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Myrtle Poor
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Member Since: Apr, 2008

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Books
• Verses From The Heart


Short Stories
• Ole Billy

• A Vision Stright Frrom God

• Angel In Disguise

• The Great Eye Opener

• My Birtrhright

• A True Blessing From God

• Is It God's Will To Be Healed?

• The Dying Tree

• My Trip To Glory March 21, 2008


Articles
• My Two Cents Worth 8_30-2009

• My Two Cents Worth 8- 28-2009

• My Two Cents Worth 8-20-2009

• Mr. Congressman

• My Two Cents Worth 11-28-2008 Happy Thanksgiving

• My Two Cents Worth 11-14-2008 By Myrtle Poor

• My Two Cents Worth Forgiveness 11-12-2008

• My Two Cents Worth 11-10-2008

• My Two Cents Worth 9-13-2008

• My Two Cents Worth 9-24-2005


Poetry
• HE HELD MY HAND By Myrtle Poor

• In The Valley

• My Gift To You

• Just A Tiny Little Rosebud

• Mary's Son

• Don't Forget My Dear-

• I Praise You

• He Cannot Hurt Me Now

• My Love Is Meant For You

• God Put A Rainbow In My Soul

         More poetry...
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Books by Myrtle Poor - View all
Verses From The Heart

My Lonesome Domain
by Myrtle Poor   

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Category: 

Mystery/Suspense

Publisher:  ISBN-10:  1606726145 Type: 
Pages: 

90

Copyright:  July 2008 ISBN-13:  9781606726143
Fiction


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My Lonesome Domain is Christian fiction novel written through the leading an anointing of the Lord. It is about a twelve year old boy with amnesia. He is lost in the Boston Mountains for nine months. It is packed full of mystery and adventure. He has to learn how to survive during that time by watching what the animals eat. He finds a cave full of mysteries and intrigue. Read the book and see what adventure and things he gets into.

 

MY LONESOME DOMAIN
By Myrtle Poor (c)

CHAPTER ONE

  The little meadow lay at the bottom of two very tall hills. On one side, in

the background, there was a very large mountain. On the other side

there was just the hill with a deep hollow running alongside. The

meadow was covered with little blue wild flowers. Orange

black-eyed-Susan's were scattered through the blue flowers and along

the ridge were purple for-get-me-nots. For some reason there was no

timber in the meadow ex

     A large clap of thunder rumbled through the eastern sky. A bright flash of lightning came streaking across the sky, which seemed to dance around the trees along the ridge.

     A young boy of about twelve stopped at the top of the hill just above the meadow, to have a look around.  He appeared flustered and a little disoriented. He had a strange feeling that had been there before. He couldn't have been though, because as far as he could tell he had never in his life seen this place.

      A large drop of rain hit him right between the eyes. He reached to wipe the water off his face and winced when he touched the large purple bump that was beginning to swell there. The thunder now was a constant rumble. The clouds seemed to be hanging very close to the ground. Darkness seemed to have settled all around.

  "A storm is coming," the boy thought. "I must find a place to take cover." He broke and ran across the meadow. Just as he came out of the meadow into the edge of the trees he saw a large rock jutting out from the side of the mountain. The rock was about five feet from the ground, and was shaped like a large flat roof. He slid under the large rock just as the heavens opened up and began to rain in sheets. He laid his head on his arm and darkness over came him.

The sun was shining through the trees when the boy opened his

eyes again. He rolled on his back and sat up. He saw something

he hadn't noticed during the rain. There was a large cave in the

side of the mountain just underneath the large flat rock. The boy

got to his feet slowly and walked into the cave. Evidently

someone had lived there before. There was a very large pile of

wood in a corner beside a large rock. Two flat rocks had been

placed together and used as a stove. Another flat rock was lying

next to the outer wall, as if placed there as a table. On the rock t

here were several old odds and ends; a couple of tin cups, an

old battered plate, and a bent up pot.   

Suddenly the boy discovered he was very hungry. He looked around, but

he didn't see anything that was edible. He put his hand in his pocket

and felt the cold handle of his He pocket knife. In the other pocket he

had two pieces of flint.

      "I can start a fire with these, I believe, if I try," the boy said to himself.

He piled the wood inside the two rocks and rubbed the flint together until the dry wood began to burn. Now," he said, "to find something to eat." He stepped outside and looked around. In the distance he heard water running over the rocks. He followed the sound until he came to the creek. The water was clear and deep, being fed by a series of springs. He looked down into the water and saw a school of trout.

     Suddenly he had an idea. He cut a large hickory stick and sharpened the end to a very sharp point. He looked down into the water at the trout and aimed his stick. Pop! The stick found its mark. The boy speared three more and cleaned them beside the creek. He went back inside. By this time the fire was burning just right. The boy buried the fish in the hot coals. In just a few minutes they were cooked to perfection. The boy ate the fish greedily. "It was the best meal he ever had eaten." he thought.

