Found Object - Day 17

It is Day 17, and Found Object Poems are here today.  Laura Shovan is celebrating her birthday month with a poem a day in February, and is inviting anyone who would like to join in, to do so once, twice, thirteen or even 29 times (and every number in between)!
You may put your poem in the comments on Laura's site yesterday or today.  If you are reading this now and haven't sent it yet, you might as well do it today and not yesterday.

I'm excited and honored to be hosting today's "find", and will add poems as they are received, whilst sipping my steaming Latte Macchiato at Starbucks today!  I will add my poem at the end of the post, after all the others have been received and posted here!  Have a great time.  Let's see what wondrous words will be found here!

PS - if you post late, I will continue to add poems that Laura forwards to me days later.... though I may not still be at Starbucks.

Here is the image:

What does this make you think of?
Who left it there and what were the circumstances?  Is there a reasonable explanation... or better yet, an unreasonable explanation... a far-fetched explanation?
Does something else capture your attention about the picture?
What do you supposed it sounded like in that spot?  What could it see?  What wishes might it have?
That's all I'm going to ask.  You do so well without me talking.  I'm probably distracting you.
Sorry, I'll stop whistling, too, while you think.  I'll keep adding poems as they appear.
I'm going to get my coffee now.  And some cheese.  Oh, sorry.  I'm still talking.  Okay.  I'm done.

I picked this to go with my poem below.  Matchy-matchy, Tabatha!

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First up, Diane Mayr introduces us to a pair of twins.  Twins indeed!  The only way you could tell them apart was that one was right-footed and the other left.  Wait.  The other did leave, but not that kind of left, right, Diane?

Love Is a Series of Flip-Flops

 

The day she discovered

Chuck had tied the knot

Zori’s sense of betrayal

(and melodrama) was so

strong she threw herself

into the nearest trash bin.

Her twin, on the other foot,

refused to become refuse.

 by Diane Mayr

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Next up, Jessica Bigi joins in the parade, with wonderful walks of life!  Can't you just picture stepping in bubble gum?

Invisible Wings

Trace each
Beautiful Step
Pointed toes
Of ballerinas
Skater’s gliding
Across dreams
Dancing feet
Leaping on wings
Baby’s first steps
Our steps following
In our parents steps
Our parent’s steps
Giant under our feet
Snow sparkling steps
Rain puddle splashy steps
Sandy skipping whistling steps
Sticky show stepping
In bubblegum steps
Growing life learning steps
Trace each Beautiful steps

by Jessica Bigi
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Carol is in with a Cinderella tale...hope that prince finds her!

Cinderella of sandcastle dreams

left her pink jeweled sandal

perfectly pointed in the

direction of the ocean

for a young prince

to uncover her

whereabouts-

off beaching

for a bit of

R & R.

by Carol Varsalona

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I have to go to bed, but I'll be right back!
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I love this girl with "toes hanging onto summer in her sandals"!  I wonder where she went...

Found and Lost

Delicate mouth, open to the notes,
any girl on my street
with swirl in her skirt,
toes hanging onto summer in her sandals.
She dismissed the attention
and gathered the notes around her swirling skirt -
dreaming dancer.
Her eyes drifted to mine once
at a pause in the music.
I stooped to tie my shoe
and she was gone.
Outside, one pink sandal left at the trash,
broken strap.
I’m no prince,
but maybe she’ll be back.

Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved
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Catherine said, "This was fun, but I struggled with the final lines."
I say, "Oh, but it looks like you won the battle!"

A Poem of Apology, to my Sole Mate…

Forgive me,
I did not mean to get left behind,
to leave you unprotected,
but the gum on the pavement held me fast.
You curled your pudgy toes around me,
hanging on for dear life.
But your mother, always in a hurry,
didn’t understand your pleas
to WAIT!
To s-l-o-w d-o-w-n
and rescue me!
And so we parted.
You, off to a party in your fancy dress
with just one shoe;
me, left to languish here on the sidewalk,
sparkling in the shadows.

© Catherine Flynn

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Oh, this is soooo stuck in my head now.  If you leave here humming "One Pink Shoe" don't blame me!  Fun little ditty!

One Pink Shoe
(after Three Blind Mice)

One pink shoe
One pink shoe
Left by the bins
Left by the bins
It had so much fun in the waves and the sand
Then danced to the tunes of the three-piece band
Was carried, then dropped from the girl’s left hand
One pink shoe
One pink shoe

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
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Buffy, this one is just so dreadful to think about!  This would have changed the course of history!  I wouldn't want to even think about the dire effect it would have had on the Magic Kingdom. 

Fairy Tale Flip-Flop: A Cautionary Tale

Imagine the fairytale ending:
Cinderella passes on the glass slippers
and wears her glittery pink flip-flops
to the ball—

A flip-flop forgives:
bunions
fallen arches
ingrown toenails
blisters
athlete’s foot
hammertoes
spurs
warts
puffy, lumpy, bulging feet

and permits evil stepsisters to live
happily
ever-after.

©Buffy Silverman

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Waiting for the Right Foot

Fantastic pink plastic,
Enthusiastic elastic;
That’s what you see -
Bedazzled with diamonds -
I'm a sandal set free.
But beyond the pizzazz
You’ll see that there’s more -
My love for that foot
Who played at the shore
Whose hands had picked me
Off a shelf at the store.
I’m patiently waiting
Until I’m back home
With the right foot that needs me,
So I might again roam.

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved
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I have to go to bed, but I'll be right back!
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Jone has a mixed feeling, mixed shoes memory for us - "This photo reminded me of my lost tap shoe when I was in second grade.  It ended my lessons because my parents couldn’t afford to replace my tap shoes."  This may have changed the course of your life, Jone!

Flip Flop

once I
lost a tap shoe

that ended
dance lessons:
bandy twisting
clicking toes
drum slapping

today I
found a flip flop

that started
a beach day:

wave playing,
sand castling,
beachcombing
a shoe lost
a shoe found
tap dancing in flip flops

© 2016 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved
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Laura slides in after a nap, with a new twist on the pink!

Double Bubble

By Laura Shovan

The crown on your wrapper means

you are the king of gum.

Of all the sweet, chewy treats

at the lunch counter, I know

I will only spend my nickel

on you. As soon as I leave

the shop, I untwist your blue

and yellow paper. Inside

you are pink and powdery.

It’s a long walk home, enough

time to chew you into shape.

We stroll together, show off

our favorite trick: pink bubbles

five times bigger than the smile

spreading across my face.

