Would be lonely Day

The grass sprouts green
the only color on a
Grey and would be
lonely day.
The waters flow down
in a rush to give
life and hope:
A baptized life on the earth
the green
on a gray and
would be
lonely day
For today
I sit with you
My ladies of the Lord
In gratitude and praise
for this gray day
Speckled with sprouts o
of green
To give thanks
and share in our triumphs
Our Trials
Our joys and sadness
No longer is the day
to be viewed as gray
For we have gathered together
Our light shines out
From with in
It adds
to the green sprouts of hope
On a never to be lonely day

The Day after the rain. A counting story

Yesterday it rained and rained. It rained so much that the street looked like a river.
Today we took a walk and guess what we saw. We saw FROGS! We saw them everywhere.

I tried to pick one up, but he was scared. He got so close to the ground he looked like a rock. Then I saw two more, 2+1=3. They too hopped away.
We saw a big one. He was hiding under the big tree by the mail box. 3+1=4, four frogs I've seen today.

We, Mom and I, walked a little farther down the way. Over at the flower pot we saw even more frogs. There was one more to add to our list. This frog was really tiny. 4+1 that makes five. Five frogs I have seen so far.

A little farther on our walk, Mom spotted one at the neighbors drive. He was fat and green with 6 black dots. Wow was he big! He was the sixth frog we saw.

As we turned the corner down the lane, Mom and I added another frog to our count. This one makes 7 as he sits on a log. 6+1, yes that is 7.

We walked past Mr. McMillan in his yard. He was kneeling down looking at his pond. He waved and called us over. " Hello, good morning Mrs. Jenkins and Lorelei. Would you like to see the frogs in the fish pond? Of course we did. There in the pond we saw three of the tiniest frogs. This brings our total to 10. Number 8 was in the middle of a lily. Number 9 was on the turtle's shell and number 10 was the tiniest of them all. He was barely visible on the edge of the water.

What a wonderful time we had counting frogs on our walk, the day after the rain.

Old Spice and a sense of calm

The Lord is working on me. I know he is because since my last post, Something inside my head has changed. I have enjoyed spending time with my husband. I walked into the living room the other day and he had just left and I could smell him. Well the smell that makes me think of him.
I 'll get hints of the smell of Old Spice mixed with the sweat of the day and my heart melts. I miss him. I miss being able to be me with him. I know the Lord is telling me not to give up. I just need to follow that advice and stop my mind from wandering to that fence where the grass is only a different uglier shade. I know what is right and I must do that. Like we teach our children. I pray the Lord gives me strength and courage to find comfort in the love of my youth.

today

I am a piece of drift wood floating down the rapids
rushing toward the falls
I wait for the crash at the end
to see myself splintered
never again to be whole
dashed against the rocks that are in the way
scarred along the way
lost in illusions
misty fogs that clogs
the way of sight
clouded judgements and bad decisions
I am the disaster
that waiting to happen.

so.. here it is..

so today I sit and I think about the truth and how badly I want it and yet want to avoid it. I want to crawl to my bible and open it up and hold dear to my heart the things it is there to teach me. Yet I hold myself back because I don't want to hold that mirror in my hand and actually look at it.
I am a truth runner, I run from it because it's UGLY because I don't think there is a damn thing I can do to change anything about who I am. I am afraid to let Him most High take control of who I am.
I think of Gideon. The Lord came to him and called him MIGHTY WARRIOR. Gideon didn't believe him he tested and tested until he believed. Gideon reminded God he was the least of the least of the clans of Israel. I think I am at that place, the least of the least. I don't hear God whisper to me, I don't hear him yell at me nor do I hear Him talk. I know he is there looking down on me but I don't feel him. I am a feeler. I need to feel because I don't know how to use logic or wisdom. I wonder what God calls me. I am not a mighty warrior like Gideon, I am not brave like Deborah and I can't even say I am faithful like Naomi. I am a gentile. I am blackened by sins that are too numerous to count. Yet I yearn for something better of myself but lack the courage to take action to change the things about me that need to be changed.

Today I think about life and death. From the moment we are born, we are dying. Some of us here die peacefully at a ripe old age while others die painfully and tragic at a very tender innocent young age. I wonder why it is that way. I wonder if I am going to pass into death full of pain and regret or will I go peacefully and contented.

I started this blog as a way to journal my poetry and it feels like a safe place to put words to the the thought that swim inside that I don't want to let out. There is more to put but I know that I am not ready to put words in ink or voice . Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be ready. I wonder if I will ever be ready the way a woman of 30 should be. I am a frightened little girl in a woman's body.

the tests

There are many tests in daily life. Lately it feels as tho I am falling very far behind of where I should be.
I am reminded over and over what a small person I am, not only in though but actions. I have learned or reconfirmed that I just don't care about things. I pray that God will put that care and desire back into my heart or open my eyes and ears so that I can see it there.
I am struggling with being slow to speak and and quick to listen. Its a struggle I have had for a really long time. Can't say I have ever been good at it.
I have also realized that if faith the size of a mustard seed can move a mountain I am seriously lacking in that department.
There is an inpass in my life. I just don't know how to make the decision that needs to be made. I just wish someone else could make it for me. I know that that is fear talking and trying to take hold of my life. I need to allow for the grace that God has for me to just take root. Doing things my way doesn't work yet I keep doing them.
Why is it so easy to do what is wrong and so hard to do what is right? Like Paul said" I do the things I don't want to do and don't do the things I know I should" . Being wise in my own eyes is also something that is a deep struggle. There are so many things that need to be dealt with and some that are buried so deep that I don't even know how to open them up to the surface.


the clouds in my skies
grow darker
deeper than night
shutting out the sight
that keeps me
on your path.
The stars
that guide me
twinkly faintly
I know there is light
but I can't see it
nor does it's warm
seem into me.

woken from a dream

sometimes muses find us when we are sleeping. Sometimes those are the best writings.
on the 2oth I had one such awakening. I wouldn't say it's my best work but I woke myself up saying it out loud. clue that it needed to be put pen to paper.

here it is.

If you don't believe
than why should I?
There are no
Happy endings.
It's all
fairy tales
& white lies
Hurt to the bone
contusions on my
soul
An open ended
Illusion
meant to keep
all my gruesome
disillusions.
Whatever were we
thinking
Happy Every After
never existed
White Lies
and Fairy tales
Little girl dreams
woman realities...
There is no joy
Just the burdens
on my chest
You don't believe
why should I
No knights
in shinning armor
No romantic
rescues in store.
Don't get your hopes
UP
keep them down
grounded
'cause the
grass ain't any
greener~
just and uglier shade
on that other side
It' just looks
prettier from here
It's all just
fairy tales
white lies
dreams of the
broken hearted.

There is life

There is life in my veins;

it runs thick and red

it burns with fear and desire

One out weighs the other

And alternates between the two


Light and dark;

faith and despair

There is life in my veins, it runs thick and red


There is hope, for the there is breath

It leaves my lungs,

hot and stale escapes my lips

I wonder will I grow

Or shall I remain stagnant as I have been.


But there is life in my veins

It shall be as it is meant to be - flowing through out

A Treble Clef Once Stood

It's dark
almost quiet
there was music playing
but now there is none.
a lonely silence
where a treble clef
once stood

Eighth notes and quarter rests
dance behind my lids
stepping side by side
slowly spinning
a romantic waltz

The light is rising
the tempo slows
holding that last note
a second
not yet long enough
the sleep ensues
and the song rests
where a treble clef once stood

pondering rain

the grass is bright
vibrant full of life
set against the gray sky
and the pouring rain
the puddles form
ripe for small bare feet
splashing in a laughing dance.