrowful face,
Still jobless yet within a poets world I'm O.K.
I see more for my tomorrow
Words like I love you but not in that way,
I have had three women try to steal a warrior’s peace.

Thanksgiving Day

Today, do you ever wonder what if you were dead? What would have occurred, what or who

would have hurt more for it? Today I found myself wondering, I had to assist mom who is 83 and in

need of a new knee to stand up, then I had to help her as she leaned on her lesbian daughter for support

to simply get out of a chair. I found myself wondering if she ever thought maybe it is time that I support her

for being the terrific daughter she is whether Gay or straight. I bet she will never have such deep thoughts.

. The day I was reborn

I was baptized into the Methodist church and raised Lutheran felt haunted by loneliness a kind of emptiness that crawls

into our hearts when we are at our bleakest. Joined the Catholic church at 26 was surprise that it was while standing in the

Dinnigroom where I worked at Mount Rushmore in the black Hills of South Dakota that I first met a servant of God.

She presented herself to me in a manner of speaking while I was serving coffee the year was 1994 and I was 36.

She wore a black dress and her granddaughter was with her. We had a lovely vivacious conversation wherein

she told me that she had always dreamed of becoming a Baptist minister and so at the ripe age of 85 she had

finally become ordained.

She told me of her children and how they had struggled and had still all in all become fine upstanding

adults and that they indeed did a honor to their race.

It was there in that Dinnigroom that Val Heike seized to be and Val Littlewolf was born because it was

there that I was baptized by a minister full of God’s love. She asked me if I thought it would be ok if she

blessed me. She hadn’t thought that on her trip to Mount Rushmore the place she had wanted to come

1
to since she first saw North by Northwest the Alfred Hitchcock movie.

I had often heard of the premise to be born again and thought it an abnormal occurrence and yet here I was only

a week before I had, had a vision quest and now to be blessed in the light that she carried as most people carry a walking

stick, it just was a part of her and not an extra something to be used and then stuck in a closet till needed once more.

There I stood I had to bend my head some for she was a tad shorter then I was but it was cool. I at first shut my eyes

thinking that if I did that no one would see this short woman blessing me, then nearly as fast as I shut them

I open then due to the fact that no one else was being so honored and I was swell with that.

It is as simple and as hard as that, a putting on or a taking off that is how it is to be born a Christian to be reborn

is more intense but possible.

When I told my boss or started to tell Allen Dumbroski he patted me on the shoulder and said you do

need a vacation don’t you Val? They never understood that she might have been a messenger

sent to show me that God is near and he does live. I never saw her again and so no one logically

can tell me she wasn’t a carrier of the Holy Spirit.

1 I hadn’t the heart to tell her that the dining room she was standing in was to be tore down and another to take its place in two years hence.
 Written for homework in B-Mode

March 2010

I learned fear and pity from a family that hated anyone that was different. I taught myself as well as my friends that I was more than the

fear and hate taught to me by my family and friends. How was this hate taught? Or how did it manifest, when I was in mom’s womb; while driving

reckless tossing my mom around in the backseat. My future father the one little girl is supposed to look up to, depend on and love saw this as an

apt opportunity to take my life. When I was two he placed both his hands around my neck and told mom that with very little effort, I could stop

breathing. When I was 14 at the family cabin in Northern Wisconsin, after several drinks on a lovely sunny warm summer day with loaded 44

magnum, in his right hand. With a black barrel pointed, toward me and wild threats of ending my as well as my little nephew and niece and mother

I had worked hard to keep alive since I was 9. Since I was 9 it had been my goal the safety of my mom. I stepped up, John Wayne would have been

proud of me even if this man so not my father will never feel pride in me. Many women in my life taught me that pride comes from within out and it

is in our pride that we help others find their peace of mind and themselves become prideful.

Phonics, when I was 8 they as if a UFO was flying over and snatched the system called Phonics, out from under the noses of us children who

needed it. I was 9 when we moved back to Iowa from Howard, Wisconsin. I had no idea how to spell or read. It was the return of Phonics that gave

me cause to learn how to read. I had summer school with many my age group. It was as if people saw us as special children our handicap was the

lack of the ability to read. Then it was as if a sweet magic possessed my heart and soul. Letters shouted at me there wasn’t any sounding out. I

read fervently it gave me the sweet taste for knowledge. It was magically and it was all because of Phonics.

