As the gentle rain caresses and nourishes
Tender fibers of Spring’s virgin seed,
So his love bathes my heart, my soul,
Saturating every pore, sating every need.

Love’s tender shoots burst with frenzied fervor,
Heeding not ethereal time.
Fibril scions strengthen as trust imbues
Affirming refuge from variable clime.

But a vile world’s hate will blow hard and cold
A thunderstorm of prejudice, jealousy, and pride.
Fierce thunder will threaten; brash lightning will flash,
But true love will endure Life’s inevitable chide.

Source of Inspiration for Weathered Love
I beg the readers indulgence with yet another poem about love.  But what better words to paint the Colours of the Heart?  After 33 years of marriage, I know the passion and pain of love.  I know the rarity, strength, and power of true love.  And I know that true love is worth all the time and fortitude it takes to safeguard the health of such a gifted relationship.  Never take love for granted!
Weathered Love was published in Colours Of The Heart, Noble House, London, 2004.

Age is a factor we acknowledge each year.
We face it with dread, or embrace it with cheer.
We add a one to the year just past,
Pausing in wonder how it went so fast!

The date when first we entered this world,
And life, like a rose, the petals uncurled.
A young bud, closed, tight and strong,
Danced with the wind to the moon’s love songs.

With warmth and love, the petals unfold
Revealing a palette of colors so bold,
Red and yellow, green and blue,
Each color special in the spectrum of hues.

Along comes Life with pests and storms,
But love from the Sun sustains and warms.
A thirst for knowledge of the world around,
Petals open wide to the gifts that abound.

Life, like a rose is more beautiful each day.
Ponder this point as you greet the day.
Face the Wind, Dance in the Sun,
Smell the Rose, and Thank the One.

Source of Inspiration for Birth Days
In celebration of my brother’s birthday, I wrote this poem for his birthday card. We should always celebrate birthdays and the gift of life!
Birth Days was published in the book The Best Poems and Poets of 2002, and was recorded for audio tapes and is in the National Library of Poetry.

A Mother’s heart
Broken by pain,
The ache so intense
It’d drive you insane.
A hole in her heart,
A scar left by death.
Despair, such despair
Chokes every breath.
An angel, a gift
Once safe in her arms
Cradled by love
Warding off harms.
One fleeting moment
Just a turn of the head
In rushes danger,
The devil’s soul fed.
Stunned by the sting,
Blank stare of disbelief
Anguish, then anger.
Blind rage, bitter grief!

Alas, a whisper
Warmed the cold wind.
Peace o’er took pain,
A message He’s send.
“The devil’s web
Of disease and deceit
Lays hold of sweet souls
In a faltering heart beat.
But he’ll not have this one!
In My arms she rests,
Safe and secure,
Nestled to My breast.
Young Mother, dear Child,
My Heart’s broken, too.
The devil’s evil scheme
Changed My blueprint, too.
But know I am with you
My strength will abide
I’ll blanket you in peace
Your pain will subside”

Source of Inspiration for A Mother’s Heart
Just before moving back to Texas, some dear friends of ours called with news of the death of their three year old daughter to Ries Syndrome.  I was utterly devastated!  As a writer, my way of releasing anger and pain was through words.  So I sat down to write these words.  However, I couldn’t finish it until several months later.  It was just too painful.
A Mother’s Heart was published in The Best Poems and Poets of 2001.

Some call him “Grumpy”
Some say he’s mean.
Some even run at the sound of his name.
Some shutter, others cower.
Still others say he’s sour.
Jealous words and the price of his fame.

Yet they’ve awarded him.
Some have courted him
To coach for their teams.
Big money, more power,
Prestige, greater fame.
Success of which everyone dreams.

Why does he stay?
Why won’t he go?
Why does he tolerate
Small minds, jealous foe?
Why does he keep on day after day
Challenging our children in his own special way?

Look past the frown.
Look ‘neath the skin.
Go deeper – yes, deeper
To his heart deep within.
There beats a life force full of love and concern
For his kids whose lives he quietly discerns.

When high school is over
His kids must go on.
College is the answer
So he gets on that phone.
Hours and hours, all day and all night,
He finds them a college that for them is just right.

Few thank him.
Few laud him.
So few are aware
Of his unspoken ministry and how much he cares.
These great kids, the legacy he gives to the world
Future leaders, his kids, and God’s special pearls.

Source of Inspiration for The Unspoken Ministry
My son’s football coach was inducted into the High School Football Hall of Fame for his dedication to the sport and his record of wins.  But his underlying message went unnoticed until I wrote this poem for him on the occasion of his 50th birthday.  The people who knew him the best, his family and close friends, cried when they read the poem because they knew what Coach did was for his kids, not for the glory of the win.  Time and again, colleges would offer him more money and prestige to coach college football, but his place was at the high school level helping his kids get scholarships playing football to pay for the college education that many of them would not get if he didn’t help them.  When the fall football season was over, Coach didn’t stop there.  He got on the telephone talking to recruiters all over the nation trying to place as many of his kids as possible.  His ministry was his kids he coached, and giving them the opportunity to earn a higher level of education through the sport they loved.

Lord, I speak these words with care,
Are You listening?  Are You there?
Will You laugh or think me dumb,
This wee voice from which it comes?

When I come to You in prayer
How will I know that You are there?
Will You find my words too thin?
Will You answer one so full of sin?

When the world demands so much of me,
Will You calm my soul as You do the sea?
My tasks are great; I am so small
I fear the failure worst of all.

