Thursday, July 29, 2010

Rustling of The Sheets

There was a time
in your bed
I could hear
nothing less than
the wistful steps
of your eyes
tickling my skin
and the whispering
of your thoughts
mingling with mine
on the hopes of

in this bed
I can hear
nothing more than
the rustling of the sheets
as I toss and turn.

Open Windows and Locked Doors

Some hands are like a wasp in an open window that is constantly beating against the upper plated glass.  They are continually trying to attain what they already have.

There a hearts like a cobweb covered pad locked door, for nothing ever enters and nothing ever departs.

Some things in life make us question what might have been, but like dead flowers that are lost amongst the weeds of someone else's garden, these answers were never for us to hold.

A Penny To A Child

When I was a child
rushing to play
I saw a penny sparkle
on the pavement
I picked it up
with full hands
so sure it was a wish
that would someday come true...
but somewhere between
the sparkle and fades
the cares and casualties
the grandeur and mundane
when my hands were grown
that one cent coin
slipped through
my empty hands
and fell to the pavement
so I left it gladly
too busy to pick it up.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

I Can Hear The Flutter of Wings

Sometimes the light of day seems taken over by the shadows of the night.  I wander in the darkness blinded by the light.  But somewhere between the shadow's danger and the rescuing, if I stop and listen I can hear the flutter of wings.

Sometimes the raging river is more memorable than the gentle stream.  I don't remember the song of rapture because I can't forget the scream.  But somewhere between the valley's flood and the mountain's spring, if I remember I can hear the flutter of wings.

Sometimes the lightning seems brighter than the rainbow's aftermath.  I linger in the rain even though the storm has passed.  But somewhere between the peaceful calm and the thunder's ring, if I close my eyes and listen I can hear the flutter of wings.

Sometimes the sound that tears make is louder than that of a smile.  I hold on to the heartache even though I have been rescued from the trial.  But somewhere between the joy and all the painful things, if I am quiet and listen I can hear the flutter of wings.

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Sound The Moon Makes

There is a sound the moon makes when it takes up a fool's eyes.
It is louder than a train wreck, yet quieter than a cry.

There is a sound the moon makes when it is in a child's view.
It is louder than a herd of elephants, yet smoother than a flute.

There is a sound the moon makes when it fills a lover's sky.
It is louder than Beethoven, yet softer than a sigh.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Freedom Is A Room With A View

Silence and denial lay together like an unused bed, in an empty room. 
Never allowing truth's purspose, and it's freedom to be viewed.
I spent years laying in that bed waiting for him to become a better man, somehow free.
It was a costly lesson to finally realize the only one I could truly change was me.
For there are times it is strength to linger within the flame,
but there are others when it is mightier to stand up and walk away.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


Think Tank Prompt #6

Brilliance is not a newly cut diamond,
but the glistening eyes of a child so full of hope.

Brilliance is not a scientific theory,
but the enlightening that can occur
in the colliding of two souls.

Brilliance is not an orchestrated opus,
but the deep flutter of the leaves
that only the forest can compose.

Brilliance is not a numeric formula,
but the unmeasurable capacity
of what the heart can hold.

Monday, July 19, 2010

The Builders

Mankind seeks shelter from all of life's storms

so brick by brick he gathers builds and forms

constructing walls that are architecturally sound

that no elements would dare tear down

but at man's hands there are things unseen

his plans can parch and crumble like dry leaves

for faulty parts neglect and loose wires

can create a spark and then build a fire

tearing down all that man once built up

leaving only remnants of hope in the dust

but man's imperfections have an ideal plan

for no force can abolish the resilience of man.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

In The Pink

Thank you Ninotaziz for giving me this wonderful award.  I truly love your blog, and I am honored to recieve this award from you!

Accepting the Pink  Award does not end here.  There are a few wonderful rules to accepting the award
and they are as follows:

1.  Thank and link back to the person that gave you the award.

2.  Share 7 things about your self.

3.  Pass the award to 9 fellow bloggers that inspire you.

4.  Let them know about the award. :-)

Once again I want to thank you Ninotaziz for awarding me the Pink Award.  You have such a giving spirit that shows in your wonderful gift of writing.  I feel blessed and honored to have met you here.

These are 7 things about me:

1.  I am blessed to work at a local library, but I am too busy to read. :-)

2.  My greatest lessons in life have been learned the HARD way.

3.  Being a Grandmother has expanded my whole view on love.

4.  My favourite word is HOPE.

5.  I eat like a man, but gain weight like a woman.

6.  Even Hallmark commercials can make me cry like a baby.

7.  The most wonderful teachers of my life have been my children.

These are my nine Pink Award bloggers:

I'm Just Saying... Sheri the words of your life are always an inspiration to me, and your friendship is a blessing indeed.

The Poetry of Alaurilee Alaurilee your poetry is so full of hope and dear to the heart I knew I had come across a precious jewel when I found your blog.

Underneath His Wrapping Ruth your blog is always an inspiration to me.  Your faith in God and daily life are truly an example to others.  I feel I have grown from the experience of being your friend here.

Signed...bkm bkm your passion for life and writing is so evident in your blog.  Your creativity inspires me.

