The Whole Story! 12th Hour prompt – kjkidder

For weeks, Gigi’s roommate paced the floor

“You are really stressing me friend,

I can’t take it anymore.

Dinah, this may be the end.”

Gigi left and came back three days later.

Dinah was pacing faster.

The questions poured out

Both got loud and began to shout

and Dinah left the room

“What’s wrong with you, Dinah?”

Gigi heard music from the kitchen

another voice called out, “Listen!”

“Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah.”

“There’s a few in the kitchen, you know.”

“Wait! I’ll tell you,”

“They’re drinking a whole pot of Joe.”

“Somebody better tell me the whole story!”


(“I’ll tell you the whole story in a few days.” Excerpt from DEAD SEA RISING by Jerry Jenkins)






It Waits For Me – 11th hour prompt – kjkidder

Somewhere on a mountaintop in a Holy Land

There is a spot that waits for me to stand

Wrapped in grace, white robes, barefoot in the sand

The air is sweet-tasting and pure and soft on my skin

Yes, soft like a kiss.

It is a place where we cannot see the color of skin

It is translucent and flawless, fluid and yet solid

I could hold you if you were there

and you would feel only love,

my love

And while I’d love to hold you there,

It’s only about His love that I ultimately care.

There are those who’ve loved Him here and said

They wanted to drink His cup and go with Him, ultimately some did.

Brave and dearly beloved, they followed Him faithfully.

No matter how I might, it is only by His grace for me.

I see them in the distance, highly favored

now, with the many crowns they lay at His feet.

So many crowns, the jewels light up the day

There is no night, no one is tired, no one is too hot

Or too cold. There are none who are sick or weak

Strength and joy are everywhere. People I know

Laughing and singing and welcoming newcomers.

There is a feeling of tenderness and peace and knowing all

It seems I’ve been here once before, but I don’t remember how.

I only know that place waits for me one day.

Soul Vision – Prompt #10 – kjkidder 2020

There’s always a silver lining,

be it shrouded in pain.

Every loss brings a gift of gain,

A perspective not often shared.

Sightedness depends not on eyes

But rather, on soul vision

Sound waves hitting our ears

Don’t always ring true

It’s that intuition in me and you

It’s the truth that’s planted deep

In our psyche to keep us alive

Alive in our spirit asking questions

Questions too huge to answer till

We are ready to see false truth

For what it is.

Till we are ready to acknowledge

Lies when confronted.

Who do I trust?

Why do I trust?

How do I know I can trust?

If faced with a heavy loss, what then?

Will I think my usefulness at an end?

No, not I. My future is bright and hopeful.

My end is just my beginning.

It is the release from dependence

On who I am, what I can do, from me, my, mine.

It is the culmination of the new birth

In understanding everything and needing

Nothing more than Jesus.



Ten Tiny Fairies – Prompt #9 – kjKidder

Lethargic and drunk, the strange old man

with bottle in hand, meandered across the field.

Staring ahead as best he could, held onto his hat

With vision zooming this way and that.

There stood a cottage at the edge of the treeline,

“Shelter from this scorching heat, and just in time.”

The man guzzled down what remained of his Rye,

Delirious and deranged, strange lights did he spy.

On further inspection he claimed them to be

“Ten tiny fairies, belonging to me.”

Swiftly he trapped them in that not-quite-empty bottle

He demanded they dance or threatened to throttle

They flew, and they flew, growing rapidly dimmer

In all that heat they simply did simmer

Till all of a sudden, his ‘fairies’ were drunk

Poor little fireflies, to the bottom they sunk.



Beautiful and the Innocents – Poem #8

I hear you rustling through the trees hunting a safe place

What once felt serenely secure, you must now guard.

Protect the young ones and keep innocence alive and well

Last year was my first to meet you and your lovely family

Winter came, and I wondered if you survived.

I’ve never been the ‘hunted.’

Watching you care for your brood, I realize

how blessed I’ve been.

Four walls and a roof to keep the wolves away, unlike you

Moving your little boy and the twins,

along with your older daughter and her offspring,

from place to place under trees and behind sheds.

Foraging for food where you could find it.

I cheered for your survival each time I saw the

scars on your back. I knew the attacker fared

worse than you. It brought joy to me

when you accepted food I wanted to share. So,

Winter came and I prayed you’d make it.

Spring came, many didn’t make it. I couldn’t go

look for you, again I prayed.

