Poetry

Heart of Our Home

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Paper Dolls

Story at the Mill

Homemade clothes

Cleaning up spills

Truthful Heart

Wisdom Words

Washing Feet

Stories Heard

So many ways love was told

So may memories more precious than gold

Note:  This was written a few years ago for Mother’s Day.  It is a listing of memories of things my mother is and things she did for us as kids.  We had an old picture of a mill with a boy, girl and dog in it.  She used to make up stories about the picture and tell them to us.  A lot of nights before going to sleep, after we were already in bed, she would come with a wash cloth and wash our feet.  We slept better and the sheets stayed cleaner! She would listen to our stories and adventures, and encouraged us in our dreams of the future. I remember her playing paper dolls with us many times.  She has a wonderful imagination and sense of playfulness.  She was and is a wonderful mother and grandmother.  Even now, with her memory fading, she still has that sense of playfulness.  Just this evening when my husband was playing the piano, she danced around a little to the music.  This  poem only captures a snapshot, but to my sister, brother and me, it tells of a childhood well lived.  Love you Mom.  Happy Mother’s Day.

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Christmas Is...

This is just a list of simple words that speak Christmas to me, but if you read between the words there is a profound message.

Christmas, Poetry

Christmas Is…

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Christmas, Haiku

Christmas Haiku

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PM.6

FOR MY SOUL, MY OCTOBER, Poetry, Spiritual

Still

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FOR MY SOUL, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry, Spiritual

Cleansed

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;

all your waves and breakers have swept over me.”  

Psalm 42:7

roaring creek

I seek quiet rest in the roar of your waterfall

I soak gentle peace into my weary bones

I wash my soul in your crashing thunder

I drink in your ebb and flow

Divine sustenance for tomorrow

Note: this was inspired by the Roaring Creek at Fairhaven ministries in Roan Mountain, Tennessee.  The creek roars loudly and you can hear it from your cabin or chalet.  It is a very peaceful place and going there restores my soul.  There is a waterfall, but I do not have a picture of the fall; the above picture is a section of Roaring Creek.

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National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

front porch

i gaze upon tattered grace of former glory

threadbare shadows sway with thoughts unspoken

storm bent boards sag beneath dreams neglected

faded paint wears footprints from names unremembered

worn wood caresses hand-prints in memories abandoned

i sigh unspoken wishes for dreams restored

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edited to add this Haiku after the front porch was restored:

Peace reigns on the porch 
Swaying in the summer breeze 
Wishful dreams restored

 

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