Do a fast baste stitch,

Can your seams hold together

When pressure’s applied.



Blurry lines entrance

Into olfactory receptors-

Sometimes a jolt,

Vivid unbidden

“Feels”, hear again, see again;

Or Gentle warmth,

Daytime lucid memory.

Cold front

Ferocity of racing wind,

Arms behind, vigour

In dragging the shadowed cold

Behind, face grim flint.

Once the thick cloak

Arrives, sun will no longer

Smile amiably, pleasant lulling, neutrality a diversion

To the hard, bright day coming when crystal blue sky will have a peculiar, invisible shadow.


At twenty,

Rumor was I was pretty

With glittery silver and pink makeup

And the feeling at 106 pounds I was chubby.

Quick judgement at forty

Bloated marshmallow face

And acne scars;

Wrinkles forming more with

Each squint, smile.

Covet winsome lines that make me a beautiful

Soul, etched by thoughts of hope, gentleness, and prayer.

Simple faith


Unreasonable peace-

Reminder of when I was young,

Before faith became complicated-

Songs straightforward release-

Speakers amplified as I sung,

Not fully educated.

God’s lantern shines to darkest parts of my heart,

Always learning,

Slow in responding.

My prayer,  show the weaknesses in logic,

In failure to practice,

Turn this indifferent heart your way.



We approach this together,

Eyes clear and soft-

A cushion

More effective than steel

The give painful, but we are not a destroyed,

The hand that holds both of ours

Our intercessor.


We want what we love to be beautiful,

hence corrective lenses for the heart

to be able to mine out the diamond,

the ruby, even the onyx;

well-shaped character

increases the well of forgiveness

For ordinary gravel of faults,

or physical defect.

Mud Fight

Controlled mud fights,

squishy red-brown-

One of the rare times to get

two pages of a woman’s magazine read,

half watching as the oldest,

cupped hands scooping,

then shampooing the younger child’s

(usually tow-headed)

hair to color it .

“Not the face!  Don’t aim for the face!”

In spite of an involuntary mud-mask

on the copper-headed oldest child,

there are giggles in relief at

not being stuck inside this rainy spring day.

Global Warning, a writing prompt

Transparent aura, solid strength

denser than a sound wave

where His finger points

stalactites and stalagmites

in the open

sharp, glittery teeth,

and unmarked paths.

His eye set to others

at his command rotation starts

vortex vacuuming, releasing


the eye magnifies

sun’s prisms a hundred times

resulting in cries and curses.