Last week Summer came and so you returned

with two new babies, precious,

spotted babies, you let me see.

This week your son returned with three

velvet-spiked pals to show off.

Handsome yearlings, for certain, will want

to meet his sisters and once again,

I will hear you rustling through the trees

hunting a safe place to

Protect the young ones and keep innocence alive.

Season of the Enlightened Ones

There they are.

Moving through the square shoulder to shoulder

in determined advance.

An army of two-legged soldiers on alert to procure

what they wait all night for.

There on the pavement, between blades of grass;

there lay the prize they will surely not pass.

There’s plenty for all, and a little for each.

It is right there, placed right within reach.

“Run quick” called the Pigeon. “Grab what you need.

Here come the Starlings! Meet you back at the tree!”


Celebrating Us – Prompt #6

The corners of my mouth

lift slightly, long before

my eyes sense

the dance of daybreak.

Sweet voices

on my windowsill.

Younger ones

reply, eagerly awaiting

something squirmy

Ground beans releasing

their nutty aroma

Hiss and gurgle

into the pot beneath

Bacon spitting at

potatoes crisping

in a neighboring pan

Long, peaceful stretches,

no angry muscles

Puppy-love licks as

my feet hit the floor

Sweet embrace as I meet

my love at the

boudoir door.

Overnight hunger

banished, we clink

hot creamy mugs

Toasting a day

of celebrating

His eyes

wordlessly, not silently,

tell me he’d do it again,

remembers every detail

Quick, pack the basket

with warm, fudgy brownies,

Colby cubes, grapes, and

strawberries in cream

Water or wine,

whichever you please

– just hurry

We can’t waste

moments like these

A blanket beneath

watching ships on the sea

Sun fading in crimson

over the bay

Snuggling close

ends a perfect day.



I Feel You – 5th hour poem

edited version:

I Feel You


This biting wind comes too soon.

It feels brittle under this sandy canopy.

Though apart, we share

the same night sky.

Can you see what my eyes behold?

Are there stars shining to brighten you,

with dreams of what is to come?

Or is your night too dark, too deep

with pain? Are you longing,

for loved ones to come and lift

you from your couch?

I long to wrap you in love, so sweet

all else feels like a distant memory.

Do not despair.

Weep, if you must.

You are never far from my thoughts.

I am missing the beauty of your song,

your stories, your laughter.

Oh, precious one, remember how,

even at this distance, I feel you

in the uniqueness of

Love’s heart. I sense it

when there is joy. I feel it

when your bones hurt.

I rejoice when your spirit is light.

Listen, close, to hear the

God, who loves us both.

Yes, the world has placed

cruel chains on all of us.

What comfort knowing freedom

those chains cannot hold.


Epistle to Glen Ryan – Prompt # 4

I wept when we reached Sherwood Lane

and learned we’d not see your smiling eyes again.

Sis and I traveled far praying we would reach you in time.

Many hours in the air,

clenching armrests on our chair, we shared our hearts and hopes.

More than that we shared our prayers.

Prattling down I-5 with a brave brother-in-law at the wheel,

we wanted only to make it to your side as our tears we tried to hide.

The oldest and the youngest of your daughters,

facing years of unspoken words to offer you.

Finding a strange peace in the humming

of your old truck’s engine and trees moving quickly by.

Days that followed now seem like a blurred dream.

Words said in eulogy.

Songs read, not sung.

Memories, stories, photos, all shared with love.

I still weep knowing it will be awhile till

I see you again, but I smile knowing I will.

Forgiveness begins with me,

Love began with His Son.

I love you, Dad.  See you soon.


Perception Often Flawed-prompt #3

Trusting one’s own perception is often flawed

The ideas sweep by faster than the mind records

Productivity restricted by imagining future rewards

Promises of happy endings for a young girl’s efforts

Broken-hearted realization of self-delusion

Faithfully pursued, creating confusion

Hope dies not, valiant tries in deepest thought

Study, read, talk it out,

Search for truth and what it’s about

Foundational teaching at Pappa’s knee

Precious words he would read

Juxtaposed against the world

Belief in God her heart would hold

Understanding dreams might wait

Answers may come very late

Hope dies not, valiant tries in deepest thought

Success for others seems always there

Why not her? Doesn’t He care?

Standards set so high, will they be met?

A deeper look for what is that truth in she,

Reveals a self-fulfilling prophecy

Forgiving and holiness must begin with me.

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