Friday, April 29, 2011

55 ( minus 1)

i can't pick up wet soap
or fish with one hand
can't count endless stars
or hourglass sand
can't knit without needles
shower without h2o
make tequila without agave
or a snowman without snow
write poems without a muse
or in shallow waters dive
i can write 54
can't write 55

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Mosaic of Mercy

These are the moments I relish
When the Omniscient
Sees the pieces of a foolish life
And fashions them
With grace into
A mosaic of mercy

prompt : relish, foolish, mercy

for forgiveness

if forgiveness were a journey
I would take it to its end
and embark upon the odyssey
'round twist and turn and bend
at the final destination
past and present to amend
then I'd take that journey
for forgiveness

if forgiveness were a mountain
I would find the strength to climb
and ascend up to the summit
of most glorious heights sublime
panoramic views of pardon, and
true absolution mine
then I'd climb that mountain
for forgiveness

if forgiveness were a river
I would wade the waters deep
soul submerged beneath the surface
as the cleansing currents sweep
all resentment ebbs away
while the flowing mercies keep
then I'd cross that river
for forgiveness

Monday, April 25, 2011

To Kiss a Girl

Illustration by : Clara Burd

O'er Shetland's fair and lovely isle,
In fields all moss and grassy
We three companions sit a while
My pony and my Lassie

Dressed in the finest tarten
And in my cap a feather
I gather up a sweet bouquet
Of wild and fragrant heather

I tell them of a mighty plan
My heart as bold as brass
To ride as leader of my clan
And kiss a bonnie lass

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Tomb Raider

What really happened on Easter Sunday? Who raided the tomb?

Ask a dozen different people and you'll get a dozen different answers.

Quite recently I heard an account of a conspiracy at the resurrection. Really? Sounded pretty ridiculous to me. But then I thought about if for a while. If for a conspiracy you take the dictionary definition literally, then let's see what you get...

Con-spire : verb
1. To agree together to do something, especially secretly...
2. To act or work together toward the same goal...
3. To plan or to plot..

So who are the Tomb Raiders? Obviously Lara Croft isn't one of them. Who then? Well, in my opinion, there were three persons involved. I would like to call it a 3-man operation, but since over 2/3 of the conspirators are divine not human, I prefer to call them persons. The Trinity.

Person #1. God. The Omniscient. The All Seeing Eye/ Eye in the Sky. Although I believe all three members of the Godhead are equally involved in the resurrection, God most likely, was the mastermind behind it. An elaborate operation such as this one probably took quite some planning. Perhaps even an eternity. God oversaw the whole event from an unseen, secret (except to persons #2 & #3 and some angels) aerial location. Heaven. God raised Jesus from the dead (Romans 10 vs 9, Acts 13 vs 30).

Person #2. Holy Spirit. Stealthlike. Unseen. Invisible. Probably the member of the Godhead who supernaturally moved the stone itself in front of approximately 18 Roman soldiers before they even realised what was happening. The Holy Spirit raised Jesus from the dead (Romans 8 vs 11, 1 Peter 3 vs 18)

Person #3. Jesus. An inside job? Yes, I think so. He was confirmed and pronouced dead by Roman officials and laid to rest.  Well, dead men can't talk. But then, miraculously and triumphantly,  three days later, He appeared walking and talking to many witnesses.  He broke out of the tomb and left the useless grave clothes folded behind Him. Nice touch! Jesus raised himself from the dead (John 2 vs 19-22, John 10 vs 17-18)

So was there a conspiracy? Did God + God + God raid the tomb? It's definately a possibility. I will have to do some more research. But I do know this for sure, that Jesus was raised from the dead and for that I'm eternally grateful. Quite simply for me it means that when I die, I've still got a whole lot of good living left to do. Hallelujah - He is Risen!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

You Would

                                       you would, i know you
                                       would. do it all again if
                                       you had to, you would.
        allow yourself to be nailed to a cross, there, to be a sacrifice for all
        mankind. to give us new life JESUS, you suffered in pain and agony
        and would i stand by? deny? once, twice, thrice, the price too high?     
                                       i would like to think that
                                       perhaps i would stay by
                                       your side, but, in truth i
                                       would run and hide. i'd
                                       flow with the tide of the
                                       ones who cried, crucify.
                                       so here now, i come to
                                       bow, and remember all
                                       that you've done on the
                                       cross, knowing that you
                                       would do it all again for
                                       me. i know, you would.

