Spiders In My Journal by Annie K Barrow ISBN 978-0-9723794-3-4, 155 pages, $14.75 + $2.00 P&H:  In life we evolve.  With that there is pain. Other times there is joy.  The author shares with you some life experiences. Some she has witnessed.  Some were her own to endure.  But all of them, she was a part of in some way.  This is how she see things through her eyes. To order, send check or money order to 

Annie K Barrow
714 W Johnson St, 
Raleigh, N.C 27603 
Visit Author's Blog

Contact the author 919 604 7170


About the Book

About the book

Author's Statement: For such a long time, I always tried to make what was going to exist in the gray area appear to me more clear, whether it be black or white.  Through my writing and processing thoughts, I realized that there was no firm reason why we must know the cause of an action.  More importantly, time became a healing mechanism, and tangled webs began to loosen the silken and beautiful yet excruciating constraint.  Life as it is, reminds me of colors each day that I had forgotten existed.  The ability to say good-bye is a blessing.  It is a difficult thing to achieve, but a must for true happiness.  Letting go is learning to love yourself. 

- We reconnect like a puzzle
 A masterful game in which we play
 How does defeat serve such a purpose?
 When letting go has a more brilliant outcome
 But intelligence never resides in the heart

                           Annie K. Barrow
Sample of the work:
A Saucy Spider in My Journal

Frightened, tears descending down 
The fear of flush and heat abound 

I am not sure of yet, ahead 
But only past and what is dead 

If what to come is more than this 
I don't think it is worth a kiss 

The suffered past yet times, okay 
Just tell me, hang on, one more day 

The eyes that stare to me, reflect 
I hope to them, do not infect 

As all I want is love around 
Such peace and gentle waves that sound 

Like wind but yet a sunny day 
A cactus may just prick that way 

I see the pond with goldfish, swim 
The wonderment of childish whim 

The strange and subtle suckle sweet 
As tearful eyes fill with defeat 

The residue of banging loud 
Confusion his, yet not a cloud 

A singing girl, the role to strive
To be that year, or not alive

The depth in ones own mind can go 
To places no one wants to know 

If loving living things is true 
Then beauty must reside in you 

How easy to just walk away 
It's difficult to fight and stay 

Yet do the fights have limits set?
And if you fly, is there regret 

Regret can be a friend or foe 
But mostly foe, it's proven so 

So wasted time, is wasted time 
But rhythmic brains can rhyme and rhyme 

So where can love be put when through 
When one is done, yet one feels new? 

An anguish factor lies in tow 
And ponders destiny below 

A feeling of stillness there 
A restful factor, not a care 

A misty eye. There's one or two 
But taking back your life for you 

To save the branches of your soul 
Your happy days, when you felt whole 

Sometimes it can be luck it's so 
But choices play a role, you know 

We walk the days, eyes open wide 
But sometimes nights, so keep in stride 

The process learning, how we do 
Can fluctuate, from me to you 

The tempting fate of taste buds melt 
The cards are handed, we've been dealt 

No answer seems to lie before 
The tread we walk, or who walks more 

For roots and evil kill the good 
And focus on the 'should' and 'would' 

A trigger to defeat is clear 
But pain, acceptance follows near 

Just hold me, tell me, ' it's okay' 
Tomorrow sun's a brand new ray 

I'll take that with me now, for peace 
Try wishing well, a fair release 

A tragedy, those legs of eight 
Would try and steal from lives so great 

Deceive too long, and time runs thin 
Triumphant bells, while good ones win 

So leave my book, you're history 
This spinner you became to me


(Spī’der), n.

1.Noun- predatory arachnid with eight legs, two poison fangs, two feelers, and usually 
two silk-spinning organs at the back end of the body; they spin silk to make cocoons for 
eggs or traps for prey

2.Noun -an evil person who entraps or lures others by wiles.

Jour"nal\, n. [F. journal. See Journal, a.]

1. A diary; an account of daily transactions and events. Specifically: (a) (Bookkeeping) A 
book of accounts, in which is entered a condensed and grouped statement of the daily 
transactions. (b) (Naut.) A daily register of the ship's course and distance, the winds, 
weather, incidents of the voyage.

2. A diary or daily record

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