Death without a witness.

Life without a friend is death without a witness.  –Spanish Proverb


This is the perfect month to visit the blogs that you like or have been wanting to check out. They are probably going to have new posts this month. Be sure to like a page or a couple of posts to let them know you visited. Leave a meaningful comment, that always makes a blogger’s day.

Sing it if you understand.

But you can’t jump the track,/
we’re like cars on a cable,/
life’s like an hour glass glued to the table./
No one can find the rewind button now/
sing it if you understand…/
Breathe sung by Anna Nalick


Remember there will be a quote tomorrow too. I am posting every day in November for National Blog Posting Month then I will go back to 3 times a week in December.

Holding Love | A Poem

me holding G


  Holding Love

Hot tears roll down my face

As I realize

You can hold love

Grace can be felt and seen

In a smile in a hug

I can feel forgiveness

And trust

I can feel the weight of promise

As I carry him to bed

God loved me

And forgave me

He trusted me enough

To give me this child

A life to shape in His name

A legacy to grow

I never knew

You could hold love

Until my little boy

Fell asleep in my arms



When do you see love in a physical way?

Today’s prompt is Do you have a book in you? Fact or fiction? Related to your blog or totally different?

I do have a book in me, I have just decided it’s not ready to publish yet. I have some of my mommy poetry that I have been holding back so that my book will have new material in it. I have thought about releasing a book of only religious poetry, but I have a feeling it wouldn’t sell. I think selling a poetry book that is only about family will be a challenge, but I think it can be done. So my book would be mostly fact but there would be some fiction in it. Most of my poetry is based on things that I have personally experienced, but some of it is stuff I have never experienced and just wanted to see if I could write about it. If I feel like I did a good job and my close family and friends don’t hate it, I keep it. Since a book about family might do better if it encompasses all the stages of family I am going to wait a little bit longer to publish it.

A Poem on Euthanasia?


The right to perish might be thought

An undisputed right -

Attempt it, and the Universe

Upon the opposite

Will concentrate its officers -

You cannot even die

But nature and mankind must pause

To pay you scrutiny.


This was written by Emily Dickinson in the late 1800′s. I always find it interesting to see that we have been asking the same questions for decades if not centuries. I find it amusing when a group or person insists that they have the right answer, or the final answer, when people have been debating the question since before they were born.

white roses, white rose bud, rose buds, rose's bud

You have to dip your cup.



Milk and Honey Floweth

Though milk and honey floweth
You still need to use a cup
Milk pours out your hands
When you try to pick it up
It won’t flow to your mouth
With no effort on your part
You have to dip your cup
This is how you start
Go down to the river
Wear your robe and crown
Don’t attempt to drink it all
Go slow or you might drown
Draw enough to fill your cup
God gave you the right size
There is no need to moan or complain
You have received your prize
You’ve been given what you needed
To make it through each week
You’re not lacking much at all
You’ve been given what you seek


Today’s NaBloPoMo prompt from BlogHer is to “Tell us about one time that you benefitted from the kindness of strangers.” This poem is an example of that. I had a thought and I tried to put it into a poem. A lady that belonged to a Christian message board that I used to frequent, helped me smooth it out, her name was Belinda van Rensburg.

Tea Haiku

darkness in my cup
I let it steep for too long
English breakfast tea


I shared a poem the first week that I made this blog about being from the Ozarks and what that meant to me. I have decided that this poem is in its final form. I have re-written it 3 times and have had it rejected around 5 times. I am surprised that it was rejected by local people, but that is the way my life seems to go. I am sharing this because today’s prompt for National Blog Posting Month is Take a post or scene you’ve written and find a new way in by rewriting with another angle. I am tired of trying to find another angle with An Ozark Girl and several of my other poems.

mini art from Nelson-Atkins Art Museum

Thank You for Your Love

sun breaking through, sunlight, water tower, evening

Thank You for Your Love

Ancient words written by strangers
Have proven true yet again
Before I cried you heard
Before I cried you caught my tears
You moved mountains and people
You changed the winds to fill my sails
Taking me from the storm
As I land on the shore
I cry tears of thankfulness
Gratitude is too small a word
There has not been a word uttered
To describe the easing in my soul
You were faithful when I doubted
And You loved me when I strayed
You showed me the package mercy comes in
And unwrapped lovingkindness in my sight
Thank you Lord for your patience and love


I wrote this poem after I snapped out of my postpartum depression. I went about 6 months without writing a poem, which is the longest I have ever gone since I was in High School.

