a poem in my pocket

I’m happy to accept this blogger recognition!  I thank my blogger friend, Camie, for nominating me for this award. You should check out her fun travel, homeschool, mothering blog at: https://camiescozycorner.wordpress.com

I began blogging in May 2012 after following a friend’s blog about her family’s adoption journey.   I had recently taken an online college poetry course which renewed my interest in writing poems.  So a “poem in my pocket” was born.

My advice for new bloggers?  Ignore the stats and write from the heart!  Share your own unique point of view.  If you want to make friends and gain readers, visit other blogs and/or online communities and leave comments. Every writer likes encouraging feedback so give it.

I would like to nominate a few of my favorite bloggers for this award:

Jess Van Roekel, devotional writer with a beautiful heart blogging grace:  http://welcomegrace.com

Elsie, aka “kiwinana”, hosts interesting tanka and other writing prompts:  https://ramblingsofawriter2016.com

Robyn Mulder, focuses on life and faith every Friday:  http://robynmulder.blogspot.com

Emily Gibson, physician and photographer extraordinaire:  https://briarcroft.wordpress.com

If any of you choose to participate, here are the guidelines:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide link to their blog.

2. Write a post to show your award.

3. Give a brief story how your blog started.

4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers.

5. Select (up to 15) other bloggers for this award.

6. Comment on each blog to let them know you nominated them and provide link to to the post you created.

learning war and peace

grandchildren fight over toy

everyone wants it

let’s all remember to share

isolate till passions cool

re-enactment of Waterloo from wikicommons 

Joining Elsie at Ramblings of a Writer for weekly tanka challenge, War & Peace.

American (death) sentences in 17 syllables…

People will do nearly anything to avoid sitting still to think.

Don’t expect excess love;  most live desperate, separate and alone.

Seems our differences are reasons to hate rather than celebrate.

Work seen as important, not words; what value prayer or poetry?

If i feel like a caged bird…when i die, will i be freed from this cage?

We are broken beyond our repairing;  who can save us from ourselves?

strong puritan oak

in modesty clings to garb

until spring leaves bud

In the back bedroom of a hospitable home

on sprawling shaded lot in Magnolia, Texas,

lies an adult little girl; disabled but beloved,

dear daughter and sweet sister named Kim.

She’s a redhead, age 52, curled in bed, mute;

a child of God, reflecting his image; like Him,

her eyes always seeing (open even in sleep)

and her ears always hearing (primary sense).

What a privilege to meet Kim, touch her hand

as she rests in sanctuary of clean sheets and

sunny windows; surrounded by hum of vital

equipment, carried gently by sacrificial love.

Holy ministry happens here on a daily basis,

offered by her mother, who dedicates all her

nursing skills, the tenderest days of her life to

care for, love on, feed, turn, and talk to Kimmy.

Dedicated to Kim Feenstra, who lives with her precious family (and a condition called micro-encephalitis).