Boomer
Hello this is boomer his real name was rover. He was owned as if he were an animal by an Amish lady. He was always tied up, alone and

when they did tie hi up he was there all alone tied in knots wrapped around and around. I hated them having him, I promised myself with my entire

heart that he would not spend another year in such misery. So I took my second eldest nephew Daniel E Mathis, he is on facebook listed his home

town Des Moines, Iowa. We drove out there and he as I had hoped fell in love with Rover.

There was some screaming of course my family and I don't see eye to eye on animals that need to be saved so I do it anyway.

Ellen my younger sister has since fallen in love with as he is called now Boomer; he is loved and has his very own boy now. He has had his

shots and been changed sex wise, you know. Boomer is a great dog.

Bike Accident,4/30/11

Bike Accidents in s Waukon ,Iowa ,August 11th,2008, after taking a final in Cultural Diversity at the Wellness Center in Waukon I was struck by a

92 year old retired attorney. I suffered a smashed right wrist as it collided with the pavement on Fifth Street where I fell after the driver finally

stopped after driving over the top of my bike. The previous year a young 18 year old man still in high school while delivering The Prairie Shopper,

he was struck while on his bike and his young life was ended. It s strange to think that biking is hazardous to health; it use to be an expression

What is the natural way we as victims look for assistance, Dahh?” I thought the legal profession. Having watched this and that cop show I

anticipated being questioned”, but not in Waukon, Iowa. No one asked me the victim anything about the accident. I wrote a note telling what had

occurred. It didn’t matter to the powers to be. The man that hit me had practiced law in Waukon for 70 years. I was git lady who was queer. First

the retired attorney Lynn Morrow didn’t even say he had struck me yet there was paint on his car from my white bike, his car was on the scene, his

window was smashed in all his air bags were blown out. See I had like a deer rushed through the window then when his car had stop, and not

abruptly I had toppled off to lay in a lump facing into the street on the right side of the vehicle while my bike was crumpled behind me.

The Waukon police heard the retired attorney and not me, they believed he was just going home(while he was going the wrong

direction),they the Waukon police chose to believe that he had struck me while turning my way as he was driving toward my location, Balderdash!

He had pulled on to 8th street traveling behind me the sun as he told the police wasn’t in his eyes that Monday afternoon at 4 pm it was a clear

wonderful day until my world nearly seized to exist.

If Lynn had as he presupposed struck me as he turned from the right into me I would have been found smacked and bleeding and broken

on the left side of the road. It is only logical; no one even used their natural born logic.

I took him to court with an attorney I found in the Access line (My community in Iowa Gay paper) Edward Krug, just before my deposition he

had completed his medimorfisus and emerge the butterfly now called Ellen. He was sure the town would side with the beloved son, Lynn against

me so we settled for $30,000.00 out of court. I would never select a lawyer from Iowa or a Gay attorney if ever nearly lose my life in Iowa.

More than one thinker has suggested that modern science alone provides “true truth,”
and as civilizations realize this, religion will disappear to become the cultural
Equivalent of the dinosaurs. Do you agree with this?
No No I don’t think I concur Explain. Among those who have experienced the unity within whether a seeing in a church or a field it invisibly

created need. It becomes like neither a thirst nor a hunger. I experience it in a way being without my community feeling it online in Facebook. The

fellowship of my community makes me a better individual more willing to give and distinctly be a better human being for it.

2
My Human Biology instructor the other day when he supper imposed a query for the all women’s Biology class at Calmar’s NICC. He asked

a question “Do you think Gays and Lesbians should wed? There was a small commotion and I was unsure that this class was really a science class
due to the fact that “We”, my brothers and sisters in the Gay community are no longer seen in the scientific community as ill due to our believe

that “Yes: we are Gay.

He Dr. Scott Miller proceeded to say that as a scientist he didn’t care if we did or did not, but the other side of him thought that it should

never be made a law due to his Christian self opposing granting Gays he might of as if screamed “Queers”, should never marry. Up to that point I

had thought him to be a fine teacher and highly intelligent. To my surprise there were several females of like mind. That wasn’t my surprise my

surprise came in a young wisp of a girl sitting adjacent to myself a voice boomed to life, My uncle is Gay and I’m happy that now he can wed and

that at least this right is granted lawfully to him. “Wow!” Here in Iowa I mix the unity of belonging in and near a community of my peers who know

3
me and my beliefs a church group gets succinctness ’ from its believers Dr. Miller science that believes that a Million years ago we were as mice to

Dinosaurs and stops my right for equality will never be able to stop me from being a true believer with or without a church.

