Saturday, August 10, 2019

Love Flows Deep

Photography by Edouard Boubat

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 68
Come join us!

“Every seashell is a broken star scattered in the sand.  A tiny wisp of the ocean lies trapped in it throbbing, for a lost wish.”    ~Author unknown

My grandmother had a huge conch seashell that she used as a door stop.  Her home was an old small house that was probably un-level making doors not stay ajar, but I loved it there.  My most fond childhood memories were there with my grandparents.  For years in my adulthood I would go to that place in my dreams.   A simple old house that held an ocean of lovely memories, much like that seashell that my grandmother had convinced me held the sounds of the sea deep inside for me to hear.

Love finds us
and holds us close
Tight yet gentle
Like a mother’s arms
We learn to hold on
And then we carry it with us
Through storm’s journey
And sunny shores
No matter how far off we drift
it remains close enough to hear
It is a majestic ocean
Within our veins
And we can never be lost
If we learn to truly listen 
To our heart

Friday, August 9, 2019

The Splendor of Simple Things

Linking with Toni's wonderful Wednesday Muse "Butterflies"

Would that I might
always have the heart
of chasing butterflies!
~Japanese hokku

In a world full of
 loud trucks
 crime
 and heartache
It is wonderful to have
 the softer and sweeter things
in life
like a light shower in summer
 rainbows across the sky
  flowers and butterflies.


Saturday, July 27, 2019

When Words are Truly Free

"One Day I'll Fly Away"  Photography by Hayley Richards

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 66
Come join us!



Some birds are poets and sing all summer. ~Henry David 

Once my words were caged
Strangled by silence
Like a shy child
They lingered close
In quiet spaces
Whispering in my ear
where no one else would hear
But with time they grew
And so did I
Old cages get rusty
but old birds still fly
now the silence is stifled by words
they reach far places
like migrating birds.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Listen Hard



Linking with Toni's wonderful Wednesday Muse for Night Sounds
Come join us!

The day has eyes; the night has ears. ~David Fergusson


In the suburbs one only hears sirens
 and creeks in the halls
no owls no frogs
nor cricket calls
You have to venture
To your own back yard
To hear nature’s voice
In the suburbs you must listen hard.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Note:  When I was a child I used to stay with my babysitter a lot and she lived on a farm right off the I-35 freeway.  Of course, they kept their windows open to have a breeze and throughout the night you could hear the semi-trucks barreling down the highway.   We were in the middle of a beautiful farm with all the animals you would imagine a farm would have, and that is the sound that I heard most at night.  It was soothing in a way.  A periodical hum that put me to sleep many a night and yet would wake me up as well.  


Photo: Courtesy Google Images

Saturday, July 20, 2019

What the Heart Can Hold



Today Toni over at Imaginary Gardens is asking us to write a poem from a quote.
Come join us!


My closet is becoming smaller
Condensing like a garbage compactor
With so many more things stuffed in every year
But my heart finds more and more places to fill
 no matter how large the size or high the price
It grows like a child in winter
And no matter the cost
it always longs for more.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019







Monday, July 8, 2019

Our Hearts Always Hold Them Close,

the butterfly jar by lostinthisphotograph 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 63


Grief — the great redefiner of life. ~Terri Guillemets



Loss is a burden that we carry with us quietly
And sometimes others eyes do not see
Though it echoes loudly in the holders’ heart
With all the beauty that we touch and come to know
We hold on to love the hardest
Wanting its beauty to linger like a butterfly on display
“Stay with me a little longer my love”
Is what my heart always whispers
But this life has its own plans
Heaven has another time line
That our eyes cannot hold
When we must let go
Sometimes our heart still feels their touch
And still hears their voice in song
seeing their beauty in what remains
and their smile in others that share their last name
loss is a burden that we carry with us quietly
sometimes others eyes do not see
though it echoes loudly in the holders’ heart
those that we have had the blessing to love in this life
come to know a deeper freedom
and our spirits must let them go
but our heart always holds them close
no matter what skies they truly fly.