A quote about the quiet ones.

People who know little are usually great talkers, while people who know much say little. -Jean Jacques Rousseau



Now there are some people who are talkers who know what they are talking about, but they are also the ones who can take a breath and let others talk.


Learn, Live, Hope

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.  The important thing is not to stop questioning. –Albert Einstein


 Do you enjoy growing old or do you fight against it?

I do not necessarily enjoy it, but I don’t fight it. I become wiser with each year and more accomplished. I gain friends and experiences and I would not go back to being a teenager for anything! I might like to try being a kid again, but being an adult is fun if you do it right. To read about the religious parts of my life go here. I do things like buy creams to keep myself looking my age (and not older), but I’m okay with the fact that I look 27 and not younger. For most of my life I looked about 5 years younger than I was, but there was about a week in my life where I realized I looked my age and I had to accept that. I don’t cry when I have a birthday or lie about my age.

Her Cavernous Mind

Imprint artwork

  Her Cavernous Mind

Deep inside

Her cavernous mind

The demons laugh

The angels sigh

None of them

Finding the way out

Their wings

Give her migraines


Today’s poem was written after reading a prompt from #FieryVerse on Twitter.

Today’s prompt is What is the one skill you see in other bloggers that you wish you had?

Spontaneity or the ability to write in a funny or engaging way about current topics. I would love to blog about issues and have conversations happening in my comment section. But that is something that I know I couldn’t do week after week. Instead, I just post my thoughts on Twitter or Facebook.

Without An Oar


Down Time’s quaint stream

Without an oar

We are enforced to sail

Our Port a secret

Our Perchance a Gale

What Skipper would

Incur the Risk

What Buccaneer would ride

Without a surety from the Wind

Or schedule of the Tide -


Have you ever had extended writer’s block? What did you do to break out of it, and do you have tips for other bloggers? is the prompt from BlogHer today.

Yes I have had writer’s block. I think everyone who tries to write words that move people gets writer’s block. I fight back by writing poetry. You can read one I wrote here. The thing that helps me when I am blocked is doing something cathartic like watching a sappy movie, or listening to music. I love music, especially songs that have great lyrics. I will listen through my playlists on Youtube or pop in an old CD when I am trying to break through writer’s block. I also follow a lot of accounts on Twitter that tweet prompts. If I can get myself to write out a 3 or 5 line poem then I can get going again. If that poem gets favorited or retweeted then I tell myself I am back to being a writer and everything is okay. So thank you to all of you who favorite and retweet my stuff, it means a lot to me.



white roses, white rose bud, rose buds, rose's bud

Grudge | A Poem

cloudy snowy day, trees in winter



The monster creeps in unnoticed

He wraps his long fingers around your arm

And you are powerless to stop the anger


You feel the bile rise in your stomach

The boiling begins

You taste it in your throat


Before you know it

The monster speaks for you

Words cutting like whips


The tears fall and last words are heard

Doors slam and silence ensues

The monster now controls you all


The phone silent mocks you

The monster joins in

He repeats words said


He keeps replaying the scene in your mind

Even as you get into bed

He assures you your words were right


So you listen to the monster

Shutting out the animal of reason

The bird of reality flies by


Years later the monster’s fingers lose grip

What were the words again

What was it that was so upsetting


Without the monster it’s hard to remember

When you stop being angry it’s hard to remember

When you pry away the grudge’s fingers

There was nothing there after all

I tried to write/format this poem to where the stanzas looked like monster fingers. What do you think??

Today’s prompt for NaBloPoMo is: If you could permanently get rid of one worry, what would it be?

Wow! That is really hard because I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and I worry over tons of stuff every day. And I can’t help it, and I can’t make it stop. I can’t cut triggers out or avoid the problem because I get anxious over every thing that could affect me or my family. I worry about: if my trees are going to survive the winter, if I have taught my son enough social skills, about the US Economy, how I am going to get through college, are there enough missionaries in Asia, and what should I cook for dinner tonight? And that’s just what goes through my head before I drop off my son at school. If I could permanently fix my brain so that I did not worry about 1 thing ever again, I guess I would pick…. yeah I can’t pick. They all seem large and important and if I don’t worry will I ever fix everything? Will I ever be good enough? Will I ever change anything for the better if I am not concerned enough to act? If I let go of a worry like “Is my church group doing enough?” or “Do I know enough about foreign politics?” or “Whose pictures should hang in the living room?” will I be able to be a good person?