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Getaway

I'm a little garish, yes--
A little tacky
with my rhinestone embellishment
and my approaching-neon
shade of pink
my squashy elevated heel
which no 4-year-old needs
to navigate.
So maybe Dad's reaction
was only a little extreme--
he scooped her, whining,
off the ground,
snatched me and my partner off her feet,
made to throw us in the bin.
There was a little snarling about
"a proper pair of sneakers."
But as he turned,
I did too, dropping
to the ground,
stepping towards freedom,
my garish, glittering future
in pink.

~ HM 2016
all rights reserved
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Margaret says, " So here's my weird take on this photo."
Weird, or ju-u-ust weird enough to be true?

Invisible Girl

What appears
at first glance
to be a missing
flip-flop
is actually evidence
of invisible life forms
who tend to hang out
near trash cans
just in case
someone is looking--
discreet aliens
prone to leaving
small signs
so you just
keep wondering.

--Margaret Simon 
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The Sandal Scandal

It’s a robbery,

a sin, a scandal.

I can’t find

my other pink sandal!

I’ve looked in closets,

bathrooms,

under my bed,

I threw such a tantrum,

my face turned red.

Until I noticed our dog

was missing, I ran

outside to see,

Randall with my sandal

staring at me.

Slouched over, teary eyed,

he never looked so sad,

in that instant,

I stopped being mad.

Summer camp’s tomorrow,

I’ll be gone for two weeks,

“It’ll fly by,” I said,

rubbing his cheeks.

 “Hey Bud,” I whispered,

 “I guarantee I’ll miss

you more than

you will miss me.”

by Charles Waters

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Any new poems will still be added as they come in here in the comments or over at Laura's place!

Great job, everyone!  Thanks for coming to the party!

Found - Laura Shovan Fun

So you found it!  Yes, indeed.  Tomorrow is the day - Day 17 - to write to another "Found Object" image. Today's object was literally, well, wait.  Not it was probably more "lost" than "found", I guess.  It was found by me, but I'm not sure if the person who lost it ever found it.  This may be as "found" as it got.
But let's see what will become of it!  Tomorrow I will continue to add poems as Laura sends them to me.  If you put them here in these comments, I can handle it, no problem; but you can post them in Laura's comments and she will send them to me, too.

I will end the post tomorrow with my poem.  Don't read it and get distracted.  Write first.  Send second.  Read last.  Or not.  Whatever you need to do to get a running start at it, do.  I'll be waiting at Starbucks to see what you've come up with...

I'm the one behind the iPhone.

Poeditty Friday

Michelle H. Barnes recent guest, David L. Harrison, has posted a challenge for this month - the challenge to use the word "ditty" in a poem.  Michelle's mailbox at Today's Little Ditty has been inundated with ditties for ditty, so I am posting my bit of a ditty here today for Poetry Friday.

This week's Poetry Friday is happily being hosted by Kimberly at Written Reflections.  You know you've gotta go there!  But finish here first!

A Ditty

A ditty for my love

Who’s gone so far away -

I’ll sing a pretty ditty,

Doleful ditty for each day.

He’s packed his bitty ditty bag,

And headed off to sea

’Tis such a gritty pity

For so long away he’ll be.

He’ll be singing his own ditty

As he rides the fearsome blue;

But hope that we will marry when

He says, “I’m back for you!”

He’ll open up the ditty bag

To show the wedding ring;

He’ll put it on my finger and

A new tune I will sing!

Our ditties soon will have to change

To kitties and to spoon,

To Jack Be Nimbles and the cow

That jumped over the moon;

For soon the sailor ditties

And my pity ditties sung

Will change to baby ditties,

And bitty didies hung!

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved

Next week, you will leave your Poeditty Friday links here... I will have some coffee on when you get here!  It will be BYOM (bring your own muffin).

Spiritual Journey Thursday - Intent

It is Spiritual Journey Thursday.  When you are finished here, head over to Holly Mueller's site, "Read, Write, Think" and check out the Linky to see what others have written on today's word, "INTENT".  This is Leigh Ann Eck's OLW (One Little Word) to guide her through the year.

Intent, as a noun, is your reason or purpose in doing something.

Is it mentioned in the Bible?  Yes, it is.

Acts 10
29 Therefore came I unto you without gainsaying, as soon as I was sent for: I ask therefore for what intent ye have sent for me?

Peter asked what Cornelius’ intentions were for sending for him.
Cornelius had dreamed of Peter and listened as God told him to have Peter come and talk to him and his people about Jesus.  Cornelius and all who heard were saved when they listened to Peter as he spoke the words that God intended for them to hear.

44 While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all them which heard the word.
45 And they of the circumcision which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost.


So what does intent mean in my daily journey? 

Do you ever do something, and then question your real intent?  Sometimes we are pretty good at lying to ourselves.  When we do or say something, we need to consider "what is the intent"?  Is it presented as for the good, yet actually to our benefit or advantage or vanity?

Sometimes I think it is easy to fool ourselves into thinking we have said something that will be helpful to someone, but it is actually a boast, a put-down, gossip or just plain hurtful.
I know sometimes I can be guilty of that.  I can temporarily fool myself into thinking that it was okay, but later a shower of guilt will descend when I realize that my intentions were subconsciously not the best!

When I write, when I live, when I talk, when I help - my intent, my purpose, is never to hurt, never to speak unkindly, and never have anyone question whether the Lord is important in my life.

I always want to be able to answer the Lord’s question “What was your intent?” with, “to give glory to You”.

That does not mean to say that every other phrase out of my mouth would be one of praise, though there isn’t really anything wrong with that, I guess… except for perhaps it becoming a vain repetition of sorts that can easily lose its effectiveness and meaning before becoming aware that the intent has changed from one of sincerity to one of a prideful display of humility.  Now there’s a thought:

Prideful Display of Humility

Do not let the words from your mouth
Become burdensome to others surrounding;
Your prayer and worship of God
Though joyful, through grace that’s abounding,
Should be sincerely mouthed in your heart
Not as an impressive display;
Even God will question intention
If grand speeches are heard as you pray.

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved

Okay, wow.  So that’s what just came forth with that phrase… it was longer - I continued, but it seemed to evolve into a different poem, so I've split them and made the one into two.
The continuation/split:

Intent

God’s not impressed with our posturing
Unless it’s one bent at the knee,
He harkens to all who are humble
With prayer and an intent to be
A servant, a listener, a seeker
With intent to worship Him more,
Whose eyes are intent on intentions -
That their path is what God has in store.
With prayer and sweet supplication,
My intent is to have what He gives.
The intent of the world is to still Him;
My intent is to show that He lives.

