[hey poet, tell me a story] or, #7 Holy Water

Greetings my friends! Well, my summer is drawing to a close… God willing I will be flying back stateside in 8 days to start the first semester of my Junior year at the end of August. I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for school to begin – but, well, here we are. πŸ˜€

The older I get, the more convinced I become that time moves increasingly quickly. But it does – I’m sure of it! If anyone knows of a technique that slows specific portions of time down, let me know – I really could use it right now. πŸ˜€

Continue reading “[hey poet, tell me a story] or, #7 Holy Water”

Poem – August Epithalamion

Today I am going to share with you a poem that is extremely out of context. Out of context because a.) it’s set in August (which is now in the rear view mirror) and b.) it’s about a wedding (and I haven’t been to one of those in about three years). However, I really like it, and I wanted to share it with you all, and that’s reason enough for me! πŸ˜€

In case you are wondering what the heck an epithalamion is, I’ve got you covered. (or rather dictionary.com does) It’s a “song or poem in honour of a bride and bridegroom.” I was tasked with writing one for my poetry class, and this is the result…


She became his in the heat of trembling summer,

when the water pooled silently beneath the willows

and the air was full of lazy, yellow butterflies.


The old church was filled with lilacs and honeybees

that wandered in and out, bumping against the stained

glass windows and asking questions to the minister.


Later there was O’ Henry peach pie while

sunflowers nodded sociably over champagne,

whispering fairy tales to the meadowlarks at dusk.


Night brought rain and the sweet relief of

shadows dancing over white lace puddles

to the sound of crickets behind the barn.


Stars poked dim heads from behind sleeping hills.

They laughed at each other in the small of the morning,

fingers tangled together like sweet, sweet honeysuckle.


Well that’s it for today! I hope your weekend is full of rest and quiet joyous moments that warm your heart. πŸ™‚

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this poem in the comments!

Poem – My Heart is Warmed

October has arrived, bringing with it Autumn in all its smoke and scarlet glory. Or at least the promise of it… Where I am we still have a couple days of sunshine forecasted before the true rain and falling leaves of Autumn arrive. But still…. πŸ˜€

This season always makes me think of gratefulness. Perhaps it’s because Thanksgiving falls during this season, or perhaps because we’re nearing the end of a year. Whatever it is, gratitude is often on my heart and mind. Which is providential, because one of my prompts this past week in my poetry class was to write a gratitude poem! And so I did. πŸ˜€


By summer grass matcha in a paisley mug and sun specks

waltzing together across a quiet room.

By the weight of this dark-haired child sleeping,

warm and heavy in my arms.

By a love-note snuck under my door,

the pile of cookies cooling on a blue china plate,

and the cheerful smile of pumpkins sprawled across September fields.


My heart is warmed by the muted rainbow of books

cascading across shelves and onto the floor

in a pile of words and dust.

By the baby’s breath that hangs, like a lacy shadow,

above the mirror on the wall.

By the rocking chair that rocks itself to sleep

beneath my mother’s orange pinwheel quilt,

and succulents parading across a basement windowsill,

reaching their hands towards the light.


I’d love to hear about some things you are grateful for in this season of life! Tell me all about it in the comments. πŸ™‚

Poem – Little Sister

It’s late, and somehow the weekend again, and I am starting to get scared at how fast the weeks are moving now. But time moves quickly I guess – and what else is new these days? πŸ˜€

Today I want to share a poem with you that combines all my delightful memories of spending time this past summer with my two little sisters into one, conglomerate poem (wow that was a complicated sentence :D) Writing can be both therapeutic and emotionally draining – and this was one of those times. I have a lot of affection for those two blonde, vivacious girls, and writing this poem definitely tugged on my heart strings.


Last summer she clambered, laughing, into my dreams,

dragged me out in search of tangled blackberry treasure,

showed me where the fairies hide their shoes.


Last summer I tamed wild curls on birdsong mornings,

splattered rainbow handprints across reams of white paper,

spun stories like candy floss for an eager, one-person audience.


Last summer we held hands more often than not,

danced to the rhythm of a sudden, rhumba rain,

gathered drowsy buttercups beside familiar footpaths.


Last summer, before I left, I kissed all twenty-four of her freckles,

tied her dragging shoelace one more time,

and wished for next summer to come soon.


Well, there you have it – a little glimpse into my slightly-homesick big sister heart. πŸ™‚

I’d love to hear what you think of this poem! Do you have memories of summers like these? Let’s chat in the comments! πŸ™‚

Snippets of July

July is nearly over, and I’m not quite sure where it went. It has passed in a blur of long work days and early mornings, music of all shapes and sizes, Psalms and long conversations with friends, and many, many hours of reading aloud. Summer is nearly over, and I’m simultaneously excited for and slightly dreading the return to school in two weeks (!). Somehow Autumn is looming larger by the day and Summer is beginning to fade around the edges…Β 

Anyways, enough of that vaguely depressing nonsense. πŸ˜€ Today I thought I would give you a little peek into what joys this month has held for me. It isn’t a poem exactly – more like a collection of questionably poetical lines. That’s what you get when it’s late and my brain is foggy with sleep and I’ve been reading a lot of L.M. Montgomery and C.S. Lewis. πŸ˜€ I hope you enjoy!


Morning roads winding upwards under a clear and quiet sky.

Dawn in all its shy, dim glory.

The chatter of children and the clasp of many hands.

Moments of peace snatched from the hands of haste.

Stories unfolded in the company of handmade paper dolls and friendly rain.

Green pinafore dresses the color of sea foam eyes and faded spring.

The gold of lion’s mane and the dust of many roads captured in the pages of books read aloud.

Laughter and watermelon rinds mingle, scattered across the dinner table.

Hands entangling beneath a golden, rain-washed sky.

The warm, trusting weight of a small sleeping body.

Psalms quietening my soul for rest in the quiet of falling night.

Looking towards tomorrow, wishing against the rush of today soon to become yesterday.


Of course this isn’t all July has brought me. It also gave me a healthy dosage of fears, doubts, tears, exhaustion, exasperation, and random injuries to my left arm. πŸ˜€ But where is the poetical joy in all that? How much better to fix our souls on the good and beauty that is found amidst the dark and shadow. I find that when I lift my eyes above the fear and look for the joys, my heart is strengthened and I am able to face another day with fresh anticipation and hope. I pray it may be so with you.Β 

What joys has July brought into your path? I’d love to hear about them (in poetical form or not) in the comments! πŸ™‚