Small are we grains of sand swept away on the beach of eternity Whispers are we breaths lost in the winds of time’s velocity One song are we sung in the setting sun’s poetry Great only for Love Image complements of Pixaby.com
via Psalm — My Heart Your Shelter
For quite a while my inner being has cringed during the times I hear Christians use the term “traditional marriage.” However, I have not been able to put my finger exactly on why, since I am a Christian who holds to the rich history of the reformation, and the sufficiency of Scripture. But lately, as […]
via Why, As a Christian, I Do Not Hold to “Traditional Marriage” — Joshua Jenkins
Remember when I think of you
that squeaking wood roller coaster-
head jerked side to side,
up and down a joke.
Spread smooth notes of apparent positivity
when we converse-
Our voices sing together in conversation,
until you are called away.
When your back turns, you re-merge with
the clique of girls with long, shiny hair and
matching rose lip gloss, fading tone of
your rapid voice as I turn away.
What I confided echoes back,
you twisted this crowbar,
tuning it to your laughter.
vibrations travel through school halls.
Still in my foolishness,
when we speak,
i somehow hope my trust will
delicately chain me to you.
Serene! Roses in red, Stretched over lands in brown, Hurt their small selves with prickly thorns; Decor! ©Ismath
via Cinquain:Natural embellishment… — Mychoice360
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. Not sure how to participate? Here are the steps to get started. (Prompt idea courtesy of stephaniewang)
via Wind — The Daily Post
https://theblackwallblog.wordpress.com/–Please visit her site, it’s terrific!! Have you ever wondered if anyone actually reads your blogs? Well K did and knew I have been having time with bouts of sickness from the many antibiotics I have been on. She felt compelled to ask me to email her. We emailed back and forth yesterday and she […]
via A Big Thank You to K — toni1964blog
Molecules strung together like spun sugar. Licking her lips, anticipation. A rocky start to a great marriage. Craggy coastline of her figure Pock marks from all the jabs. Time has a way to weigh her down.
via Untitled — Seasons: A poetic journey of a thousand miles
The atmosphere siphoned
the sauna veil
WIND changing direction
It left in it’s wake
a dry, flat heat
for the late summer;
dusty green everywhere.
A hint of shade,
Autumn’s time will come.
Don’t mind parties,
ignore the gnawing insecurities
that wrap themselves around your abdomen,
so you have to cross your arms to stand straight.
No, that group across the room is not laughing
at your shirt
clothes you donned thinking this would be more
The coach in your head
claps hands together once,
“Don’t talk about yourself
or your passions-
they might think you are weird.
Stick to questions,
so the burden of the conversation is on them;
weather, career, the food here,
these things are stable
to balance on with confidence you
don’t actually possess.