Saint Pat’s 1990-1992

Story of a Woman Custodian

4/30/11

1990-1992 I worked at Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church/School it was one of my duties to clean the Catholic Church by vacuuming it every

Friday after children’s mass and I clean Monday-Friday the larger of the two schools.

I worked for 2 years for $5.00/hour void of holiday pay or insurance. I shoveled and mowed with the hand mover or old fashioned shovel.

Jim Ward the Senior Custodian always seemed to hide with the on skirts of real work such as unloading the truck and putting away items.

I had just started a camcorder business and purchased a camera for $4999.99 now I own the same camcorder the one I own now cost

$200.00 and fits in one hand. I had or was doing many jobs with my Video Memories and had asked the Parish counsel to take a second job. In the

school year I got between 20-25 hours a week and 40 hours in the summer. After receiving the permission of the counsel I started the factory job

but after two days I had quit due to being allergic to the oils used.

I had all along continued my work at school. One day I was about to mow when Sister Margret Anne, says what are you doing there? I said I

just finished across the street and I’m fixing to mow next to the convent it was extremely hilly and I truth told really rather not but it was my job. I

was then told that I had quit and that, that was why she thought it odd that I was going to mow for free. I assured her that I hadn’t quit. She told me

Father had told her that I had quit two weeks ago. I was dumb founded! Father had asked me two weeks ago to sign what he had said was a

petition for something and if asked by your parish priest to do something you if catholic never argue. I had to go through the Labor Board of Iowa to

get my Unemployment because even Jim Ward the older custodian said he was sure I quit. We broke his story because during that time the

teachers in my building stated I was telling the truth.

When school started that fall there were three new people in my spot. Father had learned that he could with money from the state of Iowa

employee three retarded individuals at exactly what I had made. They didn’t last the month, so Jim Ward’s son that happened to be a lay minister

and at the time out of work started in my stead.

Wild Women of the Blue-Ridge Coven by Val Littlewolf/Heike August 2010-11-21

The air full the sweet smell of violet. For luck violet is present at celebrations, house warming’s and is planted near doorways directly

outside near the porch. Wiccan – There is many types of religion we experience throughout our lives and some of it is non-traditional. When the

mere thought of religion is thought of and someone suggests “wick”, thoughts of nobly noises, black cats and nudity arises as well as evil and

satanic.

While I was in Virginia for my five years from 2000-2005 I was thrilled with the concept of being presence among some Blessed and

Outstanding women from the “Wild Women of the Blue Ridge Coven” they celebrated “White Magic!” Some of the Ceremonies dealt with money

pouring in the spring of the year so that businesses run by the women would be successful.

There was also “New Moon”, and the “Harvest Moon Feasible”. There usually was beer, wine and of course what I learned wasn’t a bug

even though it was called a cockroach that was shared to nearly the fire end.

There are many covens in Virginia’s Common Wealth. The Shenandoah Cauldron is not is filled with interested people and good people even

though their Christmas Cards vary totally from the ones I was raised with in that they await the horned profit.

Both are distinct and worshiped in private. I prefer the White worshipers because they are totally into things that are for the good of the

community and less for the rule of the world.

Power isn’t might as much as love and naturally order is strove for. There wasn’t any nudity for me it was like a gathering of family and

2 We aren’t intended to be all female it is just that no men had signed up for our class.

3 Unsure of spelling I mean to Suck from the Old Testament to gain nourishment.
friends male and female who had all showed up not to get out of something to be able in their mind to go out and perpetuate whatever was seen as

despicable the next day. These folks came together to simply celebrate life and to be “Blessed!”

I will always be Wiccan praying to the Great Spirit with knowledge that mother earth and her creator has power over us always and forever.

I learned that unity and love made a church’s people strong.

Cannabis and Cocaine and other drugs

Val L Heike(Fall Semester: Crisis of Addiction – Sam Townswick(Professor) 2010

When I was two years old my father was angry at mom for giving my elder sister a peanut butter sandwich instead of what we the rest of

the family ate at that time there was only mom and myself and Diana Lee and dad. Mother had been married before and her first husband enjoyed

getting his jollies hitting mom and they had divorced when Diana was one and a half years old. Dad was so angry over the PB sandwich and the

beer he had consumed that he had wrapped his hands around my neck threatening to kill me rather than allow mom to give into me when I wanted

something.

