Month: November 2011

November 19, 2011

sleep

I slept four hours

hard

thanks to Sandman

and the cat

they both cuddled me

fast asleep

sometime before ten

now it’s the wee hours

of the night

full dark outside

I can hear the clock tick

and the chimes chime

my child’s cough

from up the stairs

I’ll tuck back in

before the sun rises

or midday

for a nap

home feels good

after four nights

in the hospital

we’re together 

again

sleepin’ under

the same roof

as it should be

November 18, 2011

TODAY IS FILLED WITH PRAISES!

 

TODAY IS FILLED WITH PRAISES!

Before the doctors came in on rounds,
it was an especially gorgeous sunrise,
with bands of color across the horizon.
Even more spectacular,
than yesterday’s golden glow.
 

Good news from The Pathology Report.
A clear CT scan. 
Minimal air around the lungs.
Nothing showed up on the x-ray.
Going home. 
 

Staples out today.
Hemoglobin OK.
I am crying tears of Joy. 
Why do we doubt,
when God is so good?
He has this under control.
He’s showing us,
step by step,
I have this. 
Trust Me. 
But we doubt. 
We worry. 
We fret. 
Well, I do. 
Even when he gives us the gift
of a sunrise in vivid hues
to say, “I Am Here”.
Thank you, God. 
It’s your prayers.
All of them. 
Each and every one. 
We are so overwhelmed
with the power of them,
as God keeps moving mountains
from our path. 

He hears them. 
He answers. 
In His time. 
In His way. 

God is good. 
All the time.
How Great Is Our God!
Love and thankfulness
for each of you,
for walking so closely with us
on my husband’s journey
through cancer,
from diagnosis to survivor,
is our prayer.
Friday morning, November 18, 2011
© 2011 Turquoise Tangles
November 17, 2011

NOPE…not a thing about grammar, spelling or punctuation

takingstockofwhatmattersmost:

Definition: Poetry is an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define.

I never knew I could write until I went to college. In high school my English teachers marked my papers up so much for misspelled words, run on sentences, fragments of sentences, and commas in the wrong damn place, that at one point I was getting D’s on my papers sophomore year. I hated English class and LOVED math class, not that I did too well in Trigonometry… In college though, I had a History professor who loved reading my answers to his essay test questions so much, that he asked me to write abstracts of Bahamian newspaper articles for an annual reference book he was involved in publishing. It was a semester of independent study and worked out just fine. Later, I had an Art History professor, who especially liked my compare contrast papers. I even got A’s in English. Who knew? Certainly not me. Grammar is for the birds, spelling is best done phonetically with creatively, and punctuation is optional. In my humble opinion. ~ Janean