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved


Oh, and speaking of intent and its meaning in my life:

I really do try to give other people grace.  I try to assume good intent, unless proven otherwise.  It makes for a much pleasanter life when I don't take offense at everything.  I  put myself in the shoes of the other person and remind myself how easy it is to trip up and put my own foot in my mouth.  Why shouldn't it be as easy for someone else to do the same with their own foot and mouth?
The intent is not always to offend.
Forgive and move on.

Leaves

Michelle H. Barnes at Today's Little Ditty interviewed David L. Harrison, and what a great interview it was!  You do need to check it out.
And this month's word challenge on David's blog is "leaves" - in any format or any meaning.
Michelle's word for February is "ditty" - working on that one now.  But here is my poem for  David's February Challenge.

Everyone Leaves

Everyone leaves
At some time,
Maybe through a door
or dark of night;
Perhaps in a moment of fright.

Everyone leaves
in some way,
Whether with fanfare
or no mention -
Maybe just lack of attention.

Everyone leaves;
some do return,
And then in good time,
heart on their sleeve,
There's a grand story to weave.

Everyone leaves;
it doesn't mean
Perchance that I will
leave someday also;
I left once ages ago.

©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved

Poetry Friday Triple Scoop

It is Poetry Friday!  This week it is being hosted by Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect.  There are lots of links to lots of poetry! 

Tabatha Yeatts has posed this next to impossible challenge of matching up a poem to a song.  She is really good at it.  I, on the other hand, am not.  I listen to very little new music.  So I have nothing coming into my brain to help me out here.  BUT, today when I saw one of Tabatha's poems, I thought about some of my Newfoundland music.

Scoop 1:
I finally found a matchup for a song and a poem.  I've selected Tabatha Yeatts' poem,
The Old Ship to go with a song from Newfoundland (as I'm partial to this music and topic!)
Away from the Roll of the Sea

 

Scoop 2:

And Irene Latham's poem Adélie Seeking Adélie
to go with Dark Eyed Sailor (lyrics here).

They are both kind of like about waiting for a guy... the right one.  Only one is a guy with a white-ringed eye and the other is dark eyed.
Score!

Scoop 3:

And I have the other two postcards that I received through Amy Souza's exchange to display - Top right from Amy Souza,  top left from Jone Rush MacCulloch, bottom right is mine, and bottom right is from Lisa Kilhefner.

Oooh, and a bit of music to matchup with Jone's jellyfish poem on her postcard!  Under the Sea!

Floating creatures the jellyfish
One common dish
Jellyfish bells
Something that sells

Passive drifters known as smack
They won't attack
tentacles trail
Just like a veil

Undulating umbrellas
Ocean dwellers
Silent swimmers
Jellies glimmer

©2015 Jone Rush MacCulloch

Spiritual Journey Thursday - Faith

It is Spiritual Journey Thursday.  Go to Holly Mueller's site, Read, Write, Think and check out the Linky to see what others have written on FAITH.

Today Justin Stygles' has given us his OLW, "Faith", or as he has written it, "(Blind) Faith".  "Blind" in front of the word "faith", could mean that we cannot see what lies ahead.  So we go ahead blindly, hoping for a good outcome - as we hold onto the faith leading us down the path - or up the path.

But in my life, I don't feel that I'm walking "blindly" when I walk by faith.  When it says in the Bible that I walk by faith and not by sight, the "not by sight" part still doesn't mean I am blind. I have knowledge of God and his desires for me, and I've determined that God is with me.   I may not be able to see what He is walking me toward, but I have my eyes on God.  In that and in Him, I am not blind, and I cannot be walking blindly then.  I am walking by faith, with my eyes wide open.

Is a tightrope walker walking blindly as they focus on their goal, not looking down, but straight ahead?  They don't see the tightrope they are walking on, but they have faith that it is there even when they aren't looking at it.  In a sense, they are walking blindly, but they know they just need to keep their eyes on the other side, not the tightrope nor the ground beneath them.  They are trusting in the tightrope beneath their feet.  They've walked it before.  They've made sure that it is fastened appropriately.  They have practiced the movements before.  They could do it with their eyes closed.  But they didn't do it blindly.

There have been many times when I have had to keep my eyes on God and not think of the swirling waters or hard stones beneath me.  Remember Peter walking on the water at the calling of Jesus?  He was okay right up until the moment he took his eyes off Jesus and the doubts about what he was doing were allowed to swallow him up, and he sank.
The good thing though, was still that Jesus was there to rescue him and pull him back to safety.  Was Peter blind when he walked on the water - following blindly - or was he walking with the knowledge that Jesus was with him and was the source of his power?

Blind faith has the connotation of doing without seeing or thinking (though some of the thinking gets easier with faith).  Once you know how God wants you to respond in life, then you just have to think about the right choice, or path - the one with God.  Don't have blind faith.  Have faith.  Once you have been given grace, you have a different sight.  We can never be blind again. 

When I was a child of 5, I followed my parents to our new home.  I did not ask them where we were going or why or what would we do when we got there.  I followed blindly.  Or was it blindly?  I had faith in them.  I had faith that they were doing the best for me and our family.  Even though in the blind sense, I could not see where we were going and what our new home would be like, I was not blind to my parents' love and care.  I knew I would be safe following them.  I had faith in them.  I kept my eyes on them, and they didn't lead me astray.  Blind faith would, to me, indicate that you have not put your trust or faith in someone trustworthy, or that you do not know if they are concerned about your well-being.

I don't put my trust or faith in just anyone or anything.  I will not follow blindly.  But once the trust has been established and proven, then I can have that faith in them and follow even if I'm not sure of the outcome.

I can't leave without a poem.  It's what I do, I guess. 

Faith

I have faith in my key to open the door,
I have faith in my stove to bake,
I have faith in the roads I drive upon
And that maps show the right road to take.

I have faith that the windows will keep out the rain,
And faith that I'll get birthday wishes;
I have faith that my shoes will keep my feet warm,
And faith that I'll have enough dishes.

But those are the faiths that don't matter much,
The faiths in the things of the world;
I'm looking for faith that is stronger than that -
I'm looking for faith that's unfurled.

I'm seeking an outstretching, fathomless faith,
One that starts with a flickering flame
Until it is roaring and blazing upward
And warming my heart with His name.

This faith isn't blind to the person with sight;
It's right there in front of your eyes -
This faith calls for you to come nearer and know;
There is no beguilement or guise.

