When Everything Unfinished is Ok May 2006

When everything unfinished is ok (if only for a moment) I stop what I’m doing and step outside to notice the splendor of spring I rejoice When the morning sun reaches under the cedars and the wind off the lake is calm the gentle, rich fragrance of violets hangs in the air I breathe deeply

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Merry Christmas Neighbor Dec 2003

  Merry Christmas to you my neighbor – the ones I know so well. A friendly hug now and then we stop and chat, catching up on health, family and neighborhood news. Or we drive by with a wave that says more than just hello. You know I care and we are there for each

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A Winter Blessing

  May the still, quiet beauty of the earth nourish your soul, fill your heart with love, and bless the world with peace.

There is a Holy Moment Dec. 2004

There is a holy moment between each restless urge. A quiet, waking moment on which the soul can splurge. It’s nothing you would fancy or grasp in eager clutch. Jewelry stores don’t carry it nor would a boutique’s hutch. It’s not in a meal that’s well prepared nor a drink so finely mixed. No mansion

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When Love Moves into the neighborhood

When love moves into the neighborhood a door to the heart is opened. The lonely child finds company. A rejected child receives affirmation. A tormented child is held firmly, gentled into safety. When love moves into the neighborhood help is but a door away. Leaves are raked. A drive way plowed. A sidewalk shoveled. A

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One Summer Afternoon

Wild sweet peas in shades of vibrant pinks mingle with tall grasses along the unmown roadway. A young snapping turtles dark green shelled body is visible inching across the road I pull over and move him along to the other side. Water, hills and sky of indigo, greens and forget-me-not blue mingle with the late

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Fulfillment Plus!

It was one of those beautifully warm fall days in late October. The glistening sun beaconed me to the window of my pottery studio to feel its warmth and admire the fluffy gray tinged clouds intermingling with bright blue sky. It was one of those days I describe as, “If I die I will already

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Flying Mice

When the sun kisses the trees and its getting harder to see  A strange thing begins  To happen to me   Something swoops past my ear And arouses some fear   Too fast for a bird At this time of night No flapping of wings Just a whoosh out of sight   The bats are

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The mother reached down

The mother reached down into the out stretched arms of the dark, curly haired little boy. So moved by the image, so universal in it’s scope, (was I in Korea, Iraq or Iran, Lebanon, Israel or Sudan?) I felt a lump well up in my throat. “Parents everywhere love their children, don’t they?” I said

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Summer Fullness

Sun shinning Rain falling Breeze blowing Neighbors visiting Children swimming Strangers walking Daisies rocketing Vines ripening Raspberries fruiting Fish fattening Frogs sunning Blue Heron hunting Mamma Duck quacking Squirrels snacking Dog, too tired, napping Nothing lacking