The combination
Of Old Spice and peppermint
Recalls smiling times.


In the middle of a crowd
You can get alone
Just to listen.
Just to be.
You’re taken away to a quiet place.

You step on stones made smooth
By years of cold water
That trickles down from up the mountain.
Sure, deliberate steps
And a spirit that is still.
Skipping rocks,
Collecting pebbles,
Thrilling at the feel of water
As it tickles around your ankles.
Little things you see
Fool’s gold,
A small snake,
All manner of interesting insect –
Things that go unnoticed
By we who admire the water
As we pass by and say,
“Wouldn’t it be nice to stop and stay

You’re alone.
And God can talk to you
Because you have chosen
Just to listen.
Just to be.


The coldness of the night
Robbed you of sleep.
Memories, regrets,
Worries, fear,
Solving the world’s problems
From under the covers.
Minutes tick away
And you are no closer
To peace
Than you were at bedtime.

As you drift
In and out of sleep
A light
Soft, at first,
Touches your cheek.
Just the first glimmer
Of daylight
Begins to warm your cheek,
Your heart,
With Father’s love.
He spreads His light
Across your face
And strokes your hair.
He spreads His love
Across your heart
And erases the hurt.

With the light
Comes peace.
This morning His mercies are new.
But why should today
Be any different?


For Now

I went to the movies
A matinee
Some silly comedy
Nothing romantic
Because I had hoped to laugh.

I drank cappuccino
While watching people pass by
Our favorite seat near the window
Decaf, wet foam
Just how you like it.

Last week
I drove by the gardens
Where we strolled so often
Planning tomorrow
While savoring today.
I did not stop
(I’m not ready)
But drove slowly past
The scent of roses
Teasing me down the street.

One day
I will be able
To drive through this town
Walk through a garden
Browse a bookstore
Sit by the pond
Make a pot roast
And smile.
I may even take in a movie.
But for now
I’d be content
To go an entire day
Without aching for your presence.

Rain Drops

of rain
down upon the
earth, making all
things shine like a
cluster of sparkling new
diamonds, and filling each
lake and stream and river,
and giving moist life to trees
and flowers and crops, are
so gladly welcomed by
inhabitants of

Inner Circle

As the crowd settles

Around the room

On chairs and steps,

In quiet corners

And on snatches of rugs

Chattering greetings to each other,

They barely notice

The group in the middle.

You settle into the inner circle

To tune yourselves one last time.

A quiet drum thump

Brings you to casual attention.

So in tune with each other

In tune with the Spirit

A quiet nod is all you need

To begin your worship

Through improvised perfection.


But I notice.

I feel like a tagalong.

I watch in admiration mingled with envy

You music-makers.

Following your hearts

You follow each other

From one song to the next

Leading us all in worship.


The Spirit reminds me

Through your music

That I am welcome here.

(We all are!)

There are no tagalongs

In the inner circle.

So I give what I have

To worship

And make my joyful noise.

I hold in my hand
The last of the lilies
That colored my yard all summer.
They grow along the sideyard
Where his grandmother planted them
Years ago
Before we even met.
Inspired by their beauty
I planted more
In tribute to her.
Orange and yellow
Bright as the sun
In a cobalt vase,
Bringing light to my table
Set for company soon to arrive
And enjoy the flavors of my garden.
Another bunch of deep red
Stands on the table near the couch
Where he and I
Spend many hours together
Talking and laughing,
Working the Sunday crossword,
And dreaming
While a warm breeze comes through the window.
One pink lily
Sits in a mug by my bed
A gift for me that he picked himself
To tell me he loves me.
What to do
With the last of the lilies
That marks the end of summer.
I stand in the sun
And think,
Then finally choose to wear it in my hair
And feel loved
For the rest of this lovely day.


Lily 3


Lily 2Lily 1


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