Category Archives: Poetry

The Law of Thine Pencils

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There are days, as a 1st grade teacher, that I come home and wax poetic.
Today was one of them. You’re welcome.

“The Law of Thine Pencils”

And then I spake, saying, ”First thing in the morning shalt thou take out thine Holy Pencils. Thou shalt countest three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out.

Once the number three, being the third pencil, be reached, then thou shalt sharpen them straight away and place thine arse on thy chair.

Should thine first pencil snap, thou shalt remain seated, with thy mouth closed and use thine second holy pencil.

Should thine second pencil be eschewed, thou shalt remain seated, with thy mouth closed and use thine third holy pencil.

Should thine third pencil scratch, thou shalt remain seated, with thy mouth closed and lift thy hand on high with thy lips tightly shut.

If I see thine hand lifted on high and I call upon thy name thou shalt then open thy mouth and beseech me in order to use the sanctified sharpener for one pencil. With mine ‘yea, thou mayest’, Thee and thee alone will stand and go hence.

None other of the 1st congregation may lift their buttocks from their chairs nor make a noise nor start the collection of pencils for sharpening.

Such a noise shall be heard in all the land shouldest thou stand without my ‘yea.’ Lest I pelt Mine Holy Hand Grenade of Primary School towards thee, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.’

Inspired by my 1st Graders and Monty Python.

Written by Me. 2023.

Da Di da dum

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“Sweet Peas” Tara’s newest song.
Song and lyrics: https://migrantbirdsmusic.com/track/3552392/sweet-peas

I have been feeling like I’m in long a season of winter. Maybe even since 2020. When I put this new song on, I suddenly heard it as the story of my journey and what I need to be doing instead of grieving the old garden and previous Springs.


I have been so obsessed with my place in God’s plan that I lost my joy. But, I am in a waiting season in order to pull weeds and trim the vines that have grown in my life. To scrape deep into the soil of my heart and turn it to get it prepared for the casting of God’s seeds into me.


Instead of ‘the questioning’, I need to while away the time with seeing the moment to moment beauty God has, even in the gray. Preparing the garden of MY heart.


When the time is right, His garden will bloom, and I will be able to ‘see’ again.

Meanwhile, I shall do the ‘menial’ prep and echo this tune: Da dee di dum da dee di da dum dee di da dum dee di dum
Da dee di da dum dee di da dee di da dum dee di dum

Turn Aside

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Strolling through a canopy of fire.
Leaves, like sparks, pop and swirl,
Surround and entwine me within
Glowing gold, red, orange.
Breathe it in; Oh the beauty!

I have traveled long distances
To seek the burning bushes before.

But I’ve discovered bushes burn in my own backyard.
And gilded sidewalks line my own city.
I need not search the ends of the earth
For a beauty that presents itself in this local place.

This place, this time, now…
If I turn aside to see.

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Missing Them

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It’s quiet, so very quiet.
Am I walking in circles?
Wandering around my own house like a stranger?
What did I have to do again?

I find myself in the doorway,
A lonely ache floods that empty spot in my soul.
This colorful room with equally colorful memories,
Colors now gloss over, blurring.

I should go back to what I was doing…
What was I doing again?

Instead, I step in,
Greeted by our old friend, bookcase, filled to the top with favorites.
I slide my hand over a cover, Narnia,
Close my eyes and inhale the printed pages.

Turning, I leap onto the bed,
Snuggling tight with Mickey, Boo and a host of Uglydolls.

Oh the memories…
With Tara and Tori, tears flowing over Little Ann and Old Dan,
Holding our collective breath as Frodo walks into Mordor,
Amanda goodnight-ing the moon, her room.

I squeeze the dolls tight.
They become my little girls.
Where did the time go?
I rest in this place a little longer.

I miss their childhood, I miss their presence.
It’s time for me to grow up;
They did.
It seems I worked myself out of a job.

Although I cannot squeeze them or read to them,
We still talk and dream together,
While the prayers never cease for them.
Mom-ing never stops.

But “Mom” never was my job description.
Daughter is.

So Abba, Daddy, thanks.
You always love me,
Sharing Your stories with me.
We make new stories, play and dream together.sillygirls

My daughters are really your daughters,
New stories to tell, new dreams to dream.

My hand brushes across my eyes.
Slowly I rise…
What did I have to do again?
Oh yeah, laundry.

Onomatopoeia

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I adore words. Big words, little words, words that sound like rocks…?! nvm

In the cool of the mornings I like to sit on my back deck and hang out with Jesus. Most of the time the sounds of the forest call out to me and share His love.

Intrigued by the sounds this morning, I tried to capture them in words. What was that crazy word that is a word that sounds like what it is?…. Oh yeah, the coolest word ever – onomatopoeia – tada!

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Jumbo juicy raindrop – plop
Charming cherry cardinal – trill
Passive perching squirrel – chirrup
Whispering willow leaves – swish

Just to make sure I got that word right, I looked it up on the fount of all wisdom, the internet. The definition got me stuck in a thought.

Onomatopoeia means more than I expected: making or creating names. I remember reading a couple of stories about people who did just that.

On the other hand, words that sound like real-life sounds are called echomimetic. Those words are imitations or echos of sound.

You know, Christians are stuck in echomimetic mode. Yup, we copy the past, each other, the music, the experiences, the jargon… Face it we are copycats. Not much new going on here, kind of an echo of past glories without the original Glory.

But God is still in onomatopoeia mode. He calls those things that be not as if they are. He makes all things new. He created the world with creative words and gave Adam the commission to create names for all living things. He used creative methods for healing, delivering and teaching. Not once did He copy his previous method.

I want to live an onomatopoeia life. Start each project with fresh creative eyes, as if it had never been done before. Create an atmosphere of hope and love with my words. The only constant i need is Jesus.

Oh, BTW, did you know there is an onomatopoeia dictionary? Really, there is http://www.writtensound.com
Aren’t you glad you read to the end?

New Thing

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Rumbling in my spirit
Hunger
Food can not satisfy
Drink will not quench

Rumbling
Awake O Sleepers
Feel the rhythm
Cadence calls

“I can hear the rhythm
of the Lion of the tribe of Judah
He’s doing a new thing
So we’re singing a new song”*

I tire of old wine skins
Stretched and wrinkled
I am like bottled-up wine
New wine skins ready to burst

Rumbling in my spirit
It’s coming
The new thing
Cadence calls

“I can hear the rhythm
of the Lion of the tribe of Judah
He’s doing a new thing
So we’re singing a new song”*

Do you hear it too?

And His Name is made famous again!

And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.” (Mark 2:22 NIV)

*lyrics by Misty Edwards, “People Get Ready”

He chases His Bride

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Stunning afternoon
Sky, the bluest blue
Sun, clear bright and warm
Ancient tree, luminous green canopy

The Bridegroom waits

Waiting bird
Wings, outstretched motionless
Eagle, mounts in high spirals
Movement and rest, magnificent

We all wait

Opening music
Bridegroom, ear-to-ear beams
Bushes, shimmer and part
Bride, revealed glowing

The Bridegroom runs

Trembling Bride
Arms, outstretched reaching
Heart, wild aflutter
Hands, entwined embracing

We wait no more

Everlasting Vows
Two, emerge as one
Witnesses, tears streaming
Unity, God’s mystery unveiled

The whole Earth applauds as The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” Let anyone who hears this say, “Come.” Let anyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who desires drink freely from the water of life. (Revelation 22:17 NLT)