Faith in the Truth, the Way, the Life,
Faith in the promises made;
Faith in the Lamb, the one True Vine,
Faith that your way has been paid.

The roaring faith, the bold, the pure,
In God who was man on the cross -
The kind of a faith that leads you to live
In His comfort, despite any loss.

For we walk by faith and not by sight;
Trust in his footsteps to guide;
He loved you more than anyone could
And He proved that the day that He died.

Donna JT Smith, 2/2016

Nothing is Possible

It is Poetry Friday!  And today poets and poetry lovers of all ages are being hosted by Catherine at Reading to the Core!

Today I have a veritable stew... in a yummy way, not like stewing mad...

First, I had one wonderful response to my challenge to write at "How to" poem.  And that Wonderful How To-er is....none other than the fabulous Tabatha Yeatts!  Thanks, Tabatha - this is great...I love "Collect dust.  Get wanderlust."  Definitely a Rummage Sale Treasure!
I wish I had a prize.  Maybe I can "rummage" around and find something that was going to go in a rummage sale!

How to wind up in a rummage sale

by Tabatha Yeatts

Live a lot.

Seek blind spot.

Tuck away.

Shadow soiree.

Be lost

At any cost!

Collect dust.
Get wanderlust.

Time to go?

You'll know.

Astound --
Be found!

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Then, I have another poem on Silver Birch Press! It's about how you compare yourself to someone  well-known who has your name.  My Donna Reed poem, "How Charming", is published there today.  I'd love it if you had time to pop over for a quick read ( maybe a short comment? Do you have someone you relate to who has your same first or last name?

Next, I have my response to Michelle Heidenrich Barnes'  and Douglas Douglas Florian's challenge to write about NOTHING.  This is not a very serious poem.  I think you will get that.  Not too worried. Nothing worries me.

NOTHING IS PERFECT
     by Donna JT Smith

I’m taking a trip
Into nothingness;
I’m not sure the distance
But nonetheless,

Yes, Nothing is what
I am aiming for;
I want Nothing less
And Nothing more.

Nothing can stop me,
Nothing will do;
Yes, I’ll stop at Nothing
On earth, it’s true!

Nothing is left
Yet it's also right;
A couple more feet -
Till Nothing’s in sight!

Oh, Nothing was found -
And it’s clear to see
That Nothing is what
It’s cracked up to be.

Yes, Nothing’s the matter
I’m headed for
And Nothing is finer
On any shore.

Oh, I’ll stop at Nothing
Of the kind -
Where Nothing on earth
Is the bestest find.

I’ve found the way to
This Nothing place,
Where Nothing's perfect -
Note smiling face!

Then I have a postcard that I received from Diane Mayr at the end of December.  I'm sorry it took so long to share it.  I believe it has been shared on her blog, though, so you may have already seen it.  I love how Diane adds the subtle color and words to the images.  It was a nice surprise in the mail!  Thank you, Diane!

first light

his dream recalled

in color

©Diane Mayr

I am also doing a postcard exchange organized by Amy Souza from Spark.  I received an artsy card from Lisa Kilhefner in DC.  I think she's had more snow this year than we have!
Thanks, Lisa!  You will be receiving my postcard soon!

This postcard "collage" has a regal and festive attitude!

And speaking of postcards, if you would like a postcard - one of a very local, typical winter scene on the coast of Maine (I took 4 pictures last week), with a haiku I wrote to go with them - send your mailing address to me by email.  I will send you one of the four asap!

Here's my clever email address code so I won't get spammed in my "important people" email box: 

d - j - t -- sm - ith - - "a-t" -- g -- ma -- il -"d-o-t" -- c -o - m  

Take out ALL the -dashes-, and use the signs, of course, for the "quoted words".  I hate that the computer bots are getting smarter all the time.  I shouldn't have to hide my email to protect it.  But this is one area I won't be bold in.

I have plenty, so don't worry about someone else not getting one because you got one.  This time you may be selfish and not think of anyone but yourself!

Spiritual Journey Thursday - Selah

For the next month or so on Thursdays, a group of bloggers will be posting about the spiritual connections to their 2016 OLW.  This week's word, "Selah", is Michelle Haseltine's at One Grateful Teacher.

Interested in other bloggers' take on this word?  Stop in at Holly Mueller's site, Read, Write, Think and check out the Linky!

Psalm 62: 7-8

Selah.

"All the earth shall worship thee, and shall sing unto thee;
they shall sing to thy name. Selah."  
Psalm 66:4

My first thought was “Sure, I know what Selah means - pause, be still, meditate on that.”  I’ve heard it and read it.  But then I decided to look it up.  And to my surprise, the origin and meaning of the word “Selah” has never quite been established.
I found:

• It could be the Hebrew word calah, meaning to measure or weigh, or valued.
• It could be derived from two Hebrew words, s-lah and s-lal meaning to praise and to lift up.
• Its third derivation could be from salah, meaning to pause, as in music.
• Given the unknowns, it is perhaps good to combine the three meanings.  Stop/pause, weigh the meaning of what you have just read or heard in God’s Word, and then lift up praises to the Lord.*

There are many times when I feel the need to “Selah”.  Not the word spoken, but the word as a verb, an action, a “what I am doing”.  Amen is an agreement word.  Selah is an action or a directive.  I best understand it when I think of it as the words in parenthesis that are stage directions in a play.  They aren't to be so much said as done.

John: Good evening! (bow to the audience, turn, then laugh)

Psalms: "...they shall sing to thy name" (Selah = pause, weigh and give praises)

In the Psalms, we are directed to take a moment and weigh the import of what we have just read: measure it, compare it, note its value; then praise Him.  Not just say “Praise God”.  Praise Him with words; thank Him for your understanding, the words, the life, the salvation - whatever you have thought about after that pause and consideration of the words.

Selah is so much more than a word.  It is a to-do list, a bit of nudging, a way of responding.  A way of being present in the Word and the World.

I often have to take a moment and think about the magnitude, the beauty and the meaning of things in daily life.  These moments can so easily slip away.  Writing helps me do that.  Writing MAKES me do that.

I have to be reminded to selah when things are not going well - are worrisome, painful, or hurtful.  In our lowest times we especially need to take that breath, wait and remember the faith that sustains us.

"Selah" reminds me of how we teach young children to think about what they've just done wrong.  When they have gone awry, when they are throwing a fit, when they just need some "time out"... after a "time out", the calming down, what do we ask them?
"What problem were you trying to solve?"
"Did that (worry, crying, stomping, fighting) help?
"What might you do next time instead?"
or the old "Count to ten next time." (or higher, if needed!)

