Monday, February 28, 2011

Can I Be Your Facebook Friend?

Can I Be Your Facebook Friend?

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
Friendship's new reality
And we'll celebrate our union
For all cyberspace to see

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
'Cause this friendship is unique
We can hold a conversation
And we never have to speak

If you add me as your friend
I'll accept of course, and then
I will sit here on your profile
You won't hear from me again

I'll respond to applications
Just to be polite and nice
And then so you don't forget me
I may poke you once or twice

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
It would mean a lot to me
And it's easy making friends with
People I will never see

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
Our relationship is neat
I can virtually hang out with you
And never leave my seat

I can comment on your status
Or a photograph that's new
And in voyeuristic fashion
Follow all you say and do

I will send you gifts and candy
Try so hard to keep you sweet
In the hope you never cut me off
Or (God forbid) DELETE

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
In a game of cat and mouse
I can hide behind my profile
And not ever leave the house

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
This relationship makes sense
'Cause I'm really very, very nice
And such low maintainance

If you ever hurt my feelings
I will say nothing at all
But I may show I'm offended
With a message on your wall

I will say it doesn't matter
I'll pretend that I am fine
And in order to avoid you
I can just appear offline

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
Because here's a clever twist
Even if you do not like me
I'll still look good on your list

Can I be your Facebook Friend?
'Cause now friendship is a breeze
You don't even have to know me
Just accept, then add me....please!

Pulp Fiction

Pulp Fiction

Such a messy divorce. A trophy
wife, worn like a garnish on a
cocktail glass. Now atrophied
and discarded.
Too easily she peeled back the
layers of herself and exposed a
soft fleshy heart. Congealing, it
lies stone cold, and should never
have been worn upon a sleeve.
She's bitter now, not sour.
Bled dry, lost all zest for life.
This is pulp fiction. Somehow,
it isn't funny.

Posted for Magpie Tales

Desert X-ing

Illustration by: Will Terry

Desert X-ing

The animals gathered around the map
Too many miles to measure
They'd searched the desert all night long
And couldn't find the treasure

Cat used up eight of his nine lives
And rabbit limped, not hopped
Chameleon could only change his mind
When suddenly they stopped

Dog paused and then he turned the map
A smile grew from his frown
"Well here's the reason, we were lost
The map is upside down"

Posted for Mondays Child

Going Green

Going Green

Now there once was a man from Nantucket
Who threw-up, but kept missing the bucket
But he had a wife who
Like to re-cycle too
So she gave him a straw and said "suck it"

Tongue Tied

Tongue Tied

A man who was rather a scold
Found his shouting was getting quite old
So his friends hatched a plot
Tied his tongue in a knot
Now he trips on his words, I've been told

Posted for Limerick-off Monday

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Type A


Type A personality, that's me. Not a B. C, I' ve always been this way. Driven. Ever since I can remember. Focused. Gotta get things done. Get ahead. Have it all.

I try not to be this way. I Just can't seem to help myselfI get Keyed-up so quickly. Sometimes, I hate this Letter.  I'm typecast by everyone.

Mostly, I use it to my advantage. Now that everyone knows about it, they call me an "Open Over-Achiever."  Perfectionism is the order of the day...every day!

"QWERTY" my colleagues joke.  "Relax will you, it'll get done!."  I know it's all in good fun. Sometimes, it does hurt though.

They keep TABS on me. U see, I've become Valuable in my Workplace.  X-treme? Yes,  maybe I am. But my Zeal gets the job done. Very, very well!

Posted for One Shoot Sunday

Saturday, February 26, 2011


(Phillipians 4 vs 8)

It seems to me, that recently, or maybe since forever
People are rude, give attitude, when they're saying "whatever"
They roll their eyes, start acting wise, and thinking it's clever
But since I looked, inside God's book, I think I'll only ever (say)

Whatever is noble,
Whatever is true 
Now these are the "whatevers,"
 that should matter to you
Whatever is pure and
 Whatever is right
Are words to meditate upon,
 by day and by night

Whatever is lovely,
 and admirable too
It's all of these, fine qualities,
 that you must pursue
Whatever is excellent,
worthy of praise
Consider these "whatevers"
 for the rest of your days

There will be those, who will suppose, to say that you should never
Preach the who, the where, the when and why, of whatever
'Cause the rhythm and the rhymin' and the timin' aint clever
Just look them straight between the eyes, and say...
..."WHATEVER!" "God Bless you!"