1
At the tender age of eight with my younger sister Ellen just five, our father had thought of a wonderful way for us to toboggan. This way

came to him while were driving through the slippery country side and he was nursing an old style beer.() Cleaver ways he knew a lot about or ways

in which he could spend time with his youngest children and not be bothered with his own discomfort. His chore today was to entertain his

daughters while his wife had bridge club. So here we were at our farm we had named Heike’s Hilly Haven or the (triple H). With about six feet of

twin our toboggan was tied behind his ball on the back of his truck. Having thought when he explained to us that this was what was going to

happen I had already predicted ice and slush so I sat my younger sister up front and hopped on behind her.

The ride was terribly cold, baby Ellen who took the worst of it had her head bent most of the what felt like five mile trip tided with twine

ridding on a road at anytime someone could zoom around and accidently() run us over. What appeared to be hours finally he stopped, got out and

came around and asked in his matter of fact way he had “Had enough girls!” Of course we had, he would then say well untie the toboggan and hop

in and we will go home. Dad never cared for the radio and on those days of snow sliding we were always our own music due to the shivering

because we were wet completely though to our boots.

In 1972 I was 14, my mom and dad and a niece and nephew were at our family cabin in Northern Wisconsin for a week. Dad again heavily

into drink because at 14 I knew that, that was what dad did for entertainment. Mother cooked and cleaned I helped with the little ones and fished

and since 9 was the male of the family so I carried up water and brought in fire wood, cleaned fish among other things. Upon this particular night I

had seen the worst of his anger or hate of himself taken out as always upon me in ways that he thought were only good clean fun. Dad never

seemed to see that he was the only individual enjoying his humor. He had I assumed come to the assumption that the only way he could stop being

in pain would be to take our lives with is 22 rifle then his own.

So the night ended differently than he had assumed because with John Wayne in my head I removed the rifle from his arms. Mom as always

cried as well as my niece and nephew because they were really small and didn’t understand that this was their heritage.

While other girls my age were using pot in the bathroom at school I was hurrying home from school friendless I knew from eight that I was

different and where even though the house felt cold and distant it was away from the hate that filled schools geared toward anyone that even

hinted toward being different. It was my job to do the yard work, trim trees, rake, clean and assist mom with the house. My father was a Dr. of

Chiropractic and mom most of the time at least once a week worked in the office so I was needed at home. I learned early on that if I were to bring

friends home that the only one who had any fun was my dad who then waited till after work to get loaded.

I had a year in college at William Penn but I knew that mother hated that I had gone and the shear pain I would feel for the rest of my life

because she would tell me till I died how she had paid for my schooling with her own money and had to suffer from Dad. I think looking back that it

was less hard for her while I was at home. I also think she really like a horse placed blinders on her eyes and saw only what was comfortable for her

of pain I felt.

While my younger sister Ellen was in high school there was a lot of concern that she too was to found of beer and other beverages. I can

imagine Dad thinking that was cool. He had after all been let down by having had a lesbian for his eldest at least he got a drinking buddy out of the

parenting deal.

In 1984 I had gone to Denver Colorado for a summer of working as a nanny due to the job outlook was poor in Waukon, Iowa. That was the

first time I came in close contact with drugs. I was an innocent and naive gal of twenty-four. The owner of the Nanny Company I was to work for

initially while they were seeking someone for me to work for. The day I arrived I entered the living room to my chagrin to find at the coffee table

about eight people and a square piece of glass they were cutting coke. I had seen it on television. I raced up the stairs to the room I was to borrow

and only left it for job interviews. That was the only time I had come in contact with coke.

By fall, of 1984, I was in the US. Marine Corps found no drugs just a bunch of drunks. I’m sure drugs were there but not where I was. In 1994
I went to the Black Hills to work my first season in food service. A friend from Postville, Iowa, who taught me how to climb rocks once said that 45%

2
of the seasonal employees that work on the mountain sat and drank and never enjoyed the beauty of the Black Hills. The employees that spent

3
their time off sitting and watching TV; accounted for 30%, leaving just about 25% enjoyed the beauty of a park we worked in. He was correct I

believe.

4
In 2000, I went to work for Aramark concessions in the Shenandoah National Park. It was there that drink, pot and Meth was over looked by

5
the employer like it was common place. Upon many occasions I could sit in my dorm room and smell the pot from the opposite room.