Perhaps "time out" or "counting to ten" should be renamed "Selah"!  I think I like that!
I may mention that to my daughter.  Wouldn't it be great to hear my 4 year old grandson say, "I need to selah."!

Selah

What have you just been given -

A word, a thought, a song?

Has He just made your heart light,

Has he forgiven a wrong?

(Selah.)

Have God’s Words made a difference?

Pause, hold them in your heart;

Weigh all the mercies granted,

And then let His praises start.

(Selah.)

Praise him daily for blessings,

Sing out His Holy name;

Bring to Him gifts of obedience

Accept His cleansing of shame.

(Selah.)

Thank Him for patience and guidance

For giving you wisdom and sight;

Know that our Lord up in Glory

Awaits your sweet “Selah” tonight.

Amen.

"Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits,
even the God of our salvation. Selah."  
Psalm 68:19

*http://www.gotquestions.org/selah.html

Present and Accounted For

Margaret mentioned to me that I might enjoy Thursdays here.  I am poking around and I think I just might!

So here I am.  Present and accounted for.

That phrase just popped into my head as started to write the title of my post.  Most times the title is the last thing I do.  Who knows where I'll end up when I start?  And if I do put the title in first, it often has to change.  But in this case I'm pretty sure it will not.

When I think of being present, as in present in the moment, I am reminded of times that we took pictures or video of events in our lives - to the extent that we missed the real action!  The event was viewed through a small viewfinder or little screen on the back of a camera, not in full, real life.  I remember there came a time when neither my husband nor I wanted to be the one recording the events.  We didn't want to miss it in real life!

Or it's like the photographer at a wedding with "posed pictures" of bride and groom, and wedding party.  The photographer is there, but isn't really present at the wedding, not a family or friend -   The photographer doesn't have to be present at the wedding to enjoy it - that's why we hire them!  Everyone else wants to be present to enjoy the event.

And as an aside, in the shots the photographer takes, no one really seems present!  Oh, yes, they are there.  But are they doing anything?  What are they thinking about?  Are they noticing their surroundings or the happiness of the occasion or are they just trying to stand where they are told and look happy?  Are they hoping this will hurry along so they can get to the next phase - food and dancing?
Posed and through a viewfinder... I guess you could call those photo shoots "present tense" (lol!).  The people may be physically present, but it's not where their minds are.

Present means being there in the moment.  Present means the gift you give yourself when you are present.  Viewing the recording later is not being present at the event.  We realized that after shooting video of dance recitals and birthday parties, that we'd really missed the "whole".  Yes, you are focused, but you missed out on the surroundings outside of the viewfinder, the noises, the air, the whole "taste" of the experience.  Oh, and another aside, but kind of important... all our videos were destroyed with time, flooded basement and fire... so now what do we have?  Small images in our minds - images through a viewfinder, not the grand stage.

Being present with God is akin to setting the camera aside.  It's not just reading the Bible.  It's not just singing a hymn.  It's not just saying "Praise the Lord."  BTW what in the world does that mean?  Well, are you going to praise him or not?  That's like saying "Say something to the Lord."  But you never say it.   What was the praise going to be about?  So, SAY something to the Lord.  Be present with Him.

Don't just take pictures and video.  Put the camera down.  Notice His world.  Listen to Him.  Breathe.  Talk to Him - don't just talk ABOUT talking to Him.

If you think I am talking to you, you are wrong.  I am talking to me.

The word present - and the accompanying "accounted for" in my title, directly implies my relationship with God, with the church, and life.  I want to be present and accounted for when that roll is called.  I am present and accounted for.  What a wonderful thing!

And when we know that, we can be oh, so much more present and accounted for in the rest of our lives.  I am so much more free to live joyfully and notice the world around me.  It won't be mine forever.  I don't want to look through a viewfinder or watch the recording of life.  I want to live it to its fullest, because I am in the presence of God, as He is present with me always.  God is omnipresent.

Thank you for sharing your OLW, Margaret, and sending me this way to be present and accounted for this week!

A quick poem...

Present

The present is the present
The future is not here
The present is the time that's now
Not what was yesteryear.

The present is the sights and sounds
The present - touch and taste
The present is where life abounds
Not time that's laid to waste.

Though being present may be hard
With hurts and groans of grief
Remember there is still our God
Who brings our souls relief

Don't try to run back to the past
You can't overtake the future
Look around and be content
And God will make you richer

Take care of what God wants you to
And He will do the rest
Be watchful and attentive
And He'll be sure you're blessed

Only when you heed the now
Keep watch for little things
Can you know the joyfulness
That God's present, Heaven, brings.

By Donna JT Smith

My OLW

It's Tuesday.  Time to link up with Two Writing Teachers for Tuesday's Slice of Life.  I am a retired teacher, who pops in to share periodically there.  Pretty soon it will be March!  And then it will be a post a day there!

I have been struggling with if I want to try another OLW this year.  I've tried before, and gotten distracted early on - totally forgetting about my word.  But -

I'm going for it again.

I reread recent posts and thought about my life as I thought about the word possibilities. It became clearer to me what I have been doing lately; I found that I have been trying to live my life a little more boldly.

BOLD is what I want to be, how I want to act, how I want to do things, how I want to approach (of course with an LY then) things.  So maybe the word is actually BOLDLY.

I am going to eek push a little poem out and sneak deposit it in my pocket.
Scratch those meek words.  I need more flourish to nourish my soul!  (There's a line I can use somewhere else someday.)

BOLDLY

(There.  Let's see where this takes me.)

Boldly go,

Boldly speak,

Boldly light,

Boldly seek;

Fear is not

To be my plight,

Just be bold, focused of sight;

Boldly lost,

Boldly won,

Boldly planned,

Boldly done.

Stay the course,

To self be true;

Boldly smile when race is through.

by Donna JT Smith, January 25, 2016

I am not accustomed to being bold most of the time.  I say that, but some would say that isn't true.  I act bold sometimes, but it doesn't come naturally to me in most situations.  I can muster bold when I need to.  It's not very comfortable though.  My boldness can be crushed easily.

But I am going to work on bold boldly this year.  I want to make some bold strides toward what I'd like to accomplish - and hopefully (do bold people say that?) not get crushed.

Here are a few:

- get a poem in a written anthology.  I have no idea how to.

- illustrate a poem and publish it as a children's book.  I have no idea how to do that either.

