Summer

This is my first summer off since I began working 30 years ago. For 10 years, I worked long hours in the juvenile corrections field, which was so very rewarding, but also soul twisting. The last 14 years, I’ve worked 50-60 hour weeks with no sick or personal time, and until 2 years ago, I took only one short vacation each of those years. My soul is exhausted and in need of revitalization. 

For the summer, I am working 1 day a week, and the other days I do have many family responsibilities, but I also have free time that I’ve never had before. It feels so good.

As much as I’d love to use much of the free time to read and write, my heart is telling me I need to use it differently. My children are growing fast, and sooner than I’d like, they’ll be gone. My husband enjoys outdoor activities and loves nothing more than for me to accompany him. The house we’ve loved and lived within for 20 years is being remodeled, amidst the process of becoming in unison with those who inhabit it, and my elbow grease is contributing.

My heart is telling me my home needs some love, both figuratively and literally. This summer, my heart and spirit are leading me home, and it is breathing in me new life. 

I will only be here sporadically, but I’ll carry your words in my heart. Have an amazing summer, all! 

Angela

*image via Pixabay

Friendship

I’m not the most book-smart gal,
and I process rather slow

no formal education taught me
the things my heart knows

no golden plaque on the wall
could measure how my spirit grows

and no fancy dress or bank account 
could replace my love that freely flows

I’m just a girl who pays attention,
who shows up when others go

who listens and loves all of you,
who in tough times helps you tow

who isn’t embarrased to share deeply,
to let down barriers and overflow

and, I need that kind of friend, too,
whose love isn’t afraid to show

who understands that the only way
to be truly loved, is to be known 

-image via Pixabay

Words Are Not Enough

how does one thank someone 
who puts our needs above his own,
who blankets us in support
picking up the slack while we grow?

how does one thank someone
who cradled my babies in his arms,
and always in his heart
as they face the risk of harm?

how does one thank someone
who leads with love and logic, too,
checking ego at the door 
while we evolve, always anew?

how does one thank the husband
who inspires us all everyday,
the father of my children, 
the epitome of love in every way?

a few spoken words could never be enough
to express what my heart has to say,
so I’ll keep showing my love and gratitude,
for this amazing man, every day

-image via Pixabay

Be-er

I wish I could be a writer, 
etching soul into character

I wish I could be a poet,
transforming spirit into sound

My heart and spirit are always so full,
of words, of song, of love,
overflowing 

There is never enough time in a day
to put pen to paper,
to record what my heart and spirit 
can’t stop shouting

I’ve thought maybe it’s not my time,
that life’s circumstances just won’t
allow for it

But I think I’ve had it all wrong – 

It’s not about time at all,
it’s all about love

There’s only love and serving love
in this life

I could spend all my spare time
tucked into a desk, alone, pen in hand,
recording life

I suppose that’s love and serving love
in its own way

Or, I can be 
love

I can be the love, offer the love,
perpetuate the love,
face to face,
exposing my soul and this LOVE I have,
in everyday life,
giving to others and serving the world 
in the best way I know how

LOVE

I wish I could be a writer,
I wish I could be a poet,
but I think maybe my spirit is telling me
something else

I’m a be-er,
with the heart of a writer 
and the soul of a poet 

-image via Pinterest, source unknown 

Mine

img_6463

Ahh, look at her –
there’s something inevitable about her that draws me in,
my eyes can’t get enough,
I’m addicted

she has this quiet, humble confidence and these kind, welcoming eyes,
a classic, artful line about her

the graceful curve of her shoulder muscles eluding to her tranquil strength,
her delicate neck and the unpretentious way she holds herself, mesmerizing,
a tactile symmetry that whispers my name

the way the silky, black fabric rests on the soft edges of her collarbone,
making me wish I could follow them beneath

her exposed upper back begging for soft kisses,
for finger trails that cause the rest to arch in anticipation,
making me want to see just that

and there she sits,
tucking in a few stray strands of that beautiful, auburn hair,
twisted so effortlessly off her shoulders,
completely unaware of the attention,
her beauty so natural,
an easy, feminine elegance,
all woman,
mine

I’m gonna walk over there,
gonna wrap my arms around her and lead her to dance floor,
kiss the muscled line running from behind her ear and down her neck,
the one that leads to that inviting dip in her clavicle

I’m gonna listen to her gasp against my cheek,
feel her heartbeat quicken beneath my palms

I’m gonna hold her so close,
she won’t ever forget how I feel about her,
she won’t ever remember a time she wasn’t loved

-image credit Öykü, found on Tumblr

Never End


she sat on the couch, 
the smell of freshly popped popcorn laced with a faint whisper of strawberry shampoo filling the air around her, 
as her youngest daughter folded herself into her,
arms wrapping years around her small frame,
holding them in

she glanced from one side to the other,
catching her oldest daughter in a throw-your-head-back giggle,
and her husband with his face all smile and eyes bright with joy

and just like that,
she felt them all blow through her chest, 
simultaneously filling her to all her edges,
and turning her to dust 

God, she was happy,
happier than she’d ever been

and she never wanted it to end

-stock image via Pinterest

How’d That Happen?


it tore at my heart like nothing I’d ever experienced,
watching my daughter’s youthful uncoiling dictate her moods and impulses,
confusion, pain, and fear up front,
and all I wanted to do was hold her close and comfort her,
shield her from the pain,
knowing I could not,
for that’s not the way of things

then, somewhere over the last couple of years,
something about her has slowly changed,
there’s this air of grace settling in her,
and I’m not even sure from where it came

some girls grow into womanhood gracefully,
and some remain girls all their lives,
but there it was, inside my daughter,
all of the sudden,
not a graceful entrance by any means, 
but a stealthy one

we’d just been standing there,
in the kitchen,
when she had smiled, and said,
“thanks, mom”,
and something shifted

five minutes later, I realized I could
still feel her voice filling my chest

for, it mirrored my own voice,
slightly lower and more confident than the voice I remembered her having,
and I found myself wondering when it had made its home in my daughter’s vocal cords,
in her spirit,
and why I hadn’t noticed it before 

she is all grown up,
a woman

wow

how’d that happen?

-image via Pixabay

Bringers of the Light

some would say we’re too sensitive
call us sissies or say we’re too frail
some would call us drama queens 
and erect walls for us to scale

some would say we’re broken 
angles and edges that just don’t fit
but I see cracks made by growth
where love was free to sift

I see expression, fearlessly 
when some wish to tuck it away
truth tellers in a world of omission
seekers, willing to bend and fray

because, we aren’t afraid of darkness
for our hearts shine too bright
and we have the most amazing job –
we are the bringers of the light

-image via free lighthiuse wallpapers