Thirsty windblown leaf
longs for taste of spring;
taste of Living Waters.

Chaff lost upon the breeze.
Now, seeks the Lamb of God;
seeking that which can set free.

Tears falling as raindrops,
seasons turning briskly;
turn frigid and rather thin.

Earthly seasons leave this life.
Yet, there’s true life in water;
there in the Living Waters.

“They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat;for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” Revelation 7:16-17

Back for a bit over at dVerse; saying “hi” to the gang.

First Day of School ?


Formal Setting:
Depending on which side
of the chalk board one stands;
bubbling excitement of new friends
or old begin the school year.
There’s the teacher who spent summer
lining lesson plans to unlock children’s mind!
Student’s whose feet…
are still wet with summer sand;
building castles from last year middle age studies.
Stiff shoes, clean clothes, waxy crayons, and lunch…
Piles of homework stuffed in heavy packs,
crowded halls, bells ringing, and long days.

While at home:
Summer studies melt into fall’s colors;
caterpillar still hangs in wrapped chrysalis,
frog is a lesson in metamorphosis, and
summer’s flowers are a science project.
Mornings are spent in P.J. lab coats;
pounding out the hard stuff like everyone else.
Afternoons linger in literature and such;
exploring to one’s heart’s desire.
For one day you’ll be that engineer,
medical advisor or build your own business.
Education started at home… with your first steps.

Home Education isn’t such a surprise to people anymore, but 30 years ago we battled a few giants. Between my sis and me we taught all our eleven children: two began their own businesses, one became a police officer, another a nurse, one a day manager of a restaurant, an engineer, two are in the personal care, one serves in the Starbucks community, one is still studying to be an electrician, the youngest just graduated and is on her way to a medical profession.

Through the years my boys socially were involved in church clubs, community sports, organized educational outings, and monthly home school activities (where dozens of children competed in different events). I now have the privilege of helping educate my granddaughter and watch her flourish into the woman she will one day be. Watching her take those first steps in so many different things life has to offer is breath-taking.

Pioneer Patchwork… and a few other things.


They say there’s art in stitches
and the dry miles driven
past mud slides and torrents;
shanty towns and shady saloons,
Once settled, the loneliness lingered
till inspirations of : Prairie Queen,
Rose of Sharon, Road to California, and
Quilt of Oregon budded from their story.
Oh, yes there is art in quilt making
heritage in the loom, repaired chaps,
tales in daily aprons to wipe away tears,
and long evenings of the quilting bee.
The art was in lives; daily living.

Returning of the Fawn


Ecliptic sun rest…
in ribbons on spotted fawn;
orbits brings this season
of birth and nurturing.
Cool degree in wood,
In this place about the earth.
I glide,
as shooting star
waiting for the perigee
(a moment explored)
hidden in fringe
of forest shade.
Reflecting with scope
unmanageable for me;
a zenith, in which,
I cannot reach
its summit.

There isn’t a day which passes, lately, in which I seek out the twin fawns I spotted a year ago in the underbrush of our woodland. It was such an unexpected event, one I wish to revisit. Above is the new twist, via dVerse’s prompt, to the old poem below. Enjoy the pockets of summer sun soon to turn to autumn.

In Shaded Wood

Twin fawns nestled in dark places
like spotted mushrooms rooted deep;
with stealth as crafty shadow stretched.
My muscles misplace their motion.
Years… I’ve sauntered this craggy path;
seeking only enough riches for one day.
Amazed in this extraordinary moment;
wondering how many years will pass,
if again, my eyes will gaze on such a site.


The stars they twinkle one by one;
a splendid sight to see.
I watch them shine across the sky;
a million miles from me.
His deed to speak them there to stay,
now I affirm His fame.
Heaven is not so far away;
tonight I rest in peace.
“The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.”
Psalms 19:1

Still lingering in Psalms 19:1 writing Not-So-Common Meter over at dverse.


The Nature of Things


I drench my pillow with salty tears,
as night shadows loiter – slowly lurk;
till twinkling stars map promising hope.
Down woodland lane and sturdy oaks,
past thick meadow spills new growth,
toward endless surf and eternal sands;
all so much greater than I am.
There I whisper a longing prayer;
God’s creation with each rising sun.
“The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.”
Psalms 19:1

Over at dverse we’re taking a look at nature’s healing touch.

Dirge for a Tree


my camera’s lens captures unusual qualities
scoured by flood and drought’s full vengeance
a hundred trees, precious trees, now stand dying

lush woodland slipped away, no longer speaks is dying
why is it the present holds hand with faults of past qualities
ripping with revenge, pouring payback and venting vengeance?

wind whipping loose bark from trunk with vengeance
brittle branches breaking, crackling under foot still dying
is tree’s charm mislaid or making way for new emerging qualities?

my eye captures new qualities
with vengeance,
no longer dying


Written in Tritinas Form (a,b,c…c,a,b…b,c,a…abc) in reflection to finding beauty in dieing tree and photographing them. Inspired by Emma’s dirge to Summer’s end. Linking up at dVerse.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 655 other followers