As a kid, did anyone else feel safer by simply hiding under the covers when there were scary sounds at night? Does anyone else feel safe, at peace, when the sky is covered with clouds, too exposed and vulnerable when there’s not a cloud in the sky? That’s how I often felt and feel. Maybe …
When I ask for life like it used to be, You say, “The past was beautiful, But the future is brilliant. We’re on an adventure, No two days are the same, But I’m leading the way. Remember our past, Rejoice in the present, Rest in the promise of the future. You are and always will …
Yellow is the best color. It’s butter on popcorn At a movie theater. It’s a sunflower lifted toward the sky, A VW Bug stuffed with friends, Hip-high rods of cement and steel That tell you it’s safe to walk here. It’s a glass of lemonade On a hot summer day, The star atop a Christmas …
Beyond the veil, the Maker waits, Adorned in shining yellow light. An inner sanctuary bright, Sweet balm that every longing sates. Before the veil, I stand and gaze And long to venture toward His side, To never feel the need to hide– But I’m a wretch of sinful ways. Then to my right …
I am currently working on the next chapter of Lady Elizabeth. Who knew writing a period story would be so challenging? But, as I find myself increasingly concerned with historical accuracy, increasingly much time must be spent on researching the minutest little details (it’s really quite fun), and each sentence’s wording and structure requires careful thought. …
Sometimes, you don’t realize something is missing until it comes back. The neighborhood mockingbird who does a stellar impersonation of car alarms all. night. long. is just such a thing. He went away for winter, and apparently returned two days ago. So I wrote a poem in his (annoying) honor. In days of old, they …
I’m a history major–I think I’ve mentioned that before. As I approach the end of my schooling, all the history stuff I’ve learned over the past years is finally bubbling to the surface and becoming an integral part of my thinking. It’s so exciting!! So, here’s a history lesson and a poem :) In class …
The best of days are days like these, when my grandchildren come to visit. I play catch with vivacious little Timmy, laugh with Isaac when he sticks the wooden spoon into the bowl of flower and milk and dust flies everywhere, and I sit and drink tea with solemn, sweet Abbie while she reads a …
I wonder how it came to be That magma cooled for thousands of years, Pushing forward toward the sky, Rolling, rolling down a stream, Till, cool and polished, This mottled stone came to me. I wonder how it came to be That someone dropped a tiny seed, Which the wind wrapped in a blanket …
I had to write a poem using a metaphor and/or simile for my class. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? Basically every poem I’ve written is or has a metaphor. No, it was very hard. This is all I could come up with: Laziness You are a Bradford pear tree in bloom, Branches abounding …