Showing posts from May, 2013


Six o’clock sounds say ‘hurry home’ in the rush and whoosh of tires sliding through the rain soaked street. The tick, click, tick of the clock confirms the dinner hour while a bird through the window with his “cheerup, cheerup, cheer!” reminds any and all listeners that evening is approaching.

The electronic hmmzzzzzzzz…. of the flat screen TV insists I pay attention to the 6 o’clock news; but I resist the tell and welcome instead better clocks with softer sounds— the message bird calling, the rainy streets telling me day is done and the slow, drowsy way I pen these  words at the close of day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~                                                This poem was in response to a prompt from the book ‘God in the Yard’
Chapter 9—Poetry:Silence, by LL Barkat, where the author encouraged us  to sit and listen, then record what we hear in a poem.  I highly recommend the book.

Linking with dVerse Pub for Open Link Night 98. More wonderful words over there.

Pressed into Joy

Golden oil in 
a bottle

liquid light
refracting sun in shimmers

a mirrored shape 
reflects on the surface

and I wonder at the
drop, drop, drops

of light as they
drip, drip, drip

All this tasting
joyfulness because
something was crushed
and pressed,
leaving light.
Sharing with dVerse Pub for Open Link Night 97.


the lights have left the leaves, golden brilliance turned out like a  glowing candle quieted by the wind.
the leaves float and rustle voices, too, carried by the breeze to this place atop a hill-- the slant a receptacle for sound forcing it upwards  to my ears. I'm hidden-- He's not. I hear Him. He's here.
linking with dVerse Pub for Open Link Night 95. Join us?