- continue to lose weight.  I have an idea how to do that.  I just need to stay on this path.

- paint another picture that I wouldn't mind signing.  I'm not feeling bold about this.

- write all manner of meaningful things.  Scary for me.

- be the best me I can.  Can that ever really be done? (No, that wasn't bold...I can see that.)

Are you bold?  Do you travel life's road boldly?

How's this for being bold...oh-so-not-so-bold...

I am tempted to just delete this post.   

djfkljfklajdklfja;lfjf  That is me having a mini-melt.  I am okay.  I'm just not sure what I will do with this word (BOLD, not djfkljfklajdklfja;lfjf).  Not sure if I can live up to it, or hold myself to it.

But I haven't deleted it.

Who's up for getting a post card? (See how I cleverly distracted myself?)

I don't mean to be kind of self-promoting on SOL time, but...

Small print - not really an SOL unless you count it as BOLD, so you can skip this if you like:
Let me remind anyone who would like to take the "How To..." poem challenge, to send it in.  I will post the poems and your blog link this Friday.  (This was a BOLD move - to have an actual challenge posed by me, and that is a BOLD hint.

I am doing a postcard exchange with a small group this month, and have made some postcards - photos I've recently taken, with a haiku written for each.  Would you like an original, hand made (well, iPhone, and computer, and printer made) postcard - photos and poems by me?* 
If you would, I will mail one to you by the end of January**.  Please just email me your mailing address.  There are going to be plenty to go around!  If I find out your address, you may just get one even if you don't want it!  It's just my OLW taking over here! 
Here's my clever email address code so I won't get spam in my "important people" email box: 

d-j-t--sm-ith- -"a-t"--g--ma--il-"d-o-t"--c-o-m  Take out ALL the -dashes-, and use the signs for the "quoted words".  I hate that the computer bots are getting smarter all the time.  I shouldn't have to hide my email to protect it.  But this is one area I won't be bold in.

 

*I am actually having quite a few postcards printed through VistaPrint - they have a half off sale today.  It does mean they will be a little delayed in getting sent out. 
**You should have it by Valentine's Day at the latest.  Most likely earlier though!  It will still be winter!

What Is My Life?

As I was listing my poetry on the links page I'm creating, I came across a poem I had written, copying the process that Margaret Simon had told about doing with her group of children. I went to Margaret's site, Reflections on the Teche, to read the description of the process again. I had been meaning to try another one, so what better time than now?

This poem was a surprise to me as I again tried the exercise.  The writing that I did in the center part ended up not coming out a poem, as it did the first time.  This time I posed questions!  Question after question came to my mind.  I wanted to write something else, but that just wasn't happening!  What would I do with questions???  I circled some key words I'd written, and then began to write on a new sheet.
In under 15 minutes, this was the result - as you can see from the photo, the first part just fell onto the paper, with a bit more work revising and arranging the ending.  I'm posting this on Sunday.  Seems appropriate.

What Is My Life?

What is my life
If not to give
Any gift so
Others live
A life more full
Of fulfilled need,
A life that’s good,
That plants more seed?

What is my life
But duty bound,
To help the lost
Find what I’ve found:
The Gift of Gifts,
The Love of Life,
The Good of God,
Our Rest from strife?

What is my life,
If not to show
The powerful Grace
One saved can know,
And that it’s all
A heavy load,
Unless with God
You tread the road?

What is my life?
It isn’t mine;
It’s loaned to me
A given time,
With voice and hands
As gifts to bring
The dying ones
To God our King.

©Donna JT Smith, January 21, 2016

I must try this again someday - maybe the next time I clean the Poem Hoem.
Thank you for reading today.

How to Write a Poem Challenge

Poetry Friday is at Tara's today.  She's looking at snow from a serene point of view and has lots of links to some fine poetry!  Head on over to A Teaching Life and enjoy poems as you sip hot chocolate and watch the snow fall (at least if you are on east coast south of Maine!).

*Special FB Message* from our Bangor Police Department especially for those in the Snowstorm Areas - read if you are getting snow and like to visit Maine in the summer:

https://m.facebook.com/ajs1980/posts/1135362313148303?src=email_notif&mds=%2Fsharer-dialog.php%3Ffs%3D8%26sid%3D10153904589291079%26internal_preview_image_id&mdf=1 

Today is a repost of a two poems from a Wednesday back in November of 2014.  I came across this when I was making a page of links to all the poems I've written since I began blogging... There are more than I thought there would be....

When Tabatha asked me if I had a place to access all the poems I'd written, I thought - Good Idea!  Now I'm thinking I need to edit my list!   I am up to (at the moment this is hitting the presses anyway) 142!  And I've just begun to count down into 2014...I have 2013, 2012, and 2011 to do!  I know there are lots in there that could be culled, but I guess that is for another season.

Maybe I should go back and write just a short phrase to help sort them out into what the poem is actually about or if it is a haiku or acrostic, etc., just to be helpful.  But I'm afraid that would take a long time.  Should have thought of this sooner!

The page of poem names linked to their location is accessed by the tab "Links to My Poems" below the title "Mainely Write".  Not sure how helpful it is yet, but I'm working on it!

But back to today.

I came across this post written for a Wednesday a while back, so I figured it would be like new poems.  It's my own special brand of "found poem"!  I found it while I was organizing my "Poem Hoem".

How to Write

How to Write a Poem

first write down a bunch of things
all the zany little zings
that just wing
into your
brain
your fenced in frame
of mind.
when your fingers stop and linger
on a gritty, grainy zinger
let it sing
out of your
brain
unfettered frame
of mind.

©Donna JT Smith, 2014, all rights reserved


How to Be Six

take away your many years
put aside your grown up fears
look for silly where you are
make a vroom sound for a car
grin and make a funny face
start a rousing game of chase
put an olive on your finger
when its bedtime whine and linger
throw a rock that goes too far
almost hitting someone’s car;
lick your finger, rub your shoe
till it looks as good as new;
put your backpack on your belly,
stick your finger in the jelly;
put on shoes, left on right -
try to tie the laces tight;
put your toys and clothes away,
toss them where the monsters play;
ride a bike, swing on swings,
think of scary, funny things;
ask one question, then another,
when you’re finished, hit your brother;
use a sheet to build a tent
ask just what “inquis'tive” meant;
find a tree to climb real high,
sitting there, become a spy;
watch for strangers and for danger,
then become a forest ranger;
ride your bike so fast you crash,
dig to find a pirate’s stash;
see how deep a puddle is
shake a soda, watch it fizz;
muddy feet and dirty clothes,
clean them off with garden hose;
then
when
you’ve become your best at six
another number has some tricks;
time to see how you will handle
another year, another candle;
grab the next list of “How to...”
seven’s here to challenge you.