                 View my animated Easter poem here                              

Monday, April 18, 2011

Over Easy

Screwed me over easy
didn't you?
Behind my back too!
Given enough heat,
I knew you'd show
your true colours.
Beware the dark side.
I doubt there's a crumb
of decency in you.
Broken up about it? Me?
I'm glad you're gone you
chicken livered jerk!

In a Flap!

Illustration : Elizabeth Webbe

Duck feathers a flyin'
She rushes and dashes
To iron the curtains
With shiny blue sashes

Duck's cooking and cleaning
And singing and humming
So much to get ready
Her friends are all coming

She'll open the door
Of her cosy Duck shack
With a flap of her wings
And a smile and a "Quack!"

Posted for Monday's Child

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Movin' Up

Came off the
rollercoaster ride,
Mr Meloncholy
by my side and
let it slide,
we rode the
moving platform
for a while.
Doc said...
"What's up?"
"I'm down"
I cried. then
he (illegibly)
prescribed a
newer, bluer,
chill pill. 75ml
Now I'm back
on the move
finding my groove,
stuck out my thumb
& hitch hiked,
"cause I like
moving up to
the next level
of numb

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Cross Exchange - an animated poem for Easter

Music by Eden Symphony Orchestra - and is copyrighted by Music Publishing Rights Collecting Society
This is a collabrative work with Sheila Moore . You can visit her blog here

Friday, April 15, 2011

Three Questions to God - Easter

Dear God

If Jesus said "33...
Is too young for me
To die on a cross"
Where would we be?

If Jesus said "Take from me..."
In Gethesemane
"No!" to Calvary
Where would we be?

If Jesus said selfishly
"For humanity
there's no eternity..."
Where would we be?

I just wondered...

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Burning Words

(*Looking for 55? Then click here Ooops*)

Burning Words

When your writing has gone bland
Want some advice?
To your poetry or prose
Just add some spice
A thesaurus makes it hot
Sprinkle liberally, you've got
Burning words, a smokin' rewrite, very nice!

Posted forTheme Thursday
Prompt :Spice

Flower Power

We're all around
We're underground
We're rising up
We're breaking ground

We're fresh and new
We're overdue
We're coming out
We're breaking through

We're gonna tower
We're boasting ours
We're showing you
Our flower power

Flowers...they will be on the March, through April. And May be seen holding peaceful displays thoughout June, July and August. 

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Guilty (Limerick)

How tragic the defense used delusion
Tried to sway the jury by illusion
Evident are the facts
Of these murderous acts
And now GUILTY, the only conclusion

Posted for Three Word Wednesday
Prompt : Evident, Illusiion, Tragic.

SAD - a Shadorma poem

(Seasonal Affective Disorder)

liquid salt 
from dark inner wells
with sunny serotonin
cloudless skies

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

reality bites

in my reality, you were
silent but growing more
distant and remote, yet
while i held the control
all was well with me, in
my reality...

you're in the family room
face like a flat screen and
i'm going to need some
subtitles to understand
what's showing, but i hit
pause 'cause i need to
channel my energy into
what you were viewing
last night. "So You Think
You Can Dance your
way outta this...?"