Lord, if I give my fears up to You,
Will You give me strength to see it through?
Will You set a path for me to walk?
Will You nudge me on when I start to balk?

Lord, I know, there’s no other way,
But will You walk with me everyday?
Will You help me the right words to say?
Lord, will You teach me how to pray?

Source of Inspiration for The Timid Prayer
Yvonne answered a call to work as a Youth Director for a large church in Florida.  But as an emerging Christian, she had to learn the art of prayer.  Yvonne’s story and poem of how prayer affected her life were featured in a church publication created for Commitment Sunday.

The silence of the house when you’re away,
Each room devoid of the sun’s bright rays,
No indication of life around.
Each room a vacuum of unheard sound.

The silence in my head when you’re away,
Each thought is shelved; nothing to say.
Things to do, but no cause to act.
Motivation numb, no energy, just slack.

The silence of my heart when you’re away,
Held in suspension, each beat at bay.
The blood stagnant, no where to go,
A dam of emotion diverts the flow.

The feel of the house when you are here
No strange noises, no shadows to fear.
The rooms quiet, yet fragrant and warm.
Coffee’s brewing, no need for alarms.

The sounds of my head when you are here
Awaken my thoughts, senses are clear.
Plans to make, organize the day,
Things to do, so we can go play.

The sounds in my heart when you are here
Echos of joy from peels of loud cheer,
Pulsing, pounding, life’s blood resumes,
A rush of love my body consumes.

Source of Inspiration for When You’re Away
The years with your children, growing as a family, pass so quickly.  Then you and your mate are thrown into the “empty nest phase”.  It takes some getting use to at first.  Then those familiar feelings and special moments before the children came along resurface.  A wonderful closeness reappears with a comfortable love and close companionship.  Unfortunately, work will necessitate brief periods of travel.  During one such occasion, the quiet and loneliness of the house prompted me to write this poem to my husband.  I emailed the poem to him so he would have it to read when he answered his email the following morning.  It’s always nice when he comes home and those familiar sounds and sights resume.  And love goes on.

I Thirst!
Lord, I Thirst!
For Your Love,
For Your Grace,
A Peaceful Soul,
An Enlightened Heart,
For Your Forgiveness.
My God,
My God,
Why have I forsaken You!?

Source of Inspiration for I Thirst
One day I was looking for my Bible.  I looked in several places that I might have left it, but it wasn’t to be found.  I began to feel anxious, much like the feeling you get when you are thirsty.  Then these lines filled my head.  You may find the “word-twist” interesting.

In the sea of stone
What do you dread?
Is it fear of life, or
Fear of the dead?

In the sea of stone
There lie the shells,
Remnants of life,
Once living cells.

In the sea of stone,
There’s still hope for life,
Everlasting to everlasting
With our risen Christ.

At the sea of stone
Give thanks for their breath,
For the memory of love
Uncancelled by death.

At the sea of stone
Fear not the dead,
Cherish the peace,
Rejoice, instead.

Source of Inspiration for The Sea of Stone
Halloween was Saturday night, and the day after was All Saints Day, which is traditionally celebrated by Christians the first weekend in November each year. In his sermon, the minister, Rev. Tim Smiley, spoke of the old country churches and the tradition of placing the cemetery next to the church to include the departed loved ones or “saints” with the living encompassing the family of God. Visions of the cemetery full of love for the ones buried there inspired this poem. Published in Whispers of The Wind, The International Library of Poetry.

“Butterflies are free,” my Mom said to me.
Their beauty and grace were put on this place
To dance on the air and enchant our space
In time.  And then these creatures of beauty and love
Transcend to a level so far above
Leaving only the memory of beauty and love.

Source of Inspiration for Creatures of Love
After I returned home to Florida following my Mom’s funeral, I was standing in the garden watering my babies (my plants) when a beautiful zebra butterfly dance by my head.  I began to recall all of the butterflies I encountered as I packed up my Mother’s things.  There were butterfly pictures, butterfly figurines, a butterfly scarf, even her wall paper had butterflies.

As I watched the zebra butterfly dance around my head, I suddenly felt my Mom’s presence.  She was dancing on the air as she had not been able to do in her wheelchair.  She was free to dance at last!  And she was there to tell me it was “Ok”, and that she would always be there for me.

Then the poetic words of “Creatures of Love” filled my head.  I put the words on paper, using this poem in my thank-you notes to the kind people who sent their condolences.  Surprisingly, I had numerous people to call to comment on the poem.  This was also my first published poem, published in the book, Surrounded By Dreams, The National Library of Poetry. 1998.

Our love, a destiny, not by chance.
We love as one, God’s perfect dance.
Step by step, life’s rhythmed pace,
Ours souls in sync, ignite by grace.
Staccato the music, each step, each day,
In harmony and love our bodies sway.
Seconds fly, a year yet gone.
Still the dance goes on and on.
Dance with me ever, dip and twirl,
Past the moon and stars, and out of this world.

Source of Inspiration for God’s Perfect Dance
On the occasion of our 30th wedding anniversary, I awoke at 2:00 AM.  Unable to resume sleeping, I stumbled to my computer and began to “pen” this poem.  I wrote this as a gift to my husband, my hero, my champion, the one who has always encouraged me to reach higher.  

Then on the occasion of our younger son’s wedding, a young, very talented minister friend of mine, David Luna, put this poem to music, composing it in a Baroque style for piano and flute.  It was then sung by my friend and singer/composer, Brian Leeser, for my son’s wedding.

God’s Perfect Dance was featured in the Best Poems and Poets of 2003, and received the Editor’s Choice Award.