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50 Norwood, MA Woman


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I’m looking for

  • Everyone
  • Ages 38–76
  • Near me
  • For new friends, long-term dating

My details

Last online
Yesterday – 11:53am
Open relationship
Relationship Type
5' 9" (1.75m)
Body Type
Full figured
Other and it’s important
Post grad
Doesn’t want kids
Has cats
English (Fluently)
My self-summary
Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed, I saw in Louisiana a live oak growing.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
I sing the body electric.
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
I'm composed. I'm at ease with me.
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
Ah Poverties, Wincings and Sulky Retreats. Others may Praise what They Like.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
Leaves of Grass
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
Pent up, aching rivers
Dakota’s Cañons
Beautiful Women
Elemental Drifts
The Splendid, Silent Sun
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
Are You the New person, drawn toward Me?
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
Come up from the fields father, here’s a letter from our Pete,
And come to the front door mother, here’s a letter from thy dear son.

Lo, ’tis autumn,
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio’s villages with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind,
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis’d vines,
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately buzzing?)

Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds,
Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers well.

Down in the fields all prospers well,
But now from the fields come father, come at the daughter’s call,
And come to the entry mother, to the front door come right away.

Fast as she can she hurries, something ominous, her steps trembling,
She does not tarry to smooth her hair nor adjust her cap.

Open the envelope quickly,
O this is not our son’s writing, yet his name is sign’d,
O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother’s soul!
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main words only,
Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish, taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.

Ah now the single figure to me,
Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio with all its cities and farms,
Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint,
By the jamb of a door leans.

Grieve not so, dear mother, (the just-grown daughter speaks through her sobs,
The little sisters huddle around speechless and dismay’d,)
See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better.
Alas poor boy, he will never be better, (nor may-be needs to be better, that brave and simple soul,)
While they stand at home at the door he is dead already,
The only son is dead.

But the mother needs to be better,
She with thin form presently drest in black,
By day her meals untouch’d, then at night fitfully sleeping, often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
O that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life escape and withdraw,
To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son.
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
your sky is transparent after the rain.