A Poem for Thanksgiving

With Thanksgiving happening later this month and with the focus this month on thinking about the positive things in our life… I figured a poem about the things I’m thankful for was appropriate.  I wrote it a couple weeks ago, but I’m posting it for the holiday.



For family and friends
Both near and far away
For birds in treetops high
That sing to greet the day

For things that scamper
Through fallen leaves
For things that swim
Within rivers and seas

For all our furry friends
That give us so much love
For sun and moon and stars
That shine down from above

For the snow and rains
That help the flowers grow
For the forests, fields and deserts
Wherever we call home

For all the good things
We have here on earth
For the unfailing grace
We’ve had from birth

A God of Opposites

A poem inspired by my inspirational verse for the day: “My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9


The first, we’re taught, will be last
Likewise, the last will be the first
In our weakness, we show God’s strength
The most mighty are made low
The wealthy are often the poorest souls.

Love those who hate you
The ones most would shun, were welcomed by Him.
God’s grace doesn’t make sense…
Maybe because freely given gifts
– those without strings –
Aren’t something we can understand.

What Makes a Good Person?

This is a poem that I wrote that was inspired by the phrase prompt: the secret of the making of the best persons (from the WriYe DreamWidth).  It was also sort of inspired by the time of year.


Are people born good?
Are they made that way?
Is there a secret somewhere?
Is the idea just too cliché?

Maybe the thing we all should do
Is to show others due respect.
Treat others as we’d want to be:
Like they’re a person, not an object.

Instead of doing something nice
Expecting to have that kindness returned
Just do it because
It’s best for all concerned.

How much different would the world be?
How much better would we all feel?
Maybe it might even help
The wounds of the past begin to heal…

The Weird

When someone in the place where my NaNo is set has fae heritage, people say they have a bit of “the weird” in them. This poem is from the point of view of two of my main characters.

A bit of “the weird”
It’s what they say…

Do they know what that means?
Do they know how it hurts?
To be shoved away or pushed aside,
Or left out of their normal life?

A bit of “the weird”
They whisper and point…

Do they think we don’t see?
Do they think we don’t care?
To see their fear or feel that shame,
Or see how they look down on us?

A bit of “the weird”
But who really cares?

Isn’t it part of who we are?
Isn’t it how we help others?
Rise above it or work within it!
But don’t ignore your inner self!

I (don’t) hate you

I hate you
For all the pain you cause
For all the strife you sew
For all the trouble wrought

I hate you
You, who stole my heart
Who broke it clean in two
Who crushed the shattered shards

I hate you
I can’t count all the ways
You can’t even imagine
Yet somehow… I don’t

I hate you
The mother of my children
The one who showed me life
You taught my heart to dance

I really want to hate you
Somehow, I just can’t…