Category Archives: poetry

This is Our Song

songThe frantic buzz of the strings – busy, busy, busy boy.

The lilting chime of the bells – sweet, charming girl.

The rock ‘n roll squeal of the electric guitar – dramatic, fun girl.

The delicate dance of the woodwinds – gentle, beautiful girl.

The deep thrum of the bass – steady, brilliant man.

The every-changing melody of the lyrics – clumsy, passionate woman.

This is our song.

The syncopated beat of everyday routine

The discordant strains of conflict

The lighthearted whistle of totally adorable

The crash of tantrums

The faint hum of grief

The trill of humor

The every-changing tempo of life

And always, the counterpoint of




This is our song.

It’s the only one of it’s kind!

So here’s us, in this Five Minute-ISH Friday. Not exactly by the rules, written one line at a time throughout a morning of errands and border waits and toddler chasing. But I loved the prompt – SONG.

5minutefridayLinking up to Lisa-Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday post

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Be generous and leave an encouraging comment for the person who linked up before you. That’s the best part about this community.

And if you don’t have a blog, feel free to leave your five minutes of writing as a comment. And we’ll love on you there.

Through the Eyes of my Story

This is my story.
It covers me,
every part.
I wear it like a uniform
in my head
and on my heart.

This is my story.
on my tongue.
Can I ever taste another
without flavouring
it wrong?

This is your story.
When I look
at you I see
Your words through the eyes
of my own

This is your story.
Who am I
to judge you?
For whatever brought you this far
and carries
you through.

This is our story.
We are a people
who cry
To know and be known
until the day
that we die.

This is our story.
It was meant
to be heard
By each other and by the One
who first gave us
the words.

story glassesThere is power in story
To face failings and faults,
To embrace healing and laughter,
To trace the hand of God.

So we plant our stories
In the hearts and the minds,
Of all who will listen
And respond in kind.

So here’s me, one last poem for National Poetry Writing Month. In my mind, the scariest kind of writing of all.

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