Inspirational! Reblogged to darlenescorner.wordpress.com.
When troubles come and disaster looms
When we are tossed like flotsam
on a stormy sea dragged
d
o
w
n
by whirlpools
of
worry
and
fear
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Category Archives: Uncategorized
Love in ten sentences
Thank you Passion through Poetry for the invitation to the Poetry Challenge, Love in ten sentences. The poem has ten lines of four words, each containing the word Love. I am to nominate ten people to take the challenge. Here is the poem.
Love in Ten Sentences
God loves all people
He gives us love
He sent His love
so we could love
“Love your neighbor
as you love yourself”
not with weak love
but love in truth
Love casts out fear
For Jesus is Love
The ten people I will nominate are:
Making it write
Memee’s Musings
fitlyspoken
Meredith’s Musings
Christian Poetry-by deborah ann
Send Sunshine
Me – Who am I
The Ninth Life
nutsrock
Estelea’s blog
Happy International Women’s Day
As I read this, I thought about women in my life that I admired. Of all of them, I must put my own mother and her mother at the forefront. They were women of faith who gave themselves, not as servants just to be used, but in the true spirit of love. They both taught me about strength and working with another human being. Neither my mother nor my grandmother did things the world may have considered important, but they taught others what it meant to love. I especially remember my mother’s strength in her relationship with my father. I hope that when I am no longer in this life, I will be remembered by those whose lives I touched that I was strong and loving, teaching others how to be the same.
Apparently today is International Women’s Day. I was not aware of this until I read a couple of comments on my blog and some Facebook posts. Although I am not a crazy feminist, I see the point of a day on which we think about what a woman is, what a woman should be. The rights a woman should have and all those doors that should be open for women all over the world.
Today there are too many women still living in the shadows of men. Too many are being mistreated or not taken seriously. There are too many women, who don’t have any rights. Too many women, who get abused. There are too many women who fear to stand up for who they are or what they believe in.
In the spirit of the International Women’s Day, please do me a favor and check out this amazing article
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WOW!
This is so fantastic. Wow is the word for it! I am reblogging it to darlenescorner.wordpress.com
I found a link to a video about a man who, for 25 years, has been digging beautiful caves in sandstone hills. Although the creator of these monumental works of art didn’t mention the word ‘love’, I am sure that love is what drives him – it certainly isn’t money, as he only charges $12 an hour.
The images of these caves filled me with wonder, and with love, and that is why I have chosen it as this months post for Lisa’s One Word Challenge.
It must be an a moving and unforgettable experience to stand in one of his monumental, sculptured constructions.
Nothing more needs to be said, as the caverns and walls speak for themselves.
To the Mom or Dad Who Told Their Child Not to Stare at Mine – by Beth Hersom
Thank you for educating people. I am reblogging this to darlenescorner.wordpress.com
Dear Moms and Dads,
I want to talk about something uncomfortable. It’s come to my attention that many of the best among you are making a big mistake. I understand. I was too, two years ago.
My daughter has a rare genetic syndrome called Apert syndrome. When she was a baby, the plates in her skull fused together. That meant there was no room for her brain to grow, and she needed surgery right away to relieve pressure. Her head is larger than average. When she was born, her fingers and toes were fused together. She’s had the first surgery to separate her fingers, so now her thumb and pinkie are released. She has a tracheotomy, so she cannot talk yet. Because of various complications, she’s spent a significant portion of her young life in the hospital. She’s developing muscles she needs to sit up on her own and to…
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Writing 201 poetry challenge 2015/2/25
Day 8, Writing 201
Prompt: drawer; form: ode; device: apostrophe
WORDS
You flow from pen to page,
from the drawer of my mind
to better someone’s day.
You give a wondrous wage
when flowing in sweet lines.
You bring the sunshine’s rays.
Mean girls cyberbully adults on social media
What are we teaching young people when they see awful posts on Facebook and other social media?
