Browsing Archive: April, 2009
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, April 30, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Waiting feels so heavy,
so sad, somehow, not
knowing why, just a slow
simmer that never quite boils,
a lingering in limbo, a
question with no one to ask.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Sunday, April 26, 2009,
In :
poetry
 How many shades of green,
from dusty juniper to silvered birch to forest elm,
from boxwood brights to watery moss to jolly daffodils,
in four seasons and in between
watch us with their easy eyes,
their restful, sighing branches and
wonder at how many shades of skin
we walking, jogging, hurrying humans
travel in?
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, April 23, 2009,
In :
poetry
 When he was small, my father said,
he rocked along in the back seat of
a car that carried food, water, and gasoline
in the trunk;
past stretching native meadows
of blue perfume as far as his
young eyes could see,
a narrow road passing through
fields of heaven's waving scepters. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Wednesday, April 22, 2009,
In :
poetry
 End of the day
tiny feet push pedals
tired hands hold steady
a young life learning
to navigate
life's dusty road. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Saturday, April 18, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Thick, spiky leaves
a sickly yellow;
spotted, drying from
the outside in;
my tangled tongueful
of hurtful words,
shadowed by a Cross. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Monday, April 13, 2009,
In :
poetry
 This, then, is
how we live now -
with every good
and sweet
blessing in life -
His body given
to taste and enjoy -
the One from whom
all goodness flows. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Sunday, April 12, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Run!
Tell the good news!
Like a child in the sun,
Skip! with feet that are swift
and springing with joy!
Dance!
That all the world might see
the freedom holy blood has bought!
Run!
Do not be slow!
The grave is empty!
The earth alive with
Easter's elation! Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Saturday, April 11, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Maundy Thursday
Good Friday
Easter Sunday but
no name for Saturday;
no name for this
thorny grief that sweeps
and tears and bludgeons;
no name for such
sorrowful
battering of the heart
and hope.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Saturday, April 11, 2009,
In :
poetry
 The prisoners wait
the blue just beyond
the cool within reach
forgiveness and forever
draped limp upon
a guilting cross. Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Tuesday, April 7, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Trust is such a tiny thing,
such a wound-tight-in-hope thing,
such a feaful thing to open up
into the world;
trust is a vulnerable greenness
bursting from Winter's wood,
a heart stretched gingerly towards God,
trusting that He is good.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Monday, April 6, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Worship is not so much words spoken,
but an attitude of the heart,
a waiting of the mind,
a silencing of the body;
it is a joyful dance within the soul
that He exists and that He loves.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Thursday, April 2, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Black wrought iron twisted and shaped
into a greeting, a house, a heart;
strength molded and formed as
a simple gift from deep within the earth
and received on my birthday,
rooted in her curly laughter,
twirling and entwining memories
of happy years together.
I keep it hanging by the back door,
friendlier than the front,
where family more than friends enter,
passing by the remembrance of
her strongly cheerful spirit.
Continue reading ...
Posted by Sally Clark on Wednesday, April 1, 2009,
In :
poetry
 Not to be eaten peeled or whole,
lemons must be sliced,
squeezed, or grated,
the bitter taste of self-control
needs sweetening for digestion;
tart strength preserving
a zest that might
otherwise be wasted.
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. |
