Tag Archives: Poetry

Dying Leaves

Green leaves burst forth
heralding spring, summer to come
Basking in sun amidst blooms
bright pink, yellow, orange

Magnificent beauty
Abundant life

It never lasts long enough
Tears fall as blooms fade
Leaves turn red, then brown
Crisply dying on the ground
Winter follows

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For Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub De Jackson is tending bar. She’s calling for poems that include the word leaves “in honor of the season many of us crave.” As you might be able to tell from my poem, I am not among that “many.” I am not even close to ready for summer to be over. Not even close.

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My Story in 44 Words

Another poem written during my coaching class with Sarah Thebarge.
—–

My Story – A Quadrille

They stole my innocence, my peace
Left me powerless, without any choice
Pain buried in alcohol, drugs,
academic success
Unhealed pain, despair, darkness
never leave, never will

God calls me from exile by His Word
His people who love me
His dream of forgiveness

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My Story – a Haiku

This morning at the Oregon Christian Writers conference, Sarah Thebarge (author of The Invisible Girls) challenged her memoir writing class to tell our stories as a poem. As a greater challenge she suggested a Haiku. Here’s what I wrote.

Innocence stolen
Nothing heals, despair sets in
Dream shows path of grace

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The Loveliest Jar

A lovely jar
thrown in clay
by the Maker
See it cracked
chipped, smashed upon the ground
Shattered to dust and shards

Despair lingers until
the Maker comes
sweeps up each shard
Each grain of clay dust
He restores the jar
to greater beauty
——-
My Quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub. Required word is jar.

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Resurfacing in Blue

I should have seen it coming
this sense of feeling blue
Delving into trials of the past
to write a memoir that’s true

I’m doubtful that this venture
is worth the time and pain
Will I survive this process
where no secrets will remain

Or will there be some truths
odd feelings buried deep
that I’ll find I cannot share
but to myself I’ll keep

It’s easy to write stories
of cerulean skies above
What I want to convey at last
is God’s gracious love

The writing is not easy
for it has been said
Where no tears in the writer
the prose is surely dead

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The Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today is to write about something blue. I didn’t really have time today, but this poem kept nagging at me, so here it is. I hope to get back to dVerse later to do some reading. Do pop over and see what other poems of the great blue you will find.

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Who Am I?

A Quadrille self-portrait for dverse Poets Pub.
——–

I am afraid at my core
but courageous because
I know God loves me
I am survivor, forgiver
I am a killer, but forgiven
I am an introverted extrovert
straddling the line of expectations
Melancholy but full of joy
Lover of mercy and justice

image

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Drought of the Soul

In this wasteland
of trials and tribulation
pain and suffering
illness and loss
my soul longs for solace
for Your refreshing waters
but there is only drought

My soul is parched
cracking at its brittle seams
thirsting for Your well of grace

And yet I realize
the well is there for the drawing
it is I who have failed
to lower my bucket
and drink deeply

——-

Yesterday at dVerse Poets Pub, Walter called for poems about either drought or deluge. I chose drought.

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A Dog’s Summer Vacation

I love vacation because I get to spend more time with my mom and dad. Even if a lot of that time is riding in the back seat of the car. Eventually we get out and I get to hang out while they eat their picnic lunch and share pieces of pastrami and chicken with me. Yum! Then we head off on a trail. I’ve never been on such a long hike before, at least not that I can remember. And it’s hot out! I keep trying to sneak into a cool ravine, but they pull on my leash and say, “Stay on the trail, silly dog.” I see a chipmunk run across the trail ahead and I want to chase it, but that darn leash stops me. I do hope we get to the end of this trail soon. This is a long hike for an old dog like me. I need a drink and a nap. Oh, but first a dip in the cool lake.

Summer vacation
Hiking near lava rock flows
Fun, tiring outing

Roman after a long hike

Roman after a long hike

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I’m finally getting around to posting for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub, where Toni is calling for us to write about the dog days of summer.

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Where Division Begins and Ends

I watched the children at their play
Left to their own devices
Selfishness and pride ruled the day
They seemed to forget what nice is

I saw the ones who had no toys
Longingly eye the others
The rich, the privileged girls and boys
Ignored by their busy mothers

On each small innocent face
I saw a measure of pain
What they needed was a helping of grace
So abundant love might reign

The poor kids think they’re missing out
The rich kids equate love with things
What both need I have no doubt
Is the love of the King of kings

But who will teach them how to love
And receive love in return
You and I must show grace from above
To create peace for which we all yearn

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Two Paths Diverge

image

As I sit on this bench
Winded and tired
Reveling in the cooling breeze
Two paths diverge in a wood
And I must take the one
That goes uphill
Not knowing if or when
I will reach the end

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