Poetry Where You Live Poetry and photo site with over 1,650 poems and 660 pictures, along with many links. At least 500 of my poems are faith based. Member of United Methodist Church. Statistics Unique Visitors: Total Unique Visitors: Outgoing: Total Outgoing: 0 0 0 2591

Articles from Poetry Where You Live

Adding Our Hands 2007-08-13 14:31:00 We departed to serveblessed by our brothers,our sisters, in worshipSetting out this glorious Sunday ‘mornto add our hands to their workputting our feet to our faith.Heading downeast, to add our hands,to be His hands, His feet,His love, fellow servantswith our brothers and sistersout there, by the blueberry fieldsAugust 5, 2007 9:46On the start of our mission trip,from Wesley United Methodist Church,Concord, NH, to Jacksonville and Machias, MEto the Down East Maine Mission ...

Confused by Ambition 2007-08-04 13:52:00 Missing the message,the real message He was teachinglost in their own thoughts,their own ambitions, rivalrytheir own claims to fame, to fortuneto riches beyond imaginationWanting to be first when being firstmeant being slave, servantNot lord, vassal, gentry on the landNo, their sight was clouded, hidden behindthe veil of ambition, fighting for a prizethey didn’t understandOctober 22, 2006 14:41Mark 10:35-45 ...

An Unholy World 2007-08-04 09:29:00 We live in a timea world that Paul warned us aboutviolence and righteousness claimed in your namethe name of God to justify the slaughterthe maiming of innocentsthe unholy partnershipthe fellowship of light and darknessthe incongruity, the iniquitythat converted apostle of Christforetold, urged to be avoidedWe are called to be separated,to be in this worldbut not of this worldto prune and to focusto use the thorns in our livesheed their quiet callto cleave to you almighty saviorredeemer of our sinswhen we fall into the traplet down our guardand knock the temple off its foundationseeking easier pathssharing too much with the enemyJune 25, 2006 8:432 Corinthians 6:14-18 ...

Creative 2007-08-01 21:45:00 Her grandmothercommented on her drawing,her sketchpad in her lapsitting on the porch stepI commented that she writes stories too“She’s very creative”.She is that, and so much more,creative and funny, supportive,imaginative and bossy, big sisterand young child, at times.She is the oldest, the role model,the example, the tester, the onewe must get it right with.Creative, oh yes. A mind that seesthe details; but can conjure a worldin her stories, in the pictures she draws,yes, even the ones in church,when she shares them with me,insistently, when I am listeningto the sermon from the pulpit.She’s listening too, even then,because she knows the heartof the pastor’s message.Oh yes, Erica is creative;but that is just the beginning.August 1, 2007 20:45 ...

Deer in the Yard 2007-08-01 16:08:00 Looking our the windowthere was movement on the edgethe edge of the fog of the morningThree deer stood, intent,refined, reserved, particular deer.Munching, nibbling ever so gingerlyon the tiger lilies, day lilies,the lemon liliesat the edge of the driveway.They stood on the blacktop,not the dew drenched lawn.They didn’t seem interestedin other choices, more natural options.Clearly they were gourmet deerand the word got aroundthis was a good place for breakfast.August 1, 2007 15:20 ...

Worthy Snack 2007-08-01 16:04:00 Raspberry pickingled to its own rewardscratches, barbs,rash and burnall were a part of the processpersistence was the watch word,overcoming the adversity,the challenges of the pickingreaping a squished, wet, colorfulsaturated harvest of redin the bucket, the basket.Held precariously onthe handlebars of our bikes.Carefully barefoot pedalingdown the dirt road homeA worthy snack indeedAugust 1, 2007 15:25 ...

Blocks of Snow 2007-08-01 16:01:00 Blocks of snow,piled higher and higherbuilding a wall, a ringa start of an igloo, a fort,a bulwark, a defensebefore the attack,the barrage, the waveof snowballs, handmade missilesSafe behind the blocks of snow.August 1, 2007 15:27 ...

Curtailed Laps 2007-08-01 15:53:00 Back, but not forth,well a little forthand a little back,so are the lapsin our little blow-up poolin the side yard.Three across. Dive in.You’re done.August 1, 2007 15:31 ...

Flowing North 2007-08-01 15:50:00 She is a special placein my memoryA place of wild, unknown,of separateness, a little ways offDifferent pace, scale.A river running north,unlike my experience,my understanding, my ken.A different course,a different way,flowing north.August 1, 2007 15:42about the Allagash Wilderness,northern Maine.I canoed there in 1976 and 1977. ...

Snow Fort 2007-08-01 15:47:00 It all startswith the quality,the density, the sizeof the snow bank.True now, true forty years ago;it is the critical ingredient.We piled it high, over successive storms,waiting not so patientlyfor the right time. The right mixof wet and coldSnowman snow.Digging, with shovels, with handscreating a dome, an inner sanctuminterconnected tunnels, in and outmeeting in the middleall within the pile of snow.August 1, 2007 15:51 ...

Pool Man 2007-08-01 15:43:00 How cool was that!My grandpa was the Pool Manat the camp. In chargeof the vacuum, the chemistin the shed with the filter.In control of the chlorinekeeping the pool ready,for our playAugust 1, 2007 15:46 ...

Wearing His Colors 2007-08-01 15:40:00 I saw his headcoming through the crowd,the throng of many colors.A brightly colored, garish,basketball as a hat, a wig,a bold statement of loyalty, patriotism.His country’s flag on his head,his shirt, the tattoo on his arm.Wearing his colorsfor the world to see.Go Brazil!August 1, 2007 16:11Atlanta Olympics, 1996 ...

Counting Backward 2007-08-01 15:36:00 I remember when anesthesiameant ether and counting backwardas you breathed in that singular smellOne hundred, ninety-nineWhat, oh what, comes next?August 1, 2007 16:22 ...

Right in Front of My Face 2007-08-01 15:36:00 I heard a thwack, a sudden soundby the second floor window.It wasn’t an acorn, though I thought it wasat first. A tiny tree frogagainst the screen, the windowright in front of my faceHow he got there, I can only guessMaybe he lived therein the gutterbelow the overhangthat part of the roofHe was there, happy as you pleaseignoring my nose, inches from his facewatching his feet, his gripon the glassright in front of my faceAugust 1, 2007 15:13, 16:35 ...

Smells of Creation 2007-08-01 12:11:00 Freshly tilled soil, rot on the forest floorchocolate bubbling on the stoveGardenias, violets, garlic breathSulphur of the volcano,A spruce forest in JuneThe splash of ocean surf after a stormThe cold of snow as it starts to fallA lilac bush, lily of the valley in bloomRain coming on a spring day,rain falling on hot wet pavement in summerfresh cut grass, maybe after a light shower, hay after cuttingBread, fresh from the ovenThe sweet of an orange as it goes from ripe to just moldyA dusty road in AugustMusty basements, a pool of standing waterHamburgers on the grill, a hot fan beltA tomcat’s mark, popcorn poppingWhisper of a rose bloom, the stink of Roquefort cheeseAn apple pie cooling on the shelfthe biting fragrance of a freesia’s flowerA geranium’s skin, a skunk’s defense,radiator fluid boiling overWet llama fur, wet burlapNew blacktop, a brand new cara baby’s skinThese are smells of creationfinished August 1, 2007 12:12started July 11, 2007Genesis 1 ...