Challenge… line from a book.

It is very early in the morning, though my body begs me to go back to sleep my soul stirs to get up and talk with Jesus.

God is calling me out, out of darkness, out from those places I thought would never be better.

And I am listening.

Tell me again, word of God speak and tell me,  how I am more than this place I have been stuck in.

make me believe.  I am listening.

In your presence I can believe it.  I can receive it.  I can know there is more than this.

Wake me up,  make me believe, I am listening.


At the bottom of the bottle,

He took off the mask and began to cry.

He couldn’t drink enough these days to end the suffering.

His heart felt a strange heat,  dragging up out of him a hidden longing

He let his eyes rest on the treeline and set his mind free

He could smell porridge cooking in the cottage,

see the firefly the children caught in a jar

He was a young man then laughing and hoping and dreaming with his pretty wife

Where did the years go.

He threw the bottle to the ground.

The wife was gone,  the fever took her.  It took him too.

The children… family took them.

They would have children now.

lethargy drained out of him and oozed into the ground

Something akin to hope took its place.

He staggered toward the shelter.

He had steered clear of there for months

Since that preacher had spoken over him that he would live and not die.

He had cursed the words.

Death was all he had wanted.  A final relief.  And even that would be denied him?

The preacher had only smiled,

some kind of knowing was in his eyes.  A peaceful knowing.

It took the power out of his alcohol and the rest out of his soul.

Maybe just maybe that preacher would be there

and maybe he knew something else

How a man that couldn’t die might find a way to live.






Emoji poem

Oh Captain,  My Guide,

Our fear like a wave

Caught our dear ship,  will we be saved?

Is this our end, as the wind beats the stern,

Will this be one more mooring we are earn?

All our former victories matter not now,

Will the anchor hold, can we make it somehow?

Or will we hear the bell,  the final bell toll?

As the ladies we love wait for us to reach home?

The watching ones waiting as hours click by,

We will keep fighting so they will not cry.


Season of the ancient ones

The ancient winds pulled at his soul,

He felt them… the ancestors… stirring him.

He looked to the stars

Are you there, my people?

Do you feel me?

Hear me?


Or are you only on the wind, whispering to see if I hear?

He yelled into the night,  “I do!!!”

“I do hear!!!”

The wind swirled around him.

He closed his eyes and was lifted, lifted from himself

into them.

When day break came he opened his eyes.

An eagle called in the distance,

a waterfall cascaded and thundered upon rocks below,

He stood and waited.

He didn’t know what for.

But he waited.

Then it arose inside him.

Something that had not been there before.

A song or a cry, A feeling and a knowing

A settled quiet and a troubled stirring.

All of it.

He shook at the awesomeness of it all.

Where had they taken him?  He may never know,

but the ancient ones came.

They came and they showed him things he could not know.

And now he would carry with him the treasure,

The stirring of the ancient winds.



Ideal Day

The sun rises painting as it comes into view,

pinks and oranges announces its coming.

A breeze stirs all shades of green leaves into quivering dances.

I breathe it all in.

My children come loping down the stairs,

Saturday!  Time to play!

They grab their bikes up before breakfast and take off for grand adventures.

I breathe it all in.

My husband brings the coffee,

He sits beside me smiling,  “this is the life” he says,

There seems to be nothing wrong in the whole world looking from our point of view.

I breathe it all in.

I grab a pen and the coffee seems to have stirred my soul,

Or was it my husbands hand on mine?  Or the children laughing?

Either way I feel the writer in me live.

I set the pen to page and let out the breath.

Then read it back and breathe it all in again.

Just a Haiku

Shake the earth, spring winds

Break away the dead and dying

Sing to life the new.

Sugar coated

What on earth made him do it?

Fall for her… of all people.

All us women knew she dripped venom.

But she bewitched him something fierce I reckon.

He went after her likes bees swarming a honey tree

Mamaw said you can sugar coat a lot of things and make them presentable.

Well I guess that must be so,  because what I see when I am looking,

He is not seeing.

He is seeing it sugar coated.




Her hands wove our lives

With threads tenderly chosen from her heart

Sometime spun with weary hands

She made our world beautiful and our lives were covered like our beds with her offerings.

We were warmed, we grew strong.

We were homespun.


He does not wait well

he taps and fidgets and huffs.

I write and try to hurry.

Because he does not wait well.

Then I think of all the times I waited.

For lesser reasons.

Shoot, I am writing this darn poem.

He can wait and he can learn just like I did…

to wait well.




Recipe Poem: How to stay married

Ingredients needed

Anchor (staying power)

Eraser (forgiveness)

Yoga instructor (maintaining flexibility)

Prayer shawl (you will pray,  a lot)

Writing time (makes all the rest work better)

The main ingredient for this recipe is the anchor,  the staying power.  It must be added at each stage of the recipe.  If not the others will not work as well.

The eraser will be used as needed.  Erase any unwanted additives that come along and give a bitter taste.

Your yoga instructor should be utilized often.. you have to remain flexible and able to handle situations that arise.  If you are not your anchor will not hold and the eraser will fall behind the sofa and you won’t be able to reach it.

Keep your prayer shawl handy for quick additions when it seems that nothing is working as it should.  Pray.  Prayer works in every situation.

And then make time to write. It brings all the other ingredients together and makes them work.    It will remind you life can be edited.  Grab the eraser and edit.  It will also remind you that you are not perfect and make you much more flexible with someone else’s short comings.  It will also make you practice prayer,  because there will always be that one line that will not come when you want it.  It will also anchor you to the world around you and in you and you will feel safe enough to stay.

When all of these things are working together.  You can stay married and it will be a beautiful journey.

41 years and counting.  🙂




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