The employee I will call “Joe and his wife Becky”, had invited me and a buddy and three of the Slovakian employee’s to accompany his wife

6
and himself and to D.C. Will and I hadn’t a vehicle so we were usually at the mercy of whoever was leaving the mountain to buy food or wonder

around. We literally jumped at the opportunity to go to D.C., we hadn’t ever been there, you see! We were unaware of the fact that Becky and Joe

had taken their children and all of us to cover what they were up to.

The fee we paid was $40 a peace for the rent of the van a sum of $240 was collected for a van that some years later I found had cost $70 to

rent. Joe and Becky hadn’t a stroller for their two small children to ride in as we wandered D.C. They did have a large cooler that held our lunch

7
cooler it held our lunches and some pop, Joe’s beer. We road there with Joe drinking and speeding down and around this and that curve . The

windows were wide open and it was warm, on the way home it was freezing still the windows were open. Maryanne one of the Slovakian young

people that that summer worked in the Shenandoah National Park with us at she at her tender age had more confidence then I had till I became a

8
Bell hop at Skyland Lodge. Their children were literally freezing; they were so tired having walked all over D.C. We had sort of erroneously been

mules for Becky and Joe because after our lunch were ate we (Will and I had parted company with the group to sight see alone). While we were off

they had made a pickup of Meth.

9
It was common place before Joe went to work on our dining room , he would heat what I know now was heroine and then inject the syrup.

10
Joe was a server . That was in July of 2000, in November he had been arrested for making Meth with the chemicals used in the bathroom at the

lodge. In 2001 Joe was facing life imprison for a father of 27 it was too much so while the lodge was closed he snuck onto the property and hung

himself.

In 2001, winter I stayed at Randi Stepp’s home carring for her cats, due to the fact that I house and pet sit. Randi a system analysts when

low smoked pot. I had never smoked anything more than the Moore cigarettes when I was in boot camp for the Army at Fort Jackson, Columbia

South Carolina in 1978. I found no joy in the coughing up neither my lungs nor the warmth of my face or the dizzy or the large pupils. I find more

joy with good friends, in being back in school working toward a sound goal that brings me great joy. The happiness Randi, felt filled being high

soften her sadness and pain of an uncaring mother. The food she loved filled the house when she was saddest and the house was at those times so

11
filled with the aroma of violet and pot I always pictured it lifting off the ground and ascending to great heights then plummeting to the earth to

lay crumpled in a great pile of bracken bract.

I am neither a victim nor a prisoner and anything like that only of my words and my heart and other’s needs.
1 I was born in 1958 and Ellen Beth was born in 1961.

2 That is what we who worked and lived at Mt. Rushmore called the mountain.

3 Until park service got wind that we had a satellite dish erected and all the staff that wanted to view movies and the like in the employee room
could. They said the law of more than one person viewing a movie at a time was being broke, so they had a ordinance sent up to our General
Manager Bruce Van Vort and it was like magic no more TV till we could individually get cable.

4 www.aramark.com

5 The dorms for older seasonal employees were like square blocks with two dorm rooms on either side. All the ventilations were connected so
anytime someone on the other side across from the laundry lit up I believe even the walls became high.

6 My friend Will was autistic, he bused tables. He was a real artist had the ability to draw a rose that aroma lifted off the paper and could with
your imagination bless your nose with a heavenly aroma.

7 This is how both my dad and younger sister drive with family and friends.

8 Skyland is the second of two lodges within the National Forest on the Skyline Highway that runs from one end of the Shenandoah National
Park to the other a total of 110 miles of lush beauty, bears, and deer like none you have ever viewed with white and brown spots.

9 Dinnigroom was called the Mountain room at Skyland.

10 In the resort business a server is a waiter.

11 Randi is fairy Wicca, violet is for luck.

References:
criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/criminal-defense/criminal-offense/child-endangerment.htm. (n.d.). Retrieved December 1,
2010, from http://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/criminal-defense/criminal-offense/child-endangerment.htm

Laws, U. a. (2010). Introduction of the Legal Drink Drive Limit,The Road Safety Act of 1967 i. Retrieved December 1, 2010, from
Drink Driving Motoring Law: http://www.drinkdriving.org/drink_driving_information_uklawhistory.php

Aramark Concession Shenandoah National Park, Skyland Lodge

http://www.facebook.vallittlewolf.com