Thursday, February 24, 2011

What's the Point?

     (A few pointed God.)

Is it, that you are I AM. Firmly anchored ashore upon solid rock. The silent voice, quietly heard above the crashing chorus of wind and waves. Deep calls unto deep. Is that the point?

Is it, that you breathe into the breakers, whisper above waves, speak into the swells and turn the tide into waters of redemtion. Reclaiming souls, that would otherwise be lost for all eternity, in the depths of the dead sea. Is that the point?

Is it, that you are captain of the wayfarer and castaway, the shipwrecked and stowaway. Every un-seaworthy sailor, who has turned away and hidden below in the hull.  You invite them aboveboard, leading them by light, on foot, across troubled waters to an exquisite upper cabin. Heaven. Is that the point?

Is it, that you flood the night with searchlights, seeking that which was lost. Your eyes, sweeping the farthest corners of the horizon. Relentless. Exhaustive. You are Father, shepherd, bereaved...'til at last...a son, a lamb, a treasure. Heralding a reunion of much rejoicing. Is that the point?

Is it, that  as You illuminate the encroaching day of reckoning, You become a beacon, beckoning. Calling us home. Is that the point?

Is it, that through dawn of daylight, turn of twilight, midst of midnight, You are starlight.  Your shine, eclipsing moon and sunlight...O Bright Morning Star. Is that the point?

Is it, that when sunset succumbs to a sepia glow. Your eyes light up, to let me know.  As present as through  morning light. So will You be through depths of night. Is that point?

Is it, that you are a faithful lover. Patient. Wading the waters. Waiting.  For an unfaithful lover to U-turn to you. Is that the point?

Is it, that you are the bridegroom, awaiting his bride on her maiden voyage to infinity. She is radiant, riding on the crest of a white water wave. Shining. You, in all your Glory.  Beaming. Finally guiding her ashore.  You share a long awaited embrace. Greet with a kiss, to commence forever. Is that the point?

Is it, that You are quite simply...
                                          ... looking for love?

Posted for Theme Thursday

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Pieces of Spring


Springs' Appetizer
Slowly coming together
In bits and pieces


Luke 6 vs 42. How can you say to your brother, 'Brother let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brothers eye. (New International Version)

clearly, you don't see me
as you should. is it the wood?
it's a fleck, just a speck
what the heck? this defect
i suspect, magnified, multiplied,
through some wide-eyed
black-hued, worldview
that you hold...
as your lens

the All-Seeing sees
these hypocrysies
with sinless scrutiny
and injects His perspective.

granting an invitation
under grace, to a place
face to face, eye to eye,
you and i, each must try
to remove from ourselves
the wood, that would
guarantee, you see me you should.

Monday, February 21, 2011


Monkey and me, were drinking tea
And feasting on fruit cake
But then I felt a rumble, and
The earth began to shake

"I think there's going to be a storm
So we'd better pack up"
Said Monkey "Oh, it's all my fault
I hic-cupped in my cup"

Posted for Monday's Child

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Dining on a Song

No reservations for fine dining on a song
So "if music be the food of love- play on"
and on, with melodies and harmonies
best served upon the ivories, of Steinway.
And Stradivarius Strings.
The opening prelude whets my appetite.
Mere foreplay, awakening the senses
to a most opulent and extravagant entree.


To conclude, the final suite. A rich
crescendo honed with honey,
so light, as with wings, it takes flight.
The sweet aroma rising to the Heavens,
falling softly upon the ears of a God,
who gives His nod of approval from
the balcony.

This, is soul food. How it savours the
senses with internal applause.
Play it loud I say.


Posted for Sunday Scribblings and One Shot Wednesday

*Thanks to Shakespeare for the 2nd line*

Saturday, February 19, 2011

it's complicated

my facebook
status stated:
it's complicated!
i update this current
love/hate my mate
state, won't relate,
or set a date,
can't you just
wait? wait wait
WAIT! weighting
me down. 'til I write
down the state
of the union,
virtually all
my "friends"
who will (or won't)
"like" what i "share?"

should i
delete it?
tweet it?

i don't know
or maybe i do
i do, I DO!

wish, that this
i don't know
status quo, that i
bear, bare, like the
aging ringless finger,
cirlce game we
play every day
after day
up and down
round and round
and ring around
the roses i will
carry on the day
we marry, yet we
tarry and we tarry
well, because
it's complicated.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Sticky Feet!