     The boy decided he would have a look around. He walked around the ridge, looked down and come to a complete stop. He thought he had seen something? What was it?

He stood and looked for just a minute. He couldn't decide what

it was. It  hadn't  moved and it was bright red.  "I'll go down and

have a look, he said.  He started slowly down the hillside. The

closer he got to the spot of red the more frightened he became.

His heart seemed to be in his throat. It was thumping so loudly, l

ike the thump, thump, of a peg legged man walking across a

board bridge. He was close enough now to see the piece of red

material. He walked around a large tree and there lay the

woman, face down.

 

  "Sheechhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The air came out of his lungs like a punctured balloon.

He was frozen to the spot. When his fear finally subsided, he rolled the lady over. Blood covered her face and body. "My Word," he said, "she is deader than a door nail." Bugs and insects were crawling all over her and there were many buzzards flying overhead.

"I'll have to bury her or those varmints will eat her eyes out," he said out loud.

     He looked around to see if he could find the cause of death. He walked around several times, but found nothing. He decided he would walk out into the woods a little ways. He wanted to see if he could find something to dig a hole with. When he had gone about five hundred feet in each direction he saw a wagon wheel. Then the whole wagon came into view about a hundred feet to the south. He stopped and looked at the wagon as if he was addled. Scenes of a wagon turning over and over and rolling down a steep bank flashed through his mind. He saw an axle lying about six feet from the wheel; in a bunch of weeds. He would use that to dig the lady's grave. He reached down to pick it up.         

        "Woaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" What did he see?

     He went a little closer to see what it was he saw. When he

saw the man, he was in a half-sitting position as if he had pulled

himself up against the rock and gone to sleep. Lying across his l

egs was a beautiful collie. The dog was listless, but rolled her

eyes when the boy touched her so gently to see where she was

hurt,

Then he turned to the man, "Mister! Mister! Are you alright?"  The man neither moved nor opened his eyes. The boy touched his hand and found it to be cold as ice. "He is dead too," the boy said, "now I'll have to dig two graves, but first I have to take care of this beautiful dog."

     He picked up the dog that was almost too heavy for him to carry and carried her back to the cave. He laid her down on the floor close to the fire, then went outside and laid his shirt on the ground and scooped up a pile of dead leaves onto the shirt and carried them back inside. He placed them on the floor and went back outside for another load. After six loads of leaves piled in an even heap on the floor next to the makeshift stove, he picked up the dog and laid her on the pile of leaves.

He took the bent up pot and went out side to the creek for some

water then went back inside and poured some of the water in

one of the cups and put it to the dog’s lips. She wouldn't take it

so he poured some into the cup of his hand and with the other

hand opened the dog's mouth slightly and dribbled the water into

her mouth until he was sure she had had a good drink.

"She needs something to eat, but what?" he pondered. Then his eyes fell on the fish left over from lunch. "Humm, that would work if it wasn't for the bones," he said out loud. He took the fish and gently rubbed it between his fingers until he was sure every bone was out of it. He gave it to her bite by bite until every bit of it was gone. She ate like she was starved. He then went back out and brought in three more loads of dry leaves and covered her with them, all but her head. She wagged her tail and licked his hand and went instantly to sleep.

     The boy stood looking down at the dog for a minute then mumbled, "the hair on your head looks like pure spun gold. I think I will name you Goldie and now I have a couple of graves to dig."

He stopped at the creek, lay down on his stomach and started to cup his hand to get a drink of water. He was suddenly shocked at the young face looking back at him. It was the face of a young boy about twelve years old with a thatch of bright red hair, freckles, and eyes the color of the sky. "Hummmm, so that is what I look like

     With the axle from the wagon he dug a shallow grave in the soft, damp earth. He rolled the old man into the grave face down and covered it with dirt. A few feet up the hill he did the same for the woman. He hated to bury them like that, but he wasn't strong enough to pick them up and put them in the grave right. He found some rocks and piled them on the grave for a marker. After saying the Lord's Prayer over each of the graves he turned and went back to the wagon and opened the lid to the old trunk he had seen there. He took out an old pair of overalls and a worn shirt. He removed his clothes and put the bigger ones on. They hung from his lean frame like a sack.

"They don't fit none too good, but at least they are clean and not covered with blood." he said.

He stooped over and rolled up the pants legs "Not too bad, " he thought." Rolling up his sleeves he picked up the axle and went back to camp."I just wonder who these clothes belong too." he thought.

 

His steps got faster as his thoughts turned to the beautiful gold collie he called Goldie.

“Would she still be alive when he got back to camp?" he asked himself out loud.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Reader Reviews for "My Lonesome Domain"


Reviewed by Mildred Kisor 10/26/2008
Unusual story line. Good story. Keep on truckin', Myrtle

Mildred

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