you're in the bedroom
throwing stuff in a bag
and i'm throwing out
accusations "i heard
you had a great time
last night Dancing With
The Stars!  i thought it
was just the guys going
for beer and wings?"
you're tuning me out.
i turn up the volume.
"what about the cute
all American Idol you
were seen with? "you're
just a bunch of Gigolos"

you're in the bathroom
looking for a razor
a toothbrush, an exit
biting your lip. perhaps
i should bite mine. no!
"blonde or brunette?
she didn't sound like one
of The Girls Next Door.
then came the Mythbuster,
you slipped the ring from
your finger and set it down.
"it's over... for good this time."
and suddenly i felt all the
control slipping from my

you're running down
the stairs and i'm staring
down at you and clawing
back some of the control.
so i try rewinding a bit,
suggest an Intervention,
y'know some counselling.
you smile, but somehow i
know it isn't because i've
said something  funny.
"An Extreme Makeover
couldn't save us now"...

you're getting out 'cause
you can't stand the heat in
Hells Kitchen. you want
to try The Bachelor life.
everything goes static. my
heart is pounding thumping
harder, faster. running The
Amazing Race inside my
chest. i can't breathe and
 i can't speak. i'm mute...

i'm on my knees crying
begging pleading needing
you to hear the words i
can't seem to get out ,but
i've lost all control. i so
want to be the lone strong
Survivior that gloria gainer
says I should be, but i come
over all Desperate Housewives
instead, 'cause deep down
i already know that i'm
The Biggest Loser and i
want you with me forever
 i try to stop you leaving
and i'm pulling, grabbing
your maple leaf hockey
Jersey. Shore this is my
dose of new reality. and
it bites. hard!

*There will be a change to tonights scheduled broadcast. Please stand by*

Monday, April 11, 2011

55 - girl on a string

cute little puppet
marionette plaything
cut chrysalis cords
for butterfly wings
can't tie her up or
tie her down, both
feet off the ground
she's a flight of
fantasy, an errant 
kite that wrapped
me tight around her 
finger like a mellow
 yellow lead balloon
bursting into a
 nothing fling 
my girl on a string

Wind and Willows

The days are long, carefree and easy
In meadows green, where no one sees
The sun is warm, the air is breezy
We'll do exactly as we please
Beneath the weeping willow trees

Posted for Monday's Child

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Holy Cr*p. A Lesson from 1 John.

 There are four people in my house. There are four bathrooms in my house.

All things being equal, you would think there would never be an issue with having a bathroom to use. You would think....

Let me explain. Bathroom #4 is located downstairs in the basement. No one is allowed to use this bathroom, except my parents, when they're visiting from England. Bathroom #3 is on the main floor. It's a powder room, used primarily by my sons and their friends when they come over to play. Caution... adults, use at your own risk! Bathroom #2 is my en-suite bathroom, but since there is no shower in there, and I prefer showers, I rarely use it. That leaves bathroom #1. It's supposed to be the "little boys" room, but in reality, it's a family bathroom. We all use it. All the time. And during rush hour, it's like Grand Central Station complete with traffic, chaos and line-ups. I call it the #1 John or 1 John.

It seems strange then, that the bathroom would be the place to go for some alone time. 

Somedays I need to escape from the Aspergers in my family. Today was one of those somedays. And since a week long cruise alone in the Bahamas wasn't an option. I went to the bathroom. I went to the bathroom, because no matter what, people will generally leave me alone in there .And I wanted needed to be alone. The "emergency" situation that had been brewing (and believe me when I say that it wasn't a real emergency) would just have to wait. Outside the bathroom.

Once inside, I had a good look around. It was untidy and unclean. On the mirror: toothpaste splashes, water marks, finger prints and my sons hair. On the counter: handprints, toothpaste, lotions, potions (all without lids) soap residue in the sink and my son's hair. On the floor: towels, dust, my sons hair. The toilet? Well, with three guys, it's pretty hit and miss. You get the idea.
One look at 1 John and I had a sinking feeling. The bathroom was such a reflection of the state of my own life. Obviously I wasn't keeping up with the housekeeping. But it wasn't just the housekeeping, I wasn't really keeping up with anything. Aspbergers, parenting, bible study, running, writing, cooking, cleaning. In all these things, even with my very best effort, I was still falling well below average. I felt overwhelmed. I felt like I wanted to cry. Then I heard an audible voice...


