The Real Reason Martha Burned the Old Table Cloth,

 Image by Justin Dingwall

Click HERE to see his website.

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 135

Martha always wanted to serve leg of lamb for her many rich friends.  She envisioned them sipping expensive wine, using her fine china, and discussing the Queen’s gorgeous attire at the latest fund raiser gala.  But ever since her Rupert broke their vows with Laverne Covington on Martha’s dining table, ruining their luxurious table cloth, she knew all the guests would only be talking about all the dirty laundry at her expense.  So, this year, the fine china would remain in the hutch.  Her rich friends and Rupert could just go to China for all she cared!   Martha would be eating a large bowl of banana pudding wrapped up in her favorite wool blanket.  Who needs leg of lamb, or a wayward man when you have BANANA pudding??!!  

 

Wishing everyone a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving 2020!

Through Space & Time

 

"Migration" Painting by Eddie Schrieffer

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 128

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The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on. ~Emily Dickinson

 

 

Poetry does not always plead nor pull

sometimes it is stoic like the moon

yet still frivolous and soft like butterflies

it braves the weather of war and change

yet endures the loneliness of an unopened book

timeless it floats on the oxygen of souls

never ending on the last poignant line

yet those that hold it close to their heart

take it with them with their dying breath.

Some Barbed Wire Fences

 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 127

Hosted this week by the truly amazing poet Chrissa.

I was raised in the country

Where the only steel in twenty miles was

 the tractor

 the plow

 and some hearts

but the truest of cutting

 was never in the field

so my love became a cattle guard

 surrounded by a barbed wire fence

and praying for rain

 turned into wings

strong country fences never stopped a crow

only the cattle and the sheep

yet even when the crow makes it to the city

it’s heart still remembers the country in which it came

and climbing barbed wire fences is always dangerous

whether you are trying to leave or trying to get home.

My Heart is a Roaming Lion

 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 124

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I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I realize love is a refuge that cannot be torn down

bullets are feathers that carry no weight

hatchets cannot swing that far

death is a bridge we all must cross

heading north

but love is a compass that points in all directions

back before I knew the ache

of an empty chair at the table

my heart was a roaming lion

and your love was a tree branching out

that kept me safe

I rested upon you full weight

the fear of falling never crossed my mind

my heart had never known the pounding

of hitting the ground so hard

now I roam streets on my own

hunting for places

that no longer stand before me

yet I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I have come to know

love is a refuge

that cannot be torn down.

The Temple Doors are Always Open

Photo Credit

"People see God every day, they just don't recognize him." ~Pearl Bailey

The oldest cathedral that can be found
has no doors nor walls
the windows are stained by God's own brush
and the bell tolls by the song sparrow's call
we need not venture to the alter
for we may kneel right where we stand
for like the smallest of branches
God is always reaching out His loving hands.

©Carrie Van Horn 2020

A Graceful Arrangement

Photography by Jason Evans

click HERE for image source

Linking with Verse Escape for the Friday Flash 55 hosted by the utterly amazing Joy!

Thank you Joy for inspiring us!

Come join us writers!

“The greatest tragedy in life is not death, but a life without purpose.”

~ Myles Munroe

I could not have known there was a certain mercy in empty hands

Like a vase ready for meadow flowers

Hollowed like a silver maple

Awaiting something more

All the wreckage

That stole so much from my heart

After the winter’s freeze

Gave way to new growth

Flowers that now sit upon my dinner table.

© Carrie Van Horn 2020

The Little Girl Who Could Not Cry

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 118 hosted this week by the brilliantly talented Chrissa!

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Sorrow makes us all children again — destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is a red-hot kettle 

the one I was never meant to hold 

and my heart that burns with longing 

has not yet learned to let it go 

my soul yearns to go backwards 

and speak with the child I once was 

warn of hurt and danger 

preventing so many scars 

for I have learned to carry heavy burdens 

and how to fall slipping in regret 

trying to keep it all together 

holding tight to things not mine to get 

but like the Red-Footed Falcon 

freedom is the truest way 

and tears of loss and heartache 

were never meant to be caged 

you cannot carry an ocean nor a thousand buckets of rain 

so why would you carry everyone's sorrows 

and keep holding on to all the pain? 

you see every poem is a message 

 that my own heart needs to hear 

and drop by drop of ink and words 

have helped me find the tears. 

Direction of the Heart

"Seeing Black & White"  photography by the very talented Susie Clevenger.

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 116

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The past is not a package one can lay away. ~Emily Dickinson

In my dreams I see reflections of yesterday

Leading me down black and white highways

to places I once had been

I wander backwards

Heading into the past

Holding moments long since gone

I see the faces I miss so much

 and hear voices

That I have not heard in years

Holding children that have long since grown up

For in life, I have seen many things change

Right before my eyes

Each one is a part of what has molded the direction that my heart follows now

The joy keeps me hopeful

The storms inspire change

The loss has given me calluses upon my knees

Giving me the strength to keep moving forward

No matter what lies ahead

For my heart knows where I come from

And that gives me the greatest direction of all.

Swept Away

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 113

Hosted by the utterly awe inspiring poet Shay!

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My heart is like a child that still stands beside me

Uncertain but hopeful of what the future holds

We watch the world together standing at the steps

Hoping the world will see the beauty we hold

So I wear my best hat even on the windiest of days

Yet it is always my heart that gets swept away.

Martin, Mary, & the Moon

Image Source

Linking with Poets & Storytellers for Writers' Pantry #23

We cannot hold a torch to light another's path without brightening our own.

  ~Ben Sweetland

True words linger like memories of the moon

washing out doubt's shadow

giving hope a lit stage

for there are those that listen

and those that speak

poets that spark fires

and heroes that live by a brighter light

their tracks in the snow lead the way

and if you watch the moon

it follows too

brilliant light flows wide and long

and true words always linger

like memories of the moon

as imprints upon our heart.

This is dedicated to Marin Luther King Jr, Mary Oliver, and so many that are boldly inspiring change in this world.  They are the ones who enlighten and move others with a brilliant light that lasts many lifetimes to come.

©Carrie Van Horn 2020

A Loss with No Name

Linking with Verse Escape for the May Friday 55

Thank you Joy!

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There is a loss I cannot name

It is an empty cry

And the only thing my voice can speak is

 why?

I reach my hand into the dark of night

And no longer see myself

I wonder who I have truly become

And I can only utter

A sigh…

To the entire world,

Why?