Now there once was a woman whose feet
Had a twitch when she ate something sweet
Glued her feet to the floor
She ate chocolate galore
But shes stuck on the edge of her seat!

Thanks to Lots of Laughter for the "Edge" prompt.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Shell Shock

Shell Shock

(a haiku)

alone among friends
middle and membrane exposed
 victim of 'shell shock'

Posted for Theme Thursday

Lucky Break

Lucky Break

(a limerick)

Now there once was a boy while in traction
From his learning was missing-in-action
He remarked "Why it's cool
to skip two fifths of school,
'cause I'll miss the whole unit on fractions!"

(*For lovers of wordplay : boy breaks his leg, but he's not a bit broken up about it, since he gets a long break from school and studying broken numbers...fractions! So I guess you could say he had a"Lucky Break." He's an egg-head anyway!*)

(*also approximately one third of this limerick is in italics*)

Posted for Theme Thursday

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Thinking of Blinking?


today I think
I 'll stop my blink
for just a short occasion

eyelashes kink
then eyelids sink
some kind of lid invasion

I'm on the brink 
when both eyes linked 
start blink-wink-sync-opation

this poem was submitted for: Three Word Wednesday.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Self Preservation

Self Preservation

"Edna, where's the bloody salt?" his irate indignation
Although the doctor stated: "Please consume with moderation"
She handed him the shaker, gave no voice to reservation
For wisdom speaks in silence and it's called self preservation

Thank you (again) to Magpie Tales for the image.

Monday, February 14, 2011


looking back
I publically maintained 
a pillar-like posture
privately crumbling
like iodized decay
under the weight of
her caustic cascade.
shame falling like
like dust at my feet.

she turned again
relishing the moment
and peppered me
tossing angry words 
like grenades
over her shoulder
dry and burning
upon fresh wounds

shaken, I had but
one wish : no tears

Thank you to Magpie Tales for the image.

Colour Me

Colour Me

Colour me midnight and ebony,
The inner, blackest side you'll see,
Sins darkness washes over me,
I drown within its inky sea.

Colour me scarlett,  do you see
Irreverant complacency?
Trangression and iniquity,
Have stained the very core of me.

Colour me crimson, look and see,
Him nailed and hanging on the tree,
His blood outpoured, flows pure and free,
Salvations debt at Calvary.

Colour me Jesus,  do you see?
His righteousness and purity?
My sins erased, I'm blemish free,
When Jesus is the colour of me.

Saturday, February 12, 2011



Green and serene. The colour 
of her grandchildrens eyes.
Harriet repainted the house
ten shades darker now.
Perhaps a little tainted by the
stubborn stain of the feud.

They come, always through
the tradesmens door, bearing
todays currency. Daffodils,
hyacinths and a selection
of hot pastries.
It's a fair trade.

Quite suddenly it's summer
inside the Greenhouse.
And life blooms again
full and fragrant
but all too fleeting.

Sipping sweet tea,
and drinking deep
from her memory.
Rocking in reverie
for a time,
and a time,
and a time.

for more Greenhouse stories click here

A Lesson Learned

A restlessness,
A new life yearned,
A whispered lie,
A heart is turned,
A wayward child,
A Father spurned,
A shattered life,
A lesson learned.

A prodigal,
A bridge once burned,
A second chance,
A path returned,
A contrite heart,
A love discerned,
A life restored,
A lesson learned.

Luke 15 vs 11-32

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Foot Files, from Sole to Soul: It Is Well.

"Hit the ground running." I always thought that anyone who used this phrase was probably exaggerating and overstating it a little bit. Until today that is. Today, I hit the ground running. Literally.

My day started at 4.55am. I set my alarm to wake me so I could pray for my sister who was going to be at an appointement at 10.00am UK time (which is 5.00am my time..argh!) After 15 minutes of prayer in bed (which is never a good idea) I decided I would snooze for five more minutes before I got up to go running. I'd fallen behind on my run schedule, and needed to do a longer run this morning. 10km.
I set my internal snooze ( which is also never a good idea) closed my eyes...and fell asleep!
I awoke again at 5.30am in a panic and jumped out of bed. I ran while I put on my running clothes and then ran out of the door. My 10km  had now changed to 8km due to my impromptu lie in.

