Wait

"Friends, both the imaginary ones you build for yourself out of phrases taken from a living writer, or real ones from college, and relatives, despite all the waste of ceremony and fakery and the fact that out of an hour of conversation you may have only five minutes in which the old entente reappears, are the only real means for foreign ideas to enter your brain. "– Nicholas Baker

“Wait,” he said, stopping her right as she began to walk away.  Her blood heated, as warm as the night summer air and she circled back around to see what he wanted.  When she faced him, he kissed her long and hard and then said, “That’s all.”


Despite herself, she smiled, now slowly turning from him once again, the butterflies commencing their familiar dance within her stomach.  Without realizing it, her hand traveled to her abdomen as though she could calm the chaos.  She strode deliberately, not looking back, but feeling his eyes on her and she didn’t know how long she could endure these exits.


Later, she heard his voice as she lay in bed.  The way he’d drawled the word, ‘wait’.  The grin in his voice,but, too, the assurance.  He knew that she would,  knew that she’d stop, that she’d turn, that she was his. 


And though she was, wasn’t that what this whole absence was about?  Making him wonder, think perhaps she was her own first? But her melting betrayed her resolve when she saw him and his strong embrace brought her heart to its knees and she knew she had lost.

Source: mybodypeaceofmind.tumblr.com via Nicole on Pinterest

submitting at Write on Wednesday

Please

Dear God,
Do you see? 
That they have a part of me?
That they’ve stolen, lied and cheated?
That I’m down here on my knees,
begging for restoration,
                   renewal, You to hear.
I’m alone, and I’m scared. 
        And I’m waiting. 
For mercy, for grace, though they’re already mine.
Make me
know,
see,
believe.
Dear God,
Please.

Swing

Source: thishopelessromantic.tumblr.com via Nicole on Pinterest

A swing in winter,
snow covering its red seat, untouched
means play resumes in summer.






submission at dverse

Small

I am so small,
standing here before You. 
                               You, eternal.
                               You, King of all Kings.
                               You, creator of the Heavens and the Earth and, before you, I stand,          
stunted and in awe. 
The ocean, glorious, endless as you, laps and I stare. 
The trees tower,
      telling me stories from long ago.
                          I gasp, breathless at the beauty. 
                          I embrace my smallness, for before You, I am safe. 
                                                                             You encompass me with a love that extends beyond all stars, beyond all galaxies and I look as far as I can see, knowing I will never see it all. 
The sand,
You know its count, the amount of grains, so yes, too, then also the number of hairs on my head. 
         And I come back to this belief, when I grab for control, think myself in charge.
                                        How?
I am small. 
You, vast as the sea, grander than the tallest tree.
       It’s all from You.
      It’s all for You.




submitting at inkpaperpen

Rise

I can not die, I’m made of stone.
So, cry a river, Eyes.  I will not drown.
Break, Heart, into a million pieces and my breath won’t cease.
I’m stronger than you know.
Ears, listen to the truth,
taste the lies, spit them out…
and rise.


submission for magpie tales

Book Excerpt–suggestions welcome. :)

After Marcy begrudgingly took their orders Keith asked, “What was that last thing you said?” Oh, yeah. My story. Hmm. It’s really not that interesting. You go first.”
Jess snorted. “I guarantee, yours is more interesting than mine. I’m just a small town girl. Born and raised here. I work at the book store, I’m in school… yeah, that’s about it.”


Keith looked at her, analyzing, for a moment before responding. “I’m sure that’s not it. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”


He sipped his coffee and went on, “Me. Let’s see. I was raised in a small town, too. Not quite this small but still small. And I like small towns. I really do, but I needed a change from the one I was in. A change of scenery. Change of people, maybe.”
His eyes gave Jess the impression that this was a new reflection he was revealing.
“I think I’m going to like it here. Especially if everyone’s as nice as you…” Keith trailed off, giving Jess the chance to respond.


Even though she found that last statement sort-of a creepy, she understood that it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe Keith wasn’t quite as smooth as he first appeared. Jess bit her lower lip and looked down slightly. What was she supposed to say? “They’re all pretty nice. Good people. You know. But then again I don’t have anyone to compare them with”.


Keith laughed as though he understood. They chitchatted through his meal and her dessert, relaxed by the time Marcy put the check down. Keith snatched for it. Jess reached down for her purse but Keith said, “I got it,” she complied. It was just a piece of pie and maybe this was a date. She felt unfamiliarly, risky and elated, like she was about to board a roller coaster and she was up for the ride.

I hope you know it’s true

Mister Boy,
              You’re mad right now and the tears
fall down your face.

Lovely Boy,

   You’re sad again and the fears
forget His grace.

You believe you’re misunderstood.
Oh, I would comfort you if I could.

But you turn away,
within your bad day
and I don’t know what to say.

Except, ‘I love you’
and,”I’m here.’
and I hope you know it’s true.
That I do and I am, whenever you are blue.

submitting at Jingle Poetry and The Poetry Palace

Our Funeral

I walk
  with all but I want to
fly away.  Escape the rain, the same, the progression we are on.

                 The long journey toward our funeral where no one cries but me.

submitting at Bluebell Books