Sweeter Poetry  Dulce your blog is so very beautiful to me.  It conveys such a wonderful sensuous style, and love abounds at your blog.   Your talent is truly brave, lovely, and inspiring.

The Chololate Chip Waffle Terresa your poetry is apsolutely amazing.  I am never disappointed when I visit your blog.  Each and every morsel that you dish out is truly nourishment to the soul.

LiveLaughLove Niecy your blog is filled with the love of God, and your posts are always a blessing to others.

Skylover Kerry every poem that you write shines with the light of your love of nature.  All your poetry is filled with beautiful imagery and truly an inspiration.

The Blowing Branches Patty your prose are always captivating, and your blog is beautifully put together.  I always enjoy visiting it and seeing what new story you have to tell.

Thank you all for inspiring me, and Ninotaziz I am grateful for your wonderful spirit of giving. Thank you. :-)

Friday, July 16, 2010


I am not a river, for sometimes I must turn around and go back to where I began.

I am not a feather, for I can stand strong against the wind.

I am not a bridge, for there are times I cannot hold everything up by myself.

I am not a garden, for I can thrive no matter what the wind blows in.

I am not a sparrow, for sometimes I destroy what I build.

I am not a road map, for I am not always an example of the way to go.

I am  not an ocean, for sometimes my deepest motives become quite shallow.

I am not a diamond, for my value cannot be priced or marked.

I am not a window, for there are times I cannot see beyond my own threshold.

I am not a forest, for sometimes I must get up and walk away alone.

I am not an island, for there are times I must touch something by my side.

I am not an eagle, for I do not always know what I am searching for.

I am not a sunset, for darkness cannot overtake me at every dusk.

I am not a padlocked door, for I am open to what may come.

I am not a rainbow, for my colors leave an enduring mark.

Monday, July 12, 2010

How To Know Beauty

Think Tank Prompt #5

You don't need a salon, golden highlights, or curls.

Put away your diamonds, cashmere, and the pearls.

Throw out your mascara, all your powder, and creams.

They only mask what lies underneath.

For the only regimen you really need to start, is to bestow, and behold beauty
through the eyes of your heart.

Green Off The Vine

Magpie Tale # 22 ( A great site for writers!)

You were always hungry to hold freedom before your time.
I grew fat on hopes, content to linger on the vine.
On earth you never found the purpose you longed to hold.
I hope that now in heaven, peace is yours to know.

For Vaude
October 10, 1956  to  December 25, 2002

So many times over the years I have wondered why my brother, and I chose such different paths.  Both of the same vine, we shared so many things as children, but how we accepted and dealt with the troubles of our adulthood was so diverse.  We were like different fruits of seperate gardens.  I often thought that maybe there was something more that I could have done to help him.  Now through life's hopes, struggles, and recoveries in my own life, I have come to realize that our lives are part of a bigger plan that our hands could never completely hold.
His struggles taught me to be strong.  His searching helped me choose hope.
His shortened life was my teacher more than he ever knew.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

A Net Full of Butterflies

Think Tank Poetry Promt #4

I can hear it in your voice, the angry words you can't forget.  A heartache's anthem is echoing over and over in your head.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to hear the magic in the song.  You could dance around all day no matter what went wrong.  Just close your eyes and try,
for a child sets anger free like a net full of butterflies.
I can see it in the tears that you never cry, you are not as strong as the shield you hide behind.  But can you remember when you were just a child, and it was easy for the tears to fall like rain.  When you were upset it was written all over your face.  Just close your eyes and try,
 for a child lets pride go like a net full of butterflies. 
I can feel it in your touch you just can't let it go.  You are holding on to the past lke a trophy of plated gold.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to forget the troubles of yesterday, leave them all behind and play the day away.  Just close your eyes and try,
for a child tells betterness goodbye like a net full of butterflies.

Monday, July 5, 2010

We Reach Out

Magpie Tales #21

The span of our years are like the rise, and descent of a sunflower in a beloved garden.
God's thirsty sprouts yearning to break through the outer crest, we rise like the heat of fire's spark.
From the time we can stand on our own, we reach out like empty bowls of hunger longing to be filled.
We crave the independence of the outer banks, grasping for our own way.  We struggle to lick the sky with our own array of colors, like a fireworks display.  We eat from life's nurturing hand with the fervor of missionaries taking and giving two fold back.  For on the descent, is a slow cascade of grace.  We stand still, but on shaky limbs.  Once again, we reach out, but now with full bowls of life's colored evidence of growth.
The callus knees of a well tended garden.  Now contented to rest where we lay, for we wait for
a greater sky.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Thank you Ruth

I just received an awesome award from an awesome fellow blogger.  Ruth at Underneath His Wrapping  Ruth I feel honored to receive this award from you!!
You are such an inspiration to me!!!
I am supposed to sum up my blogging philosophy in five words, so here it is: hope, inspiration,friendship,sharing, and healing.  There are so many that I feel deserve this award, but I am going to choose three.  Enchanted Oak ,Finding Prose In The Laundry,and The Chocolate Chip Waffle
You all inspire me!