It was a tough run this morning. Running alone in the dark is no fun. And certainly not when it's -15 degrees with 3cms of snow on the ground, repeating the same monotonous loop for personal safety.
An hour later I'd finished my run and arrived home just in time to wake the children up for school. Then it was time to make breakfast for 4, lunches for 4, take a quick shower and then get the children out of the door for school which begins at 8.00am.

After school drop off, I had a few errands to run, then back home to throw in a load of laundry, fold a load of laundry, clean up the breakfast bomb site and start preparations for supper.
At 9.30am I had to drive back to school and pick up Elliot and take him to the school hockey game, stopping at the sports store first to buy a new mouth guard. 
I stayed for the first two periods of the hockey game, then had to leave to go and work in the Kindergarten room.

After work, I picked up Ethan and took him to see Elliots' second hockey game (yay we won.) Then it was home to finish making supper and take Ethan to his after school hockey practice.

Once hockey was over, we came home, hubby came home, we ate supper, and then I left to go to the church for a drama rehearsal.
I  finally came home just before 9pm and was able to put the children to bed and say goodnight to them Phew, what a day. Time to stop. Stop running and be still.

 I didn't need to go and tackle all the jobs that I didn't get done today, I needed to relax. My stress level was high and my energy level was low, so I decided to take a bath. Now, I'm not one who normally takes a bath, but my feet were throbbing, and I wanted to soak them. And since I was going to take a bath, then hey, why not go all the way, and cross off item # 28 on my to do list.

So the scene was set. Steaming hot bath, smelly bath products from Christmas, candles and the portable CD player.
 I selected a CD of instrumental hymns.Tonight I didn't want words or noise, just  peace and quiet. I pressed the play button and submerged  myself below the fragrant foam. Ahhh...

As the familiar hymn music played, I sang along wordlessly. I felt as though the beautiful, God inspired lyrics were cleansing my inner being as the bath water was cleansing my body.

When track # 4 came on, I couldn't help but smile. "It Is Well With My Soul." How funny that now, since I've been blogging about my feet, that that's what I think about, when I hear the word soul. So I asked myself... "When peace like a river attendeth my way...When sorrows like sea billows roll...Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say...It is well, it is well, with my soul..."

Is it well? Yes, despite everything that awaits me, when the bath water grows IS well with my soul. God IS very present in my life every single day, through mountains and valleys, good and bad, ups and downs. He is my peace on the calm days and on days when I hit the ground running.
 I also rubbed the bottom of  my feet together. Very smooth.  Yes, it is well with my soles.

When Winter Weaves

When Winter Weaves

Through midnights still and darkest hour, upon a silent loom
A winter weaver softly spins, outside my living room

A crystal canvas tapestry, embossed on glassy face
As fragile frozen flowers bloom, from threads of liquid lace

The sunkissed silken strands reveal, upon an icy pane
Invisible embroidery, within a window frame

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

If I Could Only Say...(A poem for Elliot)

for my dearest Elliot, who stutters.

If I could only say,
All the words I want to say,
And could say them in a moment,
And it didn't take all day,
I would talk and talk for hours,
Conversations would not end,
I'd pick up the phone at 2am,
To chit-chat with a friend.

If I could only say
All the words I want to say
And not feel as though my language
Was on permanent display
Then I may not be so awkward
Might not feel so ill at ease
When invited to hang out with friends
To simply 'shoot the breeze'

If I could only say
All the words I want to say
And not waste my time just wond'ring
Why I have to speak this way
I would never have to daydream
Phrases fluent - flowing free
Wouldn't envy, what to others
Seems to come so naturally.

If I could only say
All the words I want to say
You might see another side of me
Than what's here on display
I could hold obscure opinions
Tackle topics out of reach
Share my every thought and feeling
Without worry about speech.

If I could only say
All the words I want to say
And speak out for all to hear me
In a bold, confident way
I would stand upon a soap box
Take a megaphone downtown
And I'd never hear "excuse me"
"Please repeat that" or "slow down"!

If I could only say
All the words I want to say
And my words were smooth as satin
Not like corduroy and frayed
Would you see that I am threadbare
Would you see the gaping hole
That disfluency has worn
Into the fabric of my soul?