©Donna JT Smith, 2014, all rights reserved

Want to try one?
Send me your "How to" link and/or your poem and I'll put it up your poem up here for next Friday!  Fun!  This will be my first challenge offering!  I'm excited!
Watch how I cleverly disguise my -e-mail-ad-dress-!
-djts-mith-
-at-
-gma- -il-
-do-t-
-co-m-
Take all the -s out! and change the "at" and "dot" to "what they say"...
(this is so my "good" account is not public, in case of botification publication and I start getting offers for toenail enhancements in the account I want to keep serious).  If that was too much like Pig Latin to you and you need me to translate, send me an email. (heh-heh, that's funny...) Or just put your link in the comments when you have it. (not funny)

******************************************
Some ideas for "How to poems"....

How to be a daisy
How to be a floor
how to clean the refrigerator
how to stuff a turkey
how to make coffee
how to climb a hill
how to try on shoes
how to comb your hair
how to brush a cat/dog
how to open/close a door
how to calm fears
how to drive
how to crack an egg
how to watch a deer
how to talk to a cat/dog
how to be fifteen
how to lick an ice cream cone

Friday's Poetica Miscellanea

My poem, "In Mountains", is on Silver Birch Press.  I hope you can stop by!   The poem is written for the theme "Me in Fiction".  I chose Heidi as my character.  You MUST remember her!  I'd bet most of you have read "Heidi".  Oh, I so loved that book - well, those books, really!  I also read the next two: "Heidi Grows Up" and "Heidi's Children", when I was young.  Most people are probably not familiar with those two books.  They were written by Spyri's French translator, Charles Tritten.  I felt like I had discovered a secret world in the mountains, and then to top it off, discovered secret books.  Until doing a search on Amazon, I had never, since childhood, heard of those two books about Heidi's older years.

After reading Heidi, I wanted to eat goat cheese and hardy home-baked breads, and drink goat milk and look up at the night sky through an open window above my hay stuffed mattress.  It sounded wonderful and wild!

I'd love some comments there...just to show them that someone does, in fact, read the poems on their site!

And now, I just have to share this picture and poem:
Last year, for Christmas, I got my husband a yellow lab pup, Ginger.  And this year, I painted her portrait.  I hadn't expected it to come out, so I hadn't put it on a standard sized piece of paper.  It was supposed to be practice.  My first picture was awful and overworked.  This one I tried to do quickly and without much preamble - grab a piece of watercolor paper, a brush, three colors and water.  Don't draw.  Just paint.  Don't think.  Just do.
I was kinda floored when I did it.  Is it a Rembrandt?  No.  But I'm okay with that. I was still pretty pleased with my watercolor - it's the first one that I've actually signed.  Hopefully I will improve with age and practice.  But for now, I do like how Ginger's portrait came out.

The finishing touch to my husband's gift was having it framed.  I ordered the frame custom made by Art to Frame on line!  It's looks so "finished" now.  You pick the frame material, the matte color, or colors if you do a double mat.  Tell them the inside dimensions you need for the mat, and they do the rest.  It comes all sized just right for your picture to be placed inside.  Oh, and you pick plain glass, non-glare finish, or plexiglass.  Another offering they have is for you to send them an image or images digitally to be framed or put on canvas.  Lots of options for art online nowadays!

Here's a "happy haiku with a reverso ending" poem for Ginger... like maybe we could call it a Semi-reversoku...

Ginger

Warm, brown eyes watch you,

Studying body language,

Waiting for your smile;

Her tongue smile-licks back,

Tail perpetual motion,

Her body electrified -

Wanting to please you,

But the happy always wins!

Joyous is a dog

 Waiting for your smile.

Studying body language,

Warm, brown eyes watch you.

Donna JT Smith, Jan 13, 2016

So I DID finally put a poem up here.  And now for more poetry, it would behoove (or is that "beehive"?) you to head on over to visit Keri's at Keri Recommends for the Poetry Friday Roundup!

It is ALL Good

A few weeks ago, the doctor found a lump, and with confirmation from a second doctor, it was determined that I needed a mammogram asap.
I gathered my relatives and a few close friends - all prayerful, supportive people - to let them know of the situation.  And for two/three weeks we prayed.  I think my husband may have even prayed more than I... prayed earnestly for the lump to be taken away.

Over Christmas, my grandson - 4 years old - visited.  On the day of their departure, he and I were sitting at breakfast together when he asked me, "Nannie, are you going to miss me?"  I told him I would miss him.  He jumped up and said "I'm going to get you something."  He went into his sleeping area and came back with the lamb he plays with while he's here.  "Here, this will help you."
"So I won't miss you?"
"Yeah."  A pause then..."Do you know who loves you?"
"Um...who?" I asked, wondering what he was about to say.
"God.  God loves you.   And you should never give up."
Where in the world did this come from?  Why would he suddenly decide I needed something like a lamb?  Why would he think I needed reminding that God loves me, and that I should never give up?
Why...when I needed to hear those words?  From a four year old at breakfast?  Really?

This morning, I went for my mammogram and ultrasound.  I brought my Lamb.  My husband took the day off in case I would need him, and accompanied me for the testing.  My son joined him in the waiting room, as he just "happened by" after a meeting at the hospital affiliated with the offices.

Mammogram results - normal.  There was nothing there now.
Ultrasound followup results - normal.  There was nothing there.  All test results were normal.

Let me again say, thank you, family and friends.  Thank you, God.  I am amazed.  I am grateful. I am humbled.

Sea Treasures Winter Swap

Sea Treasures

This is only my second year doing the Winter Swap, but it is so much fun!  For me it's a time to be able to share a little bit of ME and me - an opportunity to get to feel the "real" of our virtual worlds.  Isn't it great to know that there are actual human beings out there in the rest of the world that we know even though we have never met face to face?  This is a great tangible way to reach out and know in our digital, virtual age that breathing, living souls are on the other side of that glowing monitor, and that the typed words we are reading, first emanated from a thoughtful mind via fingers with unique swirls and whorls.  It's a mind boggling thought for me today.  I am going to stop there before I come to tears.  Thank you everyone out there for reading!  Thank you for commenting! Know that I consider YOU to be my friend!

