Poetry is… #8
National Poetry Month
Poetry is… #7
National Poetry Month
Whose Computer?
A short conversation with a three-year-old.
Poetry is… #6
April is Happy National Poetry Month! I am celebrating Poetry Month by pairing quotes about poetry with images. I will share one each day without commentary. Image source: pixabay.com #poetryquote #NPM2026
Poetry is… #5
April is Happy National Poetry Month! I am celebrating Poetry Month by pairing quotes about poetry with images. I will share one each day without commentary. Image source: pixabay.com #poetryquote #NPM2026
Poetry is… #4
April is Happy National Poetry Month! I am celebrating Poetry Month by pairing quotes about poetry with images. I will share one each day without commentary. Image source: pixabay.com #poetryquote #NPM2026
Poetry is… #3
National Poetry Month
Holy Week Poetry
Holy Week Poetry
Poetry is… #2
Happy National Poetry Month!
Poetry is… #1
National Poetry Month
I Find Strength
I know not how it comes or goes . . .
Slicing through Mar ’26
Finally, on this our last day of 2026 March SOL writing challenge, I’ve gathered the titles of my 31 slices and created a narrative verse.
Leigh Anne’s Party
I’m packing my bag!
I’m using my Texas flag tote. No, I do not live in Texas. I did many years ago. Why this tote? It was given to me by a group of elementary teachers after a December workshop in El Paso. I like to remember them.
Antithesis of Holy Week
With haunting beauty, Marie Post captures the antithesis between Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and his arrest, trial, and crucifixion later in the week.
Geisha Coffee
This is a high interest post for coffee lovers.
Palm Sunday
“There is a Jerusalem of the heart. Our inner life also has its temple and palaces, its places of corruption, its gardens of rest, its seat of judgement.” -Malcom Guite
Sound of Terror
I grew in a confidence that no matter what came, I was prepared to protect and defend. No matter what, I believed I could and would survive.
Travel Bite #1
What is a Travel Bite?
It is the retelling of a moment that I captured in real time during years and years and years of travel.
Dad
The last day I was with him was my wedding day, the day he gave me to another man to have and to hold ’til death do us part. That was in June.
Blessed Indeed!
I stood very still for a few moments, letting the sight of all the lights fill up my memory and my heart with the warmth of love and thanksgiving. Then I walked on the narrow sidewalk that crosses my back yard, swung open the second gate–between my yard and driveway, stepped up onto my back porch, and into my toasty kitchen where the aroma of garlic, oregano, tomatoes, and blueberry pie still lingered.
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