For Lauren and Seth
Grandchildren both in Heaven’s sweet embrace and always in our hearts.


This week it will be one year since my beautiful Granddaughter Lauren went to Heaven joining my wonderful Grandson Seth who went to Heaven before her in 2000.  Losing someone so young is a grief that is hard to capture in words.  It leaves a gaping hole in our heart and that cannot be filled by anything else in this world.  We hold on tightly to what we hold dear, and letting go is not an option for the heart.  All I can say is this; it will be a beautiful reunion when flying into Heaven’s gates, a beautiful reunion indeed!

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

A Lullaby I Shall Sing to You and Me

Linking with the Sunday Muse hosted by my awesome friend Shay this week for Muse # 62
Come join us!

Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music. ~Ronald Reagan


I dare you to go truly live outside your own front door
Step beyond the side walk’s edge
Venture past the corner store
Drive on down to the county line
Speed past the city
And then take some time
To live to dream to sing to be
Under the blue sky wild and free
I dare you to listen to each song
And then dance and loudly sing along
Don’t just sit and watch the band
 get a tambourine
 move and clap your hands
While you live and dream and sing and be
Under blue skies wild and free
I dare you
to truly live
I dare you
And I dare me!

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Monday, June 24, 2019

Poetry of the Sea

Photo by Erik Johansson Master Photo-Manipulation Artist

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 61
come join us!


The ocean does not preach a sermon
Though it has much to tell
That it shares with the moon and every sea shell
It bravely tells as it swells to the shore
Deep like a poet that speaks high to the sea gulls that soar
But Its stories are not heard by man and his makings
For he does not hear when he is too busy taking
He builds and he builds as he strips from the land
It is a sad truth widely known by each grain of sand
So the sea keeps on moving and reaching out
Whispering a message of longing that is true no doubt
For The ocean does not preach a sermon
Though it has much to say
It is heard not in man’s churches but in each unsettling wave.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Friday, June 21, 2019

County Fair Second Place Preserves

Image Source

Linking with wonderful Toni's Wednesday Muse # 13 ~Berries



I am a jar of crazy eyed musings
And you can set me on any shelf and my peripheral vision will not spoil
A mix of wise pondering and scattered ideas
That jell perfectly in a soft berry muse
Spread me on a blank page
Take small bites
Some may be sticky
But sweetness will roll off your tongue
In between the bites
May be a little tart
please take all it in slowly
Life is sweet poetry
And so is breakfast and berries
If you look at it
With a poet’s heart.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Note: 

I do not have any wonderful memories of picking berries with my parents, but the lady that watched me after my mother passed away was a farm lady named Odessa and I would go out in the field with her many times picking vegetables and such.  Every year she would go to the County Fair with her latest preserves, and she would let me help her make some so that I could have my own jar to put in the contest.  I think I won second place one time.  My memories of her and the simple life they lived, is etched on my heart, and I am certain that it is in the simplicity of growing and sustaining life that poetry is truly born. 


Saturday, June 8, 2019

Thirst of Another Kind

Photography by Carlo Pautasso

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 59
Come join us!
"They roll by just like water 
And I guess we never learn 
Go through life parched and empty 
Standing knee deep in a river and dying of thirst."

~Kathy Matea






It is desolate in the place of longing
Where I wait for you to notice me and
  quench my desire with more than a passing nod
You with your fountain eyes that never flow my direction
Could you not see me withering away with pining
I would have soaked up anything you would have given me
Hung on your words like petals on a flower
For thirsty is a place that drowns in yearning
Dry throats do not crumple like leaves
But hearts do
Leaving nothing to fall to the ground
But regret
And that is the most desolate place of all.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

....and they lived happily ever after.....

....and they lived happily ever after.....
T H E ~ E N D