"What here?"




"But I don't want to"


"But it's dirty"


So I knelt...on the bathroom floor.

For a long time I was quiet. But then, as I knelt there, in the filth of my (our) own making, something lovely happened. I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Quite the contrary. I started to laugh. Not just a chuckle or a giggle, but a full out, a few decimals louder than what is considered polite or normal, near hysterical laugh. For a long time.

I laughed because I was "purging" myself by laughter in the bathroom
I laughed because I was before the "throne" talking to God
I laughed because our bathroom, the place we go to get clean, is the dirtiest room in the house.
I laughed because I was getting a good inner cleansing in the bathroom. No soap or water required.
I laughed because being below average is an act of humble Christian service. People like me make the above average look so much better.
I laughed because I'll only ever be below average. And I'm cool with that.
I laughed because I was suddenly filled with an uncontrollable, overwhelming joy
I laughed because God just proved He will meet you... anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

I felt clean and refreshed.

"Are you okay" the voice waiting outside inquired?

I got up, unlocked the door and said "Yes, I'm fine"

I was about to give him a hug when he said...

"You didn't flush."

"That's right, I didn't" I said flushing a toilet that I hadn't used.

I went to try and  hug him a second time

"You didn't wash your hands either."


So, I washed my hands, which were already clean.

 I smiled.

I returned to the bathroom a while later, with a note. I posted it on the mirror. I call it my new "scripture." Don't bother looking for it in your bible. It isn't there, because it doesn't exist. It's just my own little reminder. It reads... 1 John (my bathroom) 10:4 (April's date.) "Never forget the cleansing that took place in here."

I won't.

I made a note to leave a bible in the top drawer...just in case. And put my jeans in the laundry. Hot cycle.

I also cleaned the bathroom.

At bedtime, the children saw the note. Thinking it was referring to their (sometimes questionable) hygiene, they worked harder at brushing their teeth before bed. My husband saw it and thought it referred to how I'd cleaned  the bathroom. He left it cleaner than he found it. Guess we all got a little cleansing today. And so did 1 John!

Access Denied


A woman was fit to be tied
Could not lose the weight, though she tried
Then she said "Better buy it...
This new "Alarm" diet..."
A fridge that said "Access Denied!"

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Say Cheese

I am a crooked line
Hiding inside a face
My little pearly whites
All fighting for a space
The day I lost my babies
Mom took me to this place
And there an orthodontist
Fitted me with a brace

Jumped on the Poetry Bus
Prompt: "I am a crooked line"

Saturday News

Saturday mornings
News spread on the covers
Sharing different views
As friends and lovers

Saturday mornings
Huddled under the covers
Making our own news
As friends and lovers

Friday, April 8, 2011

One A Day

One a day, One a day
The Napowrimo way
Exercise matter gray
For this poet cache

Failing that, kneel and pray

Thursday, April 7, 2011

55 - less is more

shrinkwrapped like
deli meat, drinking h2o
on the go, downsized
from a D to a C
so i could B...A
little less of me
and more like what
you want me to be
still you're relentless
and more and more
i'm begining to see
that less of you is
more of what i want

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


We are but strangers here
Aliens, in a familiar foreign land.
We knew this dust, walked this clay
Until one day, we found "The Way"
And entered through a narrow gate.
Now, seamlessly we slip in and out among
the indigenous inhabitants.
Maintaining closeness from a safe distance.
Separated by a distinct invisible line.
Outwardly the same
Inwardly changed
and changing.

We retreat, withdraw to quiet places.
Kneeling, we fine tune our ears to
Discern His still small voice.
Discipher His Divine instructions.

We return, parallel.
Working the soil for a common gain.
We assimilate, liberate, celebrate and procreate
Build permanent relationships
Erect temporary dwellings.
Showing His love through
a form of osmosis.
Endeavouring to bring
Salt and light.
Outwardly belonging
Inwardly longing
for Home.

