I must let go . . .

I must let go . . .

Tuesday Slice of Life : July 12, 2016. As I write this Tuesday Slice of Life, I find that sentences don’t work. And feelings overpower words. My best is a rough draft. I doubt I will ever revise or edit it. In this moment, it is raw, like my heart. We gather And...
I Saw

I Saw

Poetry Friday : July 8, 2016. In a crowd yet alone touched by many loved by none he called out. I saw Hope. Moved with compassion a man reached out his hand touched him. I saw Love. With body bent in broken desperation she touched his garment. I saw Faith. Sensing her...
Blueberries

Blueberries

Tuesday Slice of Life : July 5, 2016. In the early morning hours of the Fourth of July, I put on my berry-picking grubbies and headed into my friend’s enormous blueberry patch. The air was heavy with cool dampness. Birds were twittering their morning songs. A...
Sea Joy

Sea Joy

Poetry Friday : July 1, 2016. Sea Joy Jacqueline Bouvier When I go down by the sandy shore I can think of nothing I want more Than to live by the booming blue sea As the seagulls flutter round about me I can run about–when the tide is out With the wind and the...
From Seat 6B

From Seat 6B

Tuesday Slice of Life : June 28, 2016. From seat 6B, I look out the tiny window. The flight attendant holds a tray of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies in front of me. Although the aroma is tempting, I maintain control with a quick “no thank you.” The man...
Writing Just Because . . .

Writing Just Because . . .

Tuesday Slice of Life : June 21, 2016. Every Monday rolls around and I tell myself that this is the day. This is the day to think about writing just because . . . Not for a project. Not for an assignment. Not because I need a model for a lesson. But just because I...
Nobody Expects Anything

Nobody Expects Anything

Tuesday Slice of Life : May 24, 2016. At three o’clock this morning as I shoved last minute items into my carry-on, I reached for one of my favorite books for travel reading and squeezed it in beside my work already packed. I’ve read and re-read every page...
On a May Afternoon

On a May Afternoon

Tuesday Slice of Life : May 10, 2016. The sky is summery Here, there is a puff of white The sun is warm on my face But a brisk, nippy breeze Reminds me of winter A profusion of blossoms Arrayed in a myriad of color Some brilliant, some now faded Nod as they welcome a...

Digging

Seamus Heaney, described by Robert Lowell as “the most important Irish poet since Yeats,” was perhaps the best-known poet in the world in our age, a master story-teller, the recipient of the 1995 Nobel Prize for Literature. From “Digging” My...
On an April Day

On an April Day

The sky is summery, the wind is nippy Trees have donned their garb of spring Arrayed in brilliant color, flowers are nodding That’s what it’s like on this April day a poem for April 2016 National Poetry Month, a literary celebration inaugurated by the Academy of...
Spring

Spring

Cold melts away Sun rises earlier Grass grows green Leaves unfurl Blossoms lift their heads Daffodils dress in yellow Crocuses in purple Tulips wave red, yellow, pink Robins pull worms Songbirds sing Squirrels scamper Summer’s coming Writing about my writing Why...
Vintage

Vintage

Paint to me is part of story telling, whether brush strokes on canvas, transforming walls or giving a new lease on life to a vintage beauty. Rachel Ashwell My granddaughter, a high school senior, motioned me over beside her on Sunday and complimented my outfit (made...
The Strength of My Friend

The Strength of My Friend

During her middle school years, my daughter, inspired by Isaiah 40:31, composed the following poem. I saw an eagle Soaring above the land Looking so free Compared to a man. His strong wings were spread As the gray clouds grew In stormy wind Without fear he flew My...
Bookending My Days

Bookending My Days

#SOL16. No.31. SUNRISE                                                                                    SUNSET . . . the bookends of my days . . . Watching the sun rise and set from a window in the sky is a normal routine in my life. You see, I travel thousands of...
Once You Have Tasted

Once You Have Tasted

#SOL16. No.30. “When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” Leonardo da Vinci Da Vinci’s words seemed to leap from the page of one of those...
Dishwashing Made Easy

Dishwashing Made Easy

#SOL16. No. 29. Dishwashing is a slice of life common to most of us, right? Well, it was the subject of my casual reading the other day. Yes, you read right. Your eyes did not skip a line. I was reading about dishwashing. You see, I downloaded a forgotten book (read...

In the Old Country

#SOL16. No.28. Melted snowflakes Maple-wood smoke Hints of cinnamon, cardamon, cumin In the mysterious Old Country That no one knows anymore Every winter a hundred years long Every spring a miracle Water like music, music like water In the Old Country Whose name and...
Alive Forevermore

Alive Forevermore

#SOL16, No. 27. Easter Sunday 2016 I am he who lives, and was dead, and Behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. Revelation 1:18 This I believe. A foreboding darkness Covers the land Jesus hangs On a cross As life ebbs He cries It is finished Bowing His head He dies The...
Easter Past

Easter Past

#SOL16, No. 26. I have been following Mark E. Weston’s Heartland Series, stories from his boyhood. His writings are making me pause and remember. So for my slice today, I’ve written a poem remembering Easters of my girlhood. My title, Easter Past, borrows...
The Marmalade Cat

The Marmalade Cat

#SOL16. No.25. Yesterday, I published a memory from my first grade year — “The Day My Teacher Died.” Today I am writing a piece that is a snapshot of my thinking as I crafted it. However, before I begin unfolding my thinking, lest my narration...
The Day My Teacher Died

The Day My Teacher Died

#SOL16. No.24. Prologue: This is my true story. The account is completely accurate. Names have been changed and a detailed added, but I will share more about that tomorrow when I write about the writing. The cat. It was a big marmalade cat. When I see a marmalade cat,...
Lunar Lunacy

Lunar Lunacy

#SOL16. No.23. It is the very error of the moon. She comes more near the earth than she was wont. And makes men mad. William Shakespeare, Othello Sharon and I sit in the Brian Center dining hall with Mick, waiting for his dinner tray. Mick, in the final stage of a...