Creative Bloomings Palindrome

Fun Moments

Laughter

Grins, giggles, guffaws

Bubbly, infectious

Rolling, delighting, shaking

Hiccups, titters, smiles

Friends enjoying friends

Smiles, titters, hiccups

Shaking, delighting, rolling

Infectious, bubbly

Guffaws, giggles, grins

Laughter 

wha #3

The Call to Write

What burns within my soul so deep?

A glowing coal set to ignite

The Spirit fans with Holy breath

The call to write, the call to write

His love’s conveyed in many forms

Sweet comfort in the darkest night

A Holy message stemming from

The call to write, the call to write

A time of prayer, a secret place

A rendezvous that does excite

An opening to meet with God

The call to write, the call to write

Creative Bloomings little things

A Pebble

I keep a pebble in my purse

Inspiring me to write

For it’s the mundane things of life

That parallel our plight

A pebble’s often overlooked

It takes a special mind

To see the beauty in the small

To seek gold and to find

I keep a pebble in my purse

I know it may sound strange

But there it is reminding me

When I go look for change

To see the trivial and bland

With fresh and skillful eye

And sprinkled with incredulity

To spark a grand insight

I keep a pebble in my purse

With it I can relate

For it’s the teeny tiny things

That just may turn our fate

WHA #2

Conduit

Writing’s part of who I am

Same as thoughts and dreams

What I feel and what I sense

My ambitions and schemes

Writing’s part of who God is

It’s His special gift

To explore His love and grace

I won’t go adrift

He expresses who He is

I’m a conduit

Telling people His good news

Reasons to commit

After I am dead and gone

Manuscripts will stay

Hopefully they’ll help someone

Find the Only Way

WHA #1

A Call to Write

I’ve been writing thirty plus years.

When did I first get the call?

Or was it just a niggling desire.

Did it start with my love for reading?

Dad sitting me on his knee

reading in his monotone voice

about the woodpecker and the telephone pole?

Was it when Mom would allow me

to put Two Little Golden books

in the grocery cart each week?

Was it in fifth grade when I picked up paper

and pencil to write my first novel,

which sounded a lot like Trixie Belden.

Was it when I took my first writer’s course?

Attended my first writer’s conference?

Was it the first time I got an acceptance

for a fiction story?

When I published my first devotion?

When I got a regular monthly assignment

with a national ministry?

When I made the decision to self publish?

All that I know is I desire to worship

and serve Him in everything I do.

Writing is one of them.

I long for others to know His love

and I aim to explore that love

through poetry, devotions,

articles, fiction, and children’s writing.

So was it a call to write

 or was it just God accepting and using

what I offer to Him

with an outstretched hand?

pentameter

Something New

Something fresh, new, exciting in the air

Makes me shiver with anticipation

The fresh lilac scents, the birds’ chirps and trills

Branches budding green, tulips flaring red

Rain on my back, my head, my face, my tongue

Gentle breezes waving and whispering

Spring like a sigh after a tense moment

Gives us reason for great celebration

But beyond that, it comes with promises

Of travel, exploring, activity

Learning, adventure, meeting new people

Our souls dipped in invigorating fun

Poetic Asides Announcement

What Works

I remember why I don’t write all day.

I work myself into a stupor.

I turn into a lazy lunk.

I just want to sit and eat,

let everything else slide.

Some writers can sit.

I need to mix

feet-work with

seat work.

Now!