Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
The thermometer affirms
our arrival at Autumn,
the droplets on the deck
declare in dew
that the air
is too cold for the water,
changing it to
liquid on the glassy,
warm surface.
I wonder, does
the Living Water
perform the same miracle
when it touches
my heart?
do change….
Sometimes I don’t know which direction I’m going until I get in the car and drive……. Sometimes I don’t know what’s on my heart until I start to write. sometimes I don’t know what’s on my mind until I open my mouth and speak and my Father gives the words. Sometimes I don’t know what…
No one eats a slice of lemon meringue pie because they’re hungry. There’s no sustenance in golden brown gelatinous spun sugar. No energy to be gained by consuming a butter-laden yellow middle, no food group that would deem this crust of crumbs worthy of a bite. But I consume anyway, my eyes convincing me I…
I thought I had tomorrow-more than one, like petalsfrom an infinite flowerheld in my hand.I thought I had tomorrowfoolishly thinking the chanceswould arise in infinite numberrolling in like wavesagain and again on the shore.But the words-writ at my feet,stayed there, washing awaylike silken sand,crumbling in liquid lines–the words I never said.I meant to say “Thank…
Furious gusts of wayward windstrip branches bare of late season leaves,punctuating the sky with explosions of colorand silent, sweeping stars.
Several weeks ago I made a foolish, self-centered comment on someone’s blog and clicked back a few days later to see if there was a response. When I re-read what I wrote, I sighed at my words and simply hit ‘Delete’. I felt SO relieved. Then I wrote this: Thank God for the “Delete” button…
In late fall a few years ago I had the pleasure of hosting the diminuitive L.L. Barkat, a woman with a contagious laugh, a love of poetry and instigator of the Mischief Cafe (among other things.) The Mischief Cafe is sort of a traveling road show with tea, toast and poetry. Laura and I had…