Category Archives: Poetry

Sweet Fragrance of Unity

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A pleasant warmth brushes my face as I inhale the morning air.

IT WHISPERS,

“Winter has at last fallen asleep”, tucked beneath the black dirt of the garden bed.

“Tread lightly,” it cautions.

Hope, peeking through the soil as a timid flower, is unsure of the climate.

Thunder clouds gather like opposing views bringing with it…

…winds of threat and cloudy accusations.

…Meant to harm, yet providing something needed…

RAIN

As the

words

fall

from

the

sky

of lofty

opinions,

some run off rejected

a torrential flood of judgment.

Other words

                        S

                        I

                       N

                       K

                       deep, bringing with it gentle correction.

The solar sentinel ever present though not seen, 

sends out rays of help

chasing the clouds of accusations away

like a faithful friend.

SUNSHINE

A second look and hope has emerged safe and at attention

in response to the steady cadence call of the sentinel in the Sky.

Gone are the threats.

Spring at last.

The garden has learned to embrace only words which nourish the soil and the soul,

thus filling the air with a sweet fragrance of 

UNITY.

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An Ovid to Covid

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You appeared in 2020 March, 
On a crisp spring day
Bringing cancellations and reservations
Of life’s normal work and play

We got used to the drill
Mask on or mask off?
Are any vaccines safe?
Which ones are? And which ones are not?

Then came the new variant
Delta was her name
She hit the world harder and swifter
Spreading the germ of fear once again

For some this all seemed unreal
Knowing no one who had succumbed
We were them, until we were not;
My brother once healthy and retired Now sadly gone.

We got the vaccine in the midst of our grief
Hoping to prevent more heartache
In our family, at least.

A vacation was scheduled 
and timely it was
We needed to process what had happened
and humbly seek God 

The lakefront cottage was perfect 
With no TV or WiFi
We had lots of time to explore
All the small towns nearby

We went to the market 
And were surprised to find
A horse and carriage parked by our car
We discovered the Amish live nearby

They came from Pennsylvania in the 80’s, we were told
The town is called Romulus 
Where the soil is as rich as gold

We fished on the lake
And hiked a trail one morning
We cooked favorites and took walks
And visited a museum in Corning

But the one thing that happened
That calmed all my fears
When God painted a reminder
We watched it slowly appear

A rainbow so bright, 
It was impossible to miss
God was saying “I’m faithful
To my promises—even in this!”


Our time at the cottage was 
Ironic for Tom and me.
For the small town where it is located
Is named Ovid, you see.

Ovid and Covid—two parts of this ode
The one caused much grief,
Such misery and sorrow
While the other brought peace

How can the two be so alike yet so different?
Maybe it’s like people in general;
We are human and fragile,
Yet resilient and pliable

My Ovid to Covid
Puts my heart on the page.
It’s filled with comfort and peace,
Without a trace of rage

How is this possible 
To be free of rage and fear?
By God’s grace that’s available to all who draw near.



April Is National Poetry Month

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Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash

I’ve always enjoyed writing poetry. In fact my first writings as a child were simple rhymes. I love the challenge of finding the right word that says what I want it to say. Dr. Seuss took license here and made up his own words and characters that rhyme. Some we’ve all grown to love like Cat in the Hat, Yertle The Turtle, Horton Hears A Who, and everyone’s beloved, Grinch.

There is a challenge for writers this month called NaPoWriMo, which stands for “National Poetry Writing Month“. Those who are participating are writing a poem every day for the entire month. That’s a bit much for my schedule, so I’m going for once a week, maybe. It depends on whether or not my creative energy is available.

I’ll heed the advice of my favorite poet…

“Think left and think right and think low and think high.

Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try.” – Dr. Seuss

Instead of writing poems that rhyme, I’ve decided to write prose. I hope you enjoy this one.

Sweet Fragrance Of Unity

A pleasant warmth brushes my face as I inhale the morning air.

IT WHISPERS,

 “Winter has at last fallen asleep”, tucked beneath the black dirt of the garden bed.

“Tread lightly,” it cautions.

Hope, peeking through the soil as a timid flower, is unsure of the climate.

Thunder clouds gather like opposing views bringing with it

winds of threat and cloudy accusations.

Meant to harm, yet providing something needed…

RAIN 

As the

words

fall

from

the

sky

of lofty

opinions,

some run off rejected

a torrential flood of judgment.

Other words

                        S

                        I

                       N

                       K

                       deep, bringing with it gentle correction.

The solar sentinel ever present though not seen, 

sends out rays of help

chasing the clouds of accusations away

like a faithful friend.

SUNSHINE

A second look and hope has emerged safe and at attention

in response to the steady cadence call of the sentinel in the Sky.

Gone are the threats.

Spring at last.

The garden has learned to embrace only words which nourish the soul,

thus filling the air with a sweet fragrance of 

UNITY.

Do you enjoy writing poetry? Have you ever tried? 

“If you never did, you should. These things are fun and fun is good.”

– Dr. Seuss

___________________________

My new book that my husband and I have written is now available on Amazon

The Expanding Family Tree

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Photo Credit: Fall All Year Long on Instagram

Photo Credit: Fall All Year Long on Instagram

We all have one we’re hung upon

the branches of this tree

We might know a few whose branches are new

but there are more who are strangers to me.

~~~

Why do I go to such lengths to know

The stories behind each leaf?

Because what they’ve seen and what it all means

Will help me grow in belief

(that)

God is the author, my great Heavenly Father

of the stories He’s planned so well

Of my sister and brother, my grandfather and mother

And how we got faith, they tell

~~~

God has been faithful and worth the wait for

Him to give meaning to life.

He’s chosen my portion for this I adore Him

His boundaries bring safety from strife.

~~~

I’m waiting today for a call that will say

That my second grandson is born

This green leaf is new as God’s mercies are too

That Vito will be swaddled and warm

~~~

I write to record and to worship the Lord

for His faithfulness which never fails

He was there long ago I’m privileged to know

Because my mom discovered such tales

(of)

Generations long past of which has out-lasted

the lives of those I’ve yet to meet

They have gone on before to rest in the Lord

And now walk on Heavenly streets

~~~

Each year that passes God’s story surpasses

All we could imagine or think.

When life seems too hard or pleasures too far

It’s good to remember such things

(that)

God is faithful to tell “his story” so well

If we are only willing to ask

Good questions to those who are older and know

the ones that explain our past.

(So)

Purpose to know the branches that grow

In your own family tree

The hope that is hung for victories won

Is worth the effort to see.