I’m All In


When you meet a stranger on a windswept hill

Something familiar about Him gives a thrill

of the joy when you sang a child’s lark

of fireplace and armchair when outside is dark,

And how He was connected to your first spark

of life.

~        ~        ~

Now I’m old and tired and I get scared

Not like the vague fears that used to be compared

Or the goosebumps teenagers laughing shared,

No, these fears have weight and are real,

Because I’ve lived them; I’ve discovered I’m not made of steel,

and I cried.

~        ~        ~

How wonderful to know that He’s my Lord still

While I wonder who I was; where I went and how did I kill,

That potential of faith I used to brag about,

I was going to serve, speak and take a walkabout,

I was going to bring other people home with a shout

of exquisite beauty.

~        ~        ~

Yet. No matter how I’ve let Him down,

Or how my happy bubble burst and left town,

I can’t count a lot of bobbles on my lightweight crown,

Still He loves me, I don’t how I’ve earned this basket He filled,

That one choice in Him was the right testament and will,

be the glow that redeems me.


Event- Wine and Words; June 2017


I had so much fun at our event last night, Wine and Words. I mustered the courage and read my stuff at the microphone three times! I even bought a glass of wine, but it’s wine which, even for Riesling and being sweet, I don’t like very much. I took a few sips though.

Anyway here in this photo you see some of my books laid out and some of our group’s literature. In the background (artistic, aren’t I?) you see the microphone.

I read two sections of my companion story to my book Roots Entwine, called, A Reason to Sing.

If you’d like to read the whole short story, you can find it here.


SPOILERS however, if you haven’t read my book Roots Entwine and you want to sometime soon. This story is related to an event which occurs late in that book and knowing it will make the ending of Roots Entwine less exciting.

Express Myself Again


Who would’ve ever supposed

That a person with so many words would feel so silenced

The message about Christ is so huge

It welled up like a tidal wave, two stories high

It receded down inside till it trickled from my eyes.

~       ~       ~


His beauty is still over the ride

His love holds on and makes me survive

His Word is true no matter how many deny

My faith was proved when He stood by my side

Love like His is realized.

~       ~       ~

See it in the soft baby’s eyes

Feel it in the firm brown wood

Taste clear water and be revitalized

Hear the song of blossoms rustling the trees

Smell the wind of His gentle good.

~       ~       ~

He’s here in sunlight falling on my face

He’s here in memory, present waiting and future grace

He’s here in passion, strength and nobility

He teaches, guards, comforts and bids me see

Sweetness of Heaven in my future.







The Nighttime Guard


We like children with natures fierce

Argue with shadows drawing close

On the left the raging weapons are drawn

The right watches it all unfold.

~       ~       ~

There’s a pattern in the latticework

Some of the windows open hoping for breeze

In this cement world there’s still beauty

Despite the political squeeze.

~       ~       ~

Though the tree has bars around it

Parents of God-written rules are all inside

Even though there’s no grass to romp in

The children play while daylight abides.

Fantasy Howls With Silence


I’m pleased to announce that my latest story is about to be completely released. (The print version is available now on Amazon, and the kindle version is being processed.)

When I wrote this story my dear son was still with me, but his condition was very hard to live with at home. People yelled and cried used bad language and fussed, and I tried to manage all the emotional undercurrents. My words couldn’t solve.

Perhaps that’s why I wrote this fantasy about a young woman who’d lost her voice but painted thought pictures. I paint fantasy worlds that are pretty but filmy, my temporary escape. In order to somehow give those that I love so fiercely a happy ending I give my characters a glowing future after their struggles are done in my dreams.

You’ll have to read the book to find out if my main character, Zephyr, finds her voice again at the end. I didn’t know if she would, myself, until I wrote practically the last chapter. Here’s the link for the print version. If you need a kindle copy, I can help you get that when it comes out if you leave a message in the comments.



One Small Umbrella


One small umbrella, the husband has to hold.

The streets are floods of water, the sky is gray and cold.

With this he must protect her dress, her person and her face.

Her dainty feet must endure the wet, but surely she’ll keep her lace;

Dry, and what of him, but he has an overcoat.

Now if he just had a carriage, a puppet’s tent or boat.

~              ~                ~

Or maybe the umbrella is just for her.

The reddish fabric matches her skirt.

Either way, though fussiness crinkles his eyes,

Though serving his wife occurred a thousand times.

Still he’s brave to attack the wind and rainy fall,

And use as his only weapon, a nearly-opened parasol.


Trouble and Release


2 Chronicles 32~ (I like these verses best in the King James Version)

Be strong and courageous, be not afraid nor dismayed for the king of Assyria, nor for all the multitude that is with him: for there be more with us than with him:

With him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight our battles. And the people rested themselves upon the words of Hezekiah king of Judah.

~       ~       ~

Jesus, my strong vine.

Hold me tight.

God my dear Father,

Never out of Your sight.

Sweet Spirit Divine,

I’m thankful You’re mine.

~       ~       ~

There’s trials around and winds that pound

And actions underneath we can’t see.

There’s other people’s eyes and pressures and sighs

Til You say, ‘Don’t forget Me’.

~       ~       ~

With a friend like my Love, I won’t be afraid.

Now matter what uncouth stinks parade like grenades.

My strength is innocence, my Father stands behind me.

I’m weak and small, but He loves endlessly.

~       ~       ~

Psalms 139

Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
12 Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You.

The Wind Teaching Us About God


God is like the wind;

You can’t see the wind but it covers the world.

Everywhere and all at once,

You don’t know where its course ends up,

Or what its nudging.

~       ~       ~

Sometimes its so powerful it could;

Pick you up and sweep you away.

Other times its so still,

You wouldn’t know its there,

Except for the breath of life in your lungs.


Teddie Bear Give Way, to Santiago!

I know I should be focusing on my current story, which is Teddie Bear in Non-space, but this old story about Santiago keeps coming to my mind. I was stuck in this old story so it’s nice to find my flow again. Here’s a snippet of what I just wrote.


“Those look like tights,” Jacoby grumbled.Bearnosemap

“They’re not actually tights,” T-Pete replied. “They’re more like aeriated panted hosiery.”

“I’m not wearing tights,” Jacoby repeated.

“Well,” the designer said, “there are also the leather leggings or even the tight leather pant option, but I didn’t bring those up because they’re more expensive.’

Jacoby ignored the man and narrowed his eyes at his cousin; family or not his patience was running thin.

“Maybe not the leather pants either,” T-Pete said in a hurry.

“Ah, of course, then may I suggest the platinum option, as it were.” The designer rubbed his hands in pleasure. “The last possibility is the poly-urethane-compressed-foam material that I produce myself. It has an over layer of vinyl and an under layer with just a hint of Kevlar. Of course it can get a bit warm at the height of summer and some say a bit itchy in the uh… crevasses, but…”

“I’m outta here,” Jacoby said. He turned to make a quick exit.

“Wait!” the other two people in the room trumpeted. Jacoby glanced backwards and the designer sighed.

“If you insist the pants can be made out of dark brown linen, black jean or charcoal gray vinylette,” the man finally admitted.

“Pants, not hose,” Jacoby reiterated. “No tights, no leather and I don’t need to be bullet proof.”

“If you want to be dull,” the designer muttered.

Hand Held Out

U2 has Christians in the group. Not every song proves it, but this one is emphatic and sung with Bono’s passion. Many times since I first heard it back in the 80’s has this song come back to me.

I hear Jesus’ passion in it. I feel his lean hand in mine. I know He’s telling me, like he does all of his own, to hold on.

Hold on Tightly.