Sea Treasures

                 
                                                                                                                           Back
                                                                                                                   and forth,
                                                                                                                      Back
                                                                                                           and forth,

Like the warp through the weft of a weaving;

As a dog who lives for retrieving,

                                                                                                               Back
                                                                                                    and forth,
                                                                                                        Back
                                                                                             and forth,

Glass pieces give up their rough edges

And stones are rolled smooth from their ledges.

                                                                                                Back
                                                                                     and forth,
                                                                                         Back
                                                                              and forth,

As a reader’s eyes scanning the pages;

Or as pendulums counting the ages,

                                                                                  Back
                                                                       and forth,
                                                                           Back
                                                                and forth,

Like the peace of a cradle in motion

Is the water inside the great ocean.

                                                                     Back
                                                          and forth,
                                                              Back
                                                   and forth,

Those shards rounded smooth from the ride

Stranded on shore cannot hide.

                                                    Back
                                         and forth,
                                             Back
                                  and forth,

As a beachcomber scanning a beach

For treasures brought forth within reach.

                                   Back
                        and forth,
                            Back
                 and forth,

Sea trinkets now swing on a crook

To show where you paused in a book.

by Donna JT Smith, 12/2015

The rest of Poetry Friday is being Rounded Up at Mary Lee's place, A Year of Reading.  Go there for more poetic goodies!

* Said I'd tell you when my poem was up on Silver Birch Press...
and now it is! #4 "In Mountains" was written for the topic "Me in Fiction".  As a child, after reading Heidi, I thought it would be wonderful to live like she did...
I will repost about this coming Friday, but if you see this now, (post edited Sunday night) you could read it earlier than that if you wanted.
"In Mountains", published on Silver Birch Press

A Christmas Card

Our little Christmas tree from our motel Christmas!

 Our inside and outside Christmas trees.  Good ole' Spiny Pine is finally big enough to wear Christmas lights!

Merry Christmas, all!

Were you able to see the full moon tonight?  It won't happen again for over 30 years.  It was so foggy and rainy today that I was sure we would not be able to see it, but just after midnight, when I turned out the lights, I noticed light streaming in my windows.  Sure enough, the fog had lifted and the moon was out big and bright!

I'm posting my Christmas card poem and watercolor today.  I made my cards this year.  I was late - very late - getting them out, but it was fun!

It's Poetry Friday, hosted by Irene Latham at Live Your Poem, where she has been posting The Twelve Days of Kindness!  Her recap is there today to enjoy!
Today for Poetry Friday, I post my Christmas card to you!

I also want to direct you to Silver Birch Press, where my poem "Christmas Storm" was published yesterday!  I hope you can go there and read it.  It really was a special night for our family.

I hope your Christmas day is filled with peace, love, family and friends!

He made the stars also
So many years ago;
One star would light the way
To where our Savior lay.

An angel said a Precious Child
Would be there in the night;
Shepherds trembled at the words
Then traveled by that light

To find the Son of God where He
Lay in the manger lowly,
With parents set in place for Him,
Though He himself was Holy.

Thus a Perfect Plan was born,
Though at a daunting cost;
As sacrificial, perfect lamb,
Christ came to save the lost.

©Donna JT Smith

Silver Birch Press - Christmas Storm

Silver Birch Express now has my poem "Christmas Storm" published on their site.  You can find it here.  It is a Christmas Eve poem, inspired by a trip back to Maine via Amtrak on Christmas in 1983.

As a young couple, we lived in Minnesota for a while, so had to make trips to Maine after our children were born to see grandparents in Maine. After our train trip at Christmas in 1983, we decided to move back East to make the trips less eventful. This was the longest trip ever with two little kids (an eight-month-old and a three-year-old old) on a train iced to a halt a few times and going in reverse at others. Had to inch along because frozen tracks can crack and it was frightfully cold out — well below zero. Bathrooms stopped working having frozen up. All trains were cancelled when we got to Chicago, so we ended up between homes not knowing when we would be continuing on the journey. But we had the best time in Union Station on Christmas Eve sharing Christmas cookies with strangers and listening as a man waiting for a train pulled out his French horn and played Christmas carols for hundreds of tired passengers. Instead of arriving the day before Christmas, we got there the day after! Thirty-six hours late. I can’t think of a better Christmas than that one, though.

I hope you enjoy it!  And, if it is in your plans to celebrate the birth of Christ... have a Merry Christmas! 
Well, and if it isn't... Merry Christmas, anyway!

Winter Swap and More Silver Birch Press News

It is Poetry Friday and I am pleased to be sharing a poem by Dori Bennett that she sent to me for this year's Winter Poetry Swap - thunk up and organized by the awesome Tabatha Yeatts.

Dori's gift of poem and star locket arrived on Wednesday morning, and worked to further boost my resolve and faith on a day-slash-week that needed girding.   How could she have known that the timing and words would be just right?  Perhaps she couldn't.  But I know that God did.

The poem was a combination of snippets from my known life through the blog, and projections or assumptions correctly and thoughtfully applied in words.  As I read it, I could recognize things that I'd written about, or was that thought about?  I could not remember having written about some things, but felt the familiarity of the words somehow in Dori's writing. The poem took my breath away...and brought a few tears!

And then there was the gift - though if the only thing in the envelope was the poem, it would have been more than enough of a gift to me!

The star locket took my breath away for a second time.  It looked like something my mother would have found and given to me for a birthday or Christmas - or I would have "lifted" from their store, years ago!  The star in its center will serve as a reminder to me to stay the course.  And besides, it is perfect for keeping two precious grandchildren photos close to my heart!

Thank you, Dori!

Guided Journey
by Doraine Bennett

Bring a book to keep you company.
Expect delays, but do not
be tempted to change trains.

Tune your inner song to the rhythm of the tracks.
Ponder the ever present whistle that fills the night.
Trust the words.

When the way seems long,
needle your memory,
recall the single leaf
whispering red,
the phoebe's feeble cry,
the unearthed treasure
etched in familiar scrawl.

If your bones are travel weary,
find your breath, that rauch breath,
and breathe into the pain.

Watch the transient images,
surrender to the mountain pass,
cross the deep ravine,
emerge onto the open plain.

Search the midday sky for shifting cloud.
Find the fiery star by night.
Follow.

When it seems you will never
reach your final destination,
unpack your shawl,
wrap its purple arms around you.
Journey on until you smell the scent of home.

***********************************

Sigh.  So many parts to love.

I also wanted to let you know that I will have two more poems on Silver Birch Press this month or next.  I am so pleased that they have been accepted and will keep you posted on when they will are published.

And now on to more poetry at Diane Mayr's "Random Noodling"!