Pounding the Keys

I left the door open;
standing at attention
for whatever it is
you would have me do.
Sleep called me
and I asked dreams
to dance me a revelation.
There it lay on the table;
a pen and a blank page
and shadowing in the corner,
that old Underwood typewriter
he gave away;
another piece of my heart
ripped out,
but you always patch me up,
and send me back out there
to step over the rubble
to sigh out a testimony;

Once a poet,
always a poet.

~I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 28.

I fell behind due to illness and hospitalization but am determined to finish even if I am behind.


Love Letter #59: Vows

You gave me gifts
before I felt grass
between my toes;

heard birdsong
in chorus
with the beating
of a broken heart.

I stumbled
time after time;
each transgression,
a slap in your face,

and when no one
could love me,
you did,
with the passion
no lover could fathom,
the grace, not even a mother
could muster.

Each time I make my way
to the altar,
there you stand

waiting to say “I do.”

~Penning a poem a day from today November 24 through December 25th, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 2.


Love Letter 53: Elvis and an Empty Chair

I keep two chairs on the porch
even though the conversation
is one-sided and the coffee

doesn’t quite taste the same.

Some nights, when the stars
are brighter than usual,
I turn Elvis up louder,
and share our song

and sometimes,
I could swear
as those white roses sway
in the evening breeze,

I hear you join me
in the chorus.


Love Letter #49: Date Night

He was surprised
when I suggested we sit in the park

and just talk.
We could have had candles
and a vase full of roses,
napkins in our laps,
and the hum
of other conversations,

but I wanted him all to myself-

sun beginning to fade
with just the ripples in the pond,
scent of fresh cut grass
and the reflection of periwinkles
in his soft, brown eyes;

oh, that gaze he gives me
the one that makes me look away;
hold back the tears.

When I think of us
I think of daffodils;
a love so delicate, unfading
and gold as morning,
whispered new every awakening,
like dew upon petals;
like pages of poetry,

crisp, like the red of autumn.



I hear a voice
counting sheep for me
and patting my head

when it falls.

When the rain is too hard
to stand under,
he is my umbrella;
my shelter in the storm.

I see the sun breaking
through lace curtains;
the same light that led the way
when my feet were dragging

and the weight on my shoulders
was almost too much to bear.

When I speak,
unaware of the direction
my words may take,
I know he is holding my hand,
bringing ideas to fruition.

I only thought I was the poet.


Morning Glory


Oh, light, posing promise,

                        like posies,

        picked apart, strewn;


        like morning glory,



                below bedroom windows.


Oh, jealous moon

     tempting twilight,

        with its scattered stars




  like the thoughts

         you left me with.



You are not alone

Working on my book and thought I should share a few thoughts…If you are feeling lost, betrayed, abandoned or alone, I have been there and I can tell you, you are never alone. If you have lost family or friends, God will restore relationships and even bring you new family and friends, and as in my case, he will even bring you someone who loves you unconditionally. Someone who sacrifices their own needs to make you happy; someone who puts you first…someone who makes you laugh when you are in tears…someone who not only accepts you with all of your baggage, but puts it on their back and carries it with you. So, if you are looking around and see no one, it is an illusion because if you see only one set of footsteps, they aren’t yours…..I love you all …. and I am not the only one… ❤