It’s been a minute. More like weeks really. Sometimes even my best intentions can’t get me to the computer as life is buzzing all around me and for that I am thankful. As I continue to struggle finding the time putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, I am learning to accept where I am at this present moment and taking whatever time I have, no matter how great or small, and using those moments wisely. This is a special month. Not only is it Spring(yay!) but it is our anniversary month, April’s Gotcha Day month, and National Poetry Month. For the last several years I have been writing a poem a day as part of Writer’s Digest PAD challenge by Robert Brewer. Every day in the month of April a new poetry prompt is posted on the Writer’s Digest website. As many of you know, poetry writing is my go-to. Sometimes I think that I think in verse and I would probably sound a lot more eloquent if I could speak that way. The thing that I love most about poetry though, is that there are really no rules. You don’t have to follow a certain format (but you can), you don’t have to capitalize or even use punctuation(unless you want to). You can write about anything and it can rhyme, or not. It can be long or short, be shared with the world or be kept completely private.
I learned to write poetry in elementary school like most kids do, but I trended more towards short stories. As I got older especially through my middle school and high school years, when everything sucks and you wear all black and huge baggy pants and dye your hair and listen to angry music in your basement (oh wait-that could just be me, tmi? If info can help someone it is never tmi), a friend reintroduced me to poetry. I remember us laying on the living room floor, each with a pen in hand, writing poetry. I don’t think we ever even shared what we were writing with one another. But in our own separate struggles in our own separate lives, had poetry as a form of venting and therapy. I love that. I love that I can pick up my journal and pen and write something that I’m feeling to get all the yuck out. I love that I can write poetry praising God for all his amazing works. I love that I can write poetry on cards where I take other people’s ideas and feelings and make something beautiful out of it. It