God is a Tree Hugger.

God is a tree hugger.

I am a deep, strong Oak

When the tornado comes

and I’m on the ground

My roots are taller than any man.

it may seem over

as i lay there


The Gardener comes

In the cool of the day.

He picks me up

Plants me

Puts a hedge of protection

around me.

My roots grow again

stronger, deeper, thirstier.

The wind whispers through my leaves.

It says:

You are mine,

You are loved,

You are magnificent,

You are powerful,

You are strong,

You are the center of My universe,

You are the only thing I see,

You are my creation,

God is a tree hugger.

Luke 15 NIV


School is out

Well school is out for me right now. I took a poetry class and was a little disappointed that I didn’t like the class. I guess I like poetry, but I don’t like someone telling me my deepest feelings and thoughts are wrong. Or at least I put them wrong on paper. When it’s fiction, I understand as I’m just making up a story and you want just the right word, but with poetry, at least the poetry I write, I just lay all out there. Maybe that’s called my diary and not poetry:-)

Here is a poem I did.


The Rock


The Rock

Fall on me gently.

Save me from this circle.

Spinning down, the vortex of water doesn’t stop.

Circling ever deeper.

I need a hand.

Pull me from this trap.

Let me cling to


The Rock

Lifts me up

With stepping stones.

Blows on me.

Brings me to riverside.

Deep roots sink into life.

The Rock

Course through me, bringing Spring.

Your fragrance!

Swirling around me in

Shades of lavender

Layers of lilac

I’m alive!

The Rock

Calls to me

Pull others out.

Bring them to the riverside

Draw others to life

Life is

The Rock





My first two attempts at a Haiku

I had to write a Haiku for my Poetry class. After some comments from my teacher on my rough draft, here is the final version. I did two hoping that one of them would give me a good grade.

Sinking of the Ship

Liquid mountains loom

Choking, pleading, Stop! Darkness

Captains know their place.


Winter Forts

Brick by frozen brick

Giggling as we shovel

Defending our yard.




This is a poem I wrote for my poem’s class that I just started. It’s suppose to be referencing a childhood memory.


A pinch and a punch greeted me at the door.

I didn’t care this time.

The winter wind pushed them away.

They couldn’t take away the joy.

I could still feel the fun and giggles washing over me.

Four whole hours of peace

no torment dressed as children to be found.

I entered my house.

My stepmother’s house.

The glow of those wonderful hours

dispelled the darkness in the corners.

I walked up the stairs to see my stepmother standing

arms folded, blocking my path.

The look on her face.

The joy flittered away

I tried to reach out to it

to not let go.

My father sat at the table, head bowed low to the table.

The screaming started

whipping me this way and that.

On my father’s lap I sat

he didn’t mind my snow.

Drip, Drip, Drip was

the staccato beats to her war cry.

The familiar sense of fear, shame and chaos

wrapped around me.

I sat – as my father

making patterns from the swirls on the table.

What Love is this…

What is it that we have

that as adults we are all Happy?

A super natural Father.

Our mother in need   gave us what she could

Massive Hemoraging   not enough

Our earthly father     dead to love     burned up

What love could fix us?

A Heavenly man stepped down from above

heavy footprints of Love

showing us the way ou  T.

Sin brought death, brought life and death again.

Sweet rest and Peace

Destroyer loses.

The King has won.

This battle over.

A new one has begun.

Mountain Top

I would like to write my life’s story sometime, but I keep feeling like it isn’t the right time. Like I’m climbing the mountain and then when I get to the top, I can write about the experience. It just seems like I’m never quite there. There are still so many unresolved areas in my life. I’m waiting to get to the point where I’ve reached the top and now it’s no longer a struggle as I hike along the ridge.

I’m still climbing the mountain.

The top seems just out of sight.

When I’ve lost the weight,

when he has the job,

when bills are not a worry,

when Pearl is not anxious,

when Joey is okay,

when Cliff and Adrienne visit,

when I have a degree,

when everything is perfect.

Then I’ll have something to say,

then I’ll be worth listening to,

then the music will start,

then words will flow,

then the guilt and shame will flee,

then I’ll be worthy,

then I’ll soar,

then I’ll rebuild the walls,

Then I can begin.


Getting past the victim’s heart

now I’m at the angry part

It was years ago, buried in the deep

It took a movie with a stupid ending

to pull away the wrapping and evaporate

The hurt, the pain, anger and shame


What would I do if I had new?

Would I have a princess heart?

or was I destined to my part?

Sin and sin and sin some more

hurt and pass the hurt

Going down the line

passing through and around the bloodied man

trying to stymy the tide

Reach out, grab hold

He’s Alive