Browsing Archive: February, 2009
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, February 26, 2009,
In :
poetry
When I am sick,
it's hard to pray;
I feel most like
a withered limb
to Him,
still attached
but useless;
the pain of separation
far greater than
the pain that I
endure.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, February 19, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Thick sweetness caught me as
I rounded the corner, a mass
of white blooms waving
on slender stalks, an invitation
to inhale Spring's promise
and believe.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Sunday, February 15, 2009,
In :
poetry
 I treasure nothing more than
the words he gives to me,
horde them like riches,
hide them like jewels,
carry them like secrets in my heart
where no one else can see,
live out of his good love,
all the days of my life. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, February 12, 2009,
In :
poetry
 What appears to be a tangled mass of
stripped, stunted, empty branches is
really us, all growing from the same root,
in the same soil, breathing the same air;
all awaiting our resurrection budding when
our nakedness will be clothed and
the tangles of our lives become a
beautiful, breathing canopy of green.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Wednesday, February 11, 2009,
In :
haiku
 yellowed grass and limestone rock
monochrome landscape of
a monotonous drought Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Monday, February 9, 2009,
In :
poetry
 In this droughted landscape,
wind fills the air with dust,
stings the eyes that strain
to see an end in sight. Continue reading ...
 Sister, sister, sister, dear,
sometimes, I'm glad that you are here,
sometimes, I think that you are sweet;
your deepest secrets I will keep.
But sometimes you annoy me so,
I just can't wait to see you go
anywhere that is not here,
sister, sister, sister, dear! Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Sunday, February 1, 2009,
In :
poetry
  I ask Ella Rose how old is Jesus and
without hesitation,
she holds up her fingers:
one, two, three.
She knows that Jesus snuggles
in her arms when she rocks her dolls,
warms her with pink, princess fleece,
and agrees with her that spinach is yuck.
They enjoy a close relationship in
the shared experiences of a lifetime. Continue reading ...
| Every day has a poem. I watch, I listen, I think, I pray. When I hear a poem, I write it down. Sometimes I find a picture that illustrates the day. I am always surprised. I hope you will be, too.
A writer of many genres, Sally Clark loves living in a small town with her husband where their grown children and five grandchildren all live within walking distance. Crowded with relationships, busy with activities, Sally takes refuge on the balcony of their old Victorian house - the perfect place to pen her thoughts.
Visit Sally's web site at: www.sallyclark.info
Contact Sally at: auslande@ktc.com
or follow Sally on Twitter.
Writers information site: www.christwriters.info. |