Just saw some more mean girl menopausal women gang up and attack another woman on her wall. What is it with Facebook that makes grown women act like they are seventeen year olds still in high school? Are they living out their teen fantasies by doing this stuff? Some of the language is so foul and some of the things that are said could never be repeated in any decent society. Call me naive but I just don’t get what they get out of it. You would think by the time you are an adult you would know better.
Often times these same cyberbullies are the ones that would run and hide in real life. The keyboard makes them brave. They say whatever pops into their heads accusing others of all kinds of vile deeds. Why in the world if you think someone is doing something illegal you wouldn’t go…
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Writing 201: Poetry Challenge: Animal, concrete, enjambent
The Poetry challenge: Prompt: animal; form: concrete; device: enjambment. My prompt is a cat; in concrete, I tried to do the poetry in the form of a cat; in enjambment, each line ends with a /, meaning the sentence goes onto the next line. Hope you enjoy it.
He’s
m a s t e r
of the house or so
he thinks, demanding
what he wants for you to do./
He'll tell the message so you
will not miss/ his wish. His
staring eyes will pierce
you through./ So regal
in his stature as he sits/
before you thinking you will read
his mind./ Sometimes his eyes will
close while sitting straight,/ but still his
body sits in perfect line./ Just put an empty
box where he can see/ perhaps a bowl that
he can fit into./ He can’t resist; he’ll squeeze
his body in./ Even an empty tissue box might do./
No dirty fur for this four-legged one./His tongue is
busy cleaning up his fur./ (Can you imagine bathing
just like this?)/ But cleanliness is part of his
allure./ And yet when one has grabbed your
heart,/ you're his. He cuddles near with a
purr,/ demanding that you pet him. Slave concurs,/
not just with loving hands, but says, "Yes, sir."
Day 1: Water, Haiku, Simile
Here is my poem for Writing 201: Poetry–water, haiku, simili
Waterfall’s cascade
quiet now in winter’s freeze
like a glass mountain
FINISH IT
Author S B Mazing is having a blog event! Join us! She is posting the beginning of a story. Go to her blog and finish the story! She has the instructions there.
She carefully opened the door, not sure what to expect. It had been a while since she has visited. Nothing was the way she remembered and when her eyes finally got adjusted to the dark, what she saw made her shiver.
All her remembrances of the past had been removed, as if she had never been there. Pictures, books, memory items–all gone. Instead, the room had been redecorated into a nursery. She slumped to the floor.
Her brother had invited her to come home; she was anxious to see the room that she had shared with her little sister before–she swallowed hard as tears welled up in her eyes–before the accident took her from them. She had been so young. It was so long ago, but yet like yesterday.
“I’m sorry, Sis.” Her brother’s voice invaded her thoughts. “But it was time to move on. And we needed the room.”
She struggled to her feet and glared at her brother. “How could you?” she sobbed. “It was our room! Have you forgotten her?”
Her brother shook his head. “I loved her, too. But she wouldn’t want us to go on like this,” he whispered. “We’re naming your new niece after her.”
Her sister-in-law stepped next to her husband. “Please don’t be angry. Join with us in our joy. Our little sister would have loved this.”
She pushed past them, angry. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you–I don’t know when.” And she rushed out of the house.
As the weeks passed, she found herself staring at babies and children everywhere she went. She reflected on what the room had become. A nursery. For her brother’s first child. How he and his wife had agonized for a child, even before their little sister had been killed by the drunk driver. Thoughts of the new baby began to crowd out and dissolve her anger. She grudgingly admitted that she would love having a new baby in the family, that it would be neat to hold her and be part of her life.
She took out the picture of her sister and her that she carried in her wallet. Tears welled in her eyes. “Little sister,” she said, “I miss you. But you will have a namesake. And I will be part of her life, just as I was yours. I can’t be angry anymore.”
A smile crept onto her face. She took a deep breath and went to the phone, still carrying the picture. It was time to go home and visit her family. She dialed the number and waited for her brother’s voice.
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