THIS WEEK'S QUOTE PROMPT:

My biggest excuse to others and myself was that I had writer's block, as if it was some kind of illness. Mary Garden

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

#35 - He enjoys much who is thankful for little. Thomas Secker

MY SIMPLE PRAYER

This day of thanks is more than food
or football through the night.
It brings a candle’s fiery glow
with overwhelming light.

No other day within the year
has absolute control
to reach within my darkest place
and brighten up my soul.

And so, as I begin to plan
for every, honored guest,
I come to You, on bended knee,
this time with no request.

I simply want to give my thanks
for blessings You impart:
the love of family, friends and home,
that overflows my heart.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

#34 - When your friends begin to flatter you on how young you look, it's a sure sign you're getting old. Mark Twain

THROUGH OLDER EYES

With my younger days behind me,
I am well passed middle age.
On the journey to tomorrow,
I am closer to the stage
where the newness of the springtime
has evolved into this truth:
Though the winter chill engulfs me,
I prefer it to my youth.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

#33 - My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary. Martin Luther

THE MUSIC HEALS

A gentle strain from life’s refrain
illuminates the dark.
And music speaks to embers weak,
rekindling the spark
in my mundane, sometimes insane,
existence here on earth.
A blackened day brought deep dismay
and scorned the moment’s mirth.
And yet, the song that hums along
to reach within my heart,
knows how to reach across the breach
to fix what fell apart.
The music swells in empty wells,
my apathy destroyed.
I join the dance of song’s romance,
renewed in honest joy.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

#32 - The poetry of earth is never dead. John Keats

OF CONSTANT BEAUTY

The glory of nature overwhelms me.
Mountains rise through the skies
flecked with the vibrant hues of autumn,
colors warm, bold and inviting.
And peaking between them,
a line of steadfast green,
the pine tree's response
to the ongoing changes around it.

The seasons never die.
They merely go into hiding.

After the forest sheds it cloak,
it withdraws into itself,
to rest and renew,
until the time comes again to
bring forth new buds and new colors.

Waiting for every transformation
rewards and comforts those who watch.
Nature's evolution reminds us that beauty
is not limited only to what can be seen,
but to what thrives in the silence within.