We laugh and cry, live and die
But can leave with little regret
For we never forget, as aliens,
We are but strangers here

Out of Eden

Snake slithered in the garden
A tale to fabricate
And plucked a juicy apple
Which Eve sinfully ate
Feeling somehow peculiar
With elevated state
Adamant and insistant
She gave some to her mate
Now seeing they were naked
Their shame and sorrow great
God banished them from Eden
And promptly locked the gate

So, after writing the first draft, I decided to change it "A" little. Here's the story with "A" few changes. Nor sure if I prefer A or B. Or both???  But A is for Apple...

A serpent in a garden
A tale to fabricate
A taste of the forbidden
A sinful woman ate
A now peculiar feeling
A knowledgable state 
Adamant about sharing
A mate participates
A sense that they were naked
A shame and sorrow great
A banishment from Eden
A God who locked the gate

adamant, fabricate, perculiar

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

three small words

won't you say it
and then say it like you mean it
and move your hand away
i don't want you to screen it
in front of witnesses
so others say they've seen it
baby say it
say those three small words
to me

won't you say it
make it pleasing to my pallate
hey, no pressure
i don't want to use a mallet
choose your own words
let's not take this to a ballot
baby say it
say those three small words
to me

don't buy a card
and tell me Hallmark says it better
don't put your feelings
in a long well-worded letter
don't buy me underwear,
or flowers or a sweater
baby say it
say those three small words
to me

you think by gesture
there's some way that i might know it
or maybe "date night"
is the modern way to show it
just say it simply
you don't have to be a poet
baby say it
say those three small words
to me

you vowed it once
but now i think that you might fear it
and if i hint
you just avoid and won't go near it
but i'm a woman
sometimes women need to hear it
won't you please...
please say those three small words
to me

(i love you)

Monday, April 4, 2011

Elaine's Limerick

There once was a girl called Elaine
Who found work a laborious pain
So she quit her day job
To become a couch slob
And write limericks, that rhyme with her name

( 50% fact 50% fiction)

Inside Out

Wind on glass
Rain on pane
Skies burst
Clouds drain

Head on glass
Rain on pain
Sorrow bursts
Feelings drain

It's a cycle

Sunday, April 3, 2011

My Bed is a Boat

My bed is boat
On which I float
To the land of Fast Asleep

Up high on the mast
My sails are cast
I will softly slumber deep

My eyes gently closed
I snooze, I doze
And nothing's as it seems

I steady the wheel
Keep an even keel
I'm the Captain of my dreams

To the hull I go
Quietly below
Rest a while, eight hours or more

Til at first daylight
As the sun shines bright
I arrive at Morning Shore

Posted for Monday's Child



It didn't come by email
Nor arrive via text
No UPS delivery
Or parcel from Fed Ex
This messenger was Cupid
His method bow and dart
With one quick shot he found me
And couriered your heart

Posted for Sunday Scribblings prompt: Messenger


Saturday, April 2, 2011



 (a punctuated divorce)

 A short sentence. Over before it even began.
Punctuated by long periods spent apart.
Abbr. courtship and marriage. A-post-rophe(y) wife.
With no children, at least there will be no tug-of-war
between grammar(s)
However, I don't feel sorry for her. I've heard there
is quite a lot of alimon(e)y. Although she will not
answer any questions directly, "I will still be in the
six figure tax (bracket)" she (the) ex-claims!
Don't "quote" me on this, but there are some rumours
that they've been seen dash-ing around together.
Hmmm...I wonder if it's true? We'll have to see.
But for now, it would appear that their relationship
is over. Comma, to a complete and full stop. Period(?)

Friday, April 1, 2011

Rhyme Time

Starting today
From now til May
To say the things
I want to say
I'll make some time
For thoughts sublime
And on a dime
Produce a rhyme

(maybe I will, maybe I won't)

In honour of NaPoWriMo