Days when
Words try to
Stay hidden
In the deep
Crevices
Of my mind
No one else
May enter
Unless invited
I attempt to
Pry them out
Giving voice
To the feelings
Held behind
The words
While knowing
That sharing
The positives
Will prove easier
Than sharing
The negatives
Days when
Words try to
Stay hidden
I am learning
And re-learning
To write them down
Inviting light
To gently restore
The fractures
While easing my fears
Tag: writing
Writing Circles
Sharing two poems today that I wrote in a recent poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw. If this is something you’ve considered participating in, check out her website. I continue to be amazed at the process and thankful for the connections. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
Hold the Door!
The same door
Same hallway
Same faces, mostly
Day in, day out
Oh, it’s a fine door
Bright hallway
Smiling faces, mostly
What would happen if I changed my entrance?
No, not a different door
Just held this door
For someone else
Walked that hallway
With intention
Bravely met all
Those faces
Not just with a smile
But with me
Whatever me happens
To show up that day-
Honest, unafraid
My heart open
Ready to receive
Ready to be received
Circles of Change
Thought I was walking
Down a new path
Confident change
Was preparing
To peak out from
Around the corner
At any minute
Any corner…
Any day now…
But it remained
Hidden-not ready
To show its face
Maybe I had been
Walking around
In a circle
Seems I am back
Where I started
Or perhaps
That magnetic
Starting line
Loosened its grip
Just a bit
Before gently
Pulling me back
Tugging at my heart
Allowing time to grasp
A new perspective-
After all, life’s
Biggest changes
Are often felt, not seen
Self-Check Lane
He bagged groceries most of his life. Found satisfaction in the routine.
It was like a new puzzle with each order. Everything had its place. Heavy cans were double bagged. Bread and eggs are always on top.
The smiles were nice, too. Most people seemed to appreciate the care taken with their chosen items. After all, these were the things intended to provide sustenance, and energy needed to fulfill their specific jobs.
Yes, their jobs may have been seen as more important than bagging groceries. That didn’t matter, not to him. He took pride in those bagged groceries.
Only one thing made him sad. That was the day the owner installed their first self-check lane…
Blog Anniversary!
Yesterday marked four years since my first Piano Girl blog post! I continue to be thankful for this WordPress family. I look forward to reading your words and continuing to find new connections.
A lot has happened in four years. Not the least of all, living through a pandemic. Times of sickness, death, isolation, masks, and vaccinations. Challenging does not begin to describe.
And yet, good things pushed their way through the muck. Extended time with family. New friends connecting across the miles thru zoom. Resilience tested and proven within so many. I even had my first book published!
No, those things do not erase current events distress from the wars in our world and gun violence in my country. They do, however, encourage me to cherish the connections I have, old and new. They remind me of the importance of loving, even when we disagree. They give me hope.
Here’s to year five! Prayers for peace. Actions with intention. Words to encourage. Stop by and say hello!
Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. I Peter 4:8
Poetry Circle Poems
She Said It
I know she said it
Without a doubt
Though I can’t
Pinpoint one
Specific instance
Wonder if that’s ‘cause I heard it so often?
I say it often enough
To my students
Said it to my kids
When they were little
Anyone feeling
A bit grumpy
Acting a bit
Out of sorts
Do you know what my grandma always said?
You can get glad in the same pants you got mad in.
Boy, do I wish
I could hear
Her say it
One more time
Pretty sure I need
To hear it
Or, at least, I needed
To hear it
Yesterday
Recipe for Success
Yes! You, too,
Can be successful
In just four easy steps
Study hard
Work hard
Work harder
Retire and travel
Is that really the recipe?
Seems a bit bland
If you ask me
True success
Is experienced only
In the minuscule
A tear lovingly wiped away
A raised eyebrow understood only by the one you love
The sweet laugh of a child
The final breath of a friend
And those are just
The starting points
Not four sentences
In a paragraph
But chapters
In the narrative of your life
I continue to enjoy the poetry circle process with Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. Such lovely connections, as well as surprises. I never know what will show up on the page. Or how the words of another will touch my heart.
Inner Voice
My brain hurts
Well, actually
I think it’s numb
Tired body
Tired heart
Words are
Bouncing
Around
In my head
Aim is off
Can’t seem
To find
Their way out
Maybe for the best
Probably wouldn’t
Sound the same
If I said them
Out loud
Perhaps writing
Them down
Would help…
Today, I…
Need to rest
Don’t want to listen
Don’t feel like engaging
Whew! Think I feel better!
After writing this poem, I had a revelation. If I feel this way some days, so do my students. And while I can put my feelings into words, that is not always easy for children.
Ok, so maybe this wasn’t a revelation, but it was a reminder. I need to be aware of facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice-mine and my students. Tempering my actions and reactions by keeping the clues close at heart. ❤️
Once Again
I see the notes
Gracefully strung
Across the staff
My hands
Gently fall
Onto the keys
Music drifts
Thru the air
Is this progression always the same?
So many things to consider
Things that may
Cause my eyes to fall
Leave my hands to drift
The music silenced
Tucked away
On its pages
Waiting patiently
For its turn
Once again
To speak
Drift thru the air
And keep me
From falling
I have been participating in writing circles with Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/ for almost two years now. Each experience reminds me that distance is not a determiner of meaningful connections. Ali provides a safe space for writing and sharing. Always with a reminder to send my critical voice to the other room.
I wrote the above poem in last night’s circle. ❤️
Hopeful
I wrote these two poems as part of an Instagram writing challenge. Thought I would share them here as well. ❤️
Rest
Hurry, hurry
Push, push
Full speed ahead
Barely time to breathe
Until suddenly
An uncontrollable
Full stop
Leading to a fall
Flat on my face
Flat on my back
Unable to move
Unable to think
Unable to connect-
Don’t move
Breathe
Breathe again
Slowly rise
Take a few steps
Sit down
And rest
Spark
One tiny match
Hesitation
Before striking
Be careful
Don’t burn your finger
One tiny spark
Share it quickly
Before it dies
Light a candle
It will light the next
From one hand
To another
Until light pushes
The darkness away
Dear Friends & Family
I continue to be amazed at the connections near and far created through blogging and am grateful for all who take the time to read and reflect. And I have a favor to ask. If you have not already, would you consider purchasing my first poetry collection, If I Were Made of Glass?
Friends, family, and my WordPress community, I am thankful for you! ❤️
Writing Circle
Sharing two poems I wrote in a recent poetry circle facilitated by Ali Grimshaw https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. I continued to be amazed at the beautiful connections made across many miles over computer screens. ❤️
At Seven
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
Do you find
The same
To be true?
Oh, there are
Glimpses
Flashes of
Childhood
Aided by
Photographs
The reciting
Of stories at
Family gatherings
I believe at seven
Happy outweighed sad
And freedom came
When swinging
To the sky
Then bravely
Jumping out
It is difficult
To remember
The me who
Once was seven
But I am grateful
For her spirit
Continuing
To reside in me
Even when
I’m afraid
To jump out
Of the swing
Tiny Boxes
Hours spent
Together
Make me want
To remember
Not just the present
But every visit past-
Each block of time
Long or short
Places another box
Inside my heart
Tiny boxes
Full of surprises
To open when
Days are long
Mind-wandering
Tiny boxes
Fighting battles
Threatening
To take away
Focus, purpose, joy
Tiny boxes
Filled with
Memories
Of loving and
Being loved
Piano Girl 