poetry

Lord, I see no fruit. The harsh wind scrapes Through my barren branches, And my leaves have long been withered, Leaving life and joy behind. In vain, the pale sun strives To warm

I'm a blue jeans kinda girl Not the bull ridin’, dust flyin’ rodeo, But the small town is my hometown, room to grow. I’m a ponytail every day kinda girl Not the

I cannot remember when I first loved The budding, blushing rose—the face of you. From the moment we met, my spirit moved Because God knew life is better with two. Do you

In Heaven, the angels gathered In numbers too great to count To watch a lonely figure Walking to the throne of God. He held his head stiffly high; His eyes shone in defiance;

I take long walks beneath the gently sprawling limbs of trees I did not plant myself, arm-in-arm with friends I did not plan to find, and know, and love. In between planning what

There are two birds That always fly together In the sky, Singing, laughing, and sharing life. We were they. Until one day You fell away. Left alone, I began to regret All the

Who can blame the rain’s refreshment or the heat of the rising sun? For the flowers bloom and beauty comes— Who can blame the dance’s disruption or the loss of tip-toe

I drove by the house where I used to live and looked at the red door my mother painted, bleeding through the blistered, peeling white the new people used. I stopped the car

Years ago, when Earth was young, Warm was the air and bright the sun, White Unicorns stood as guardians Of the world’s bright thoughts and dreams. With them lived a man named

The earth trembled. The sky blackened. “Defeat,” demons whispered. He— The Son of God, The Light of Man— Gone out. Satan’s laughter Echoes under Jerusalem’s streets. God’s wrath rumbles in

Dedicated to Deandre Gladden We lost him on a southern spring day. The birdsong ringing melodies in our ears, sunjoy rays accompanied by new air, flowers opened and shouted, “I’m here!” But

Silly moon. Did you think that you could fool Those of us that know the sun? Your path across its countenance Lasts only for a moment. Silly moon. Your feeble efforts can’t

What hell can you wreck upon lone me? My King and Queen have retreated, And I am my own worst enemy. Fiery stakes consume the clergy Who told me forgiveness was dead. What

I started it one golden day When I dropped the match on the bridge. Picked it up—too late— As wildfire spread through the cables. My heart watered an apology, Cooling cherry-stained metal

Each day I fight because I am alive. You cannot fight, if dead—you cannot see the gleaming beetle’s silky wings display the quiet beauty of each transparent cell, crafted like the

In the silence of a gallery where colors dance and gleam, where each stroke has meaning, where reality clashes with a dream, I see emotions displayed in frames much like my own. I

We bear bundles of joy and suffer As you count our flesh and bone as worthless, Muffling our wailing ’cause it’s a bother. With hearts of sponge we soak up your stress,

Listen. Hose, hats, heels click along cement sidewalks–– The city echoes with the punctuated remark. Or is that the harmony of guns cocked in war? Germany desires to settle its score. Keys clack

God said He sees the Sparrow fall— And cares for us as well— But why would He let the Sparrow fall If He cared that the Sparrow fell? If God really saw the

You know, sister, these rooms are all haunted, Big Brother slyly said to me one day. Yes, silly, of course the ghost is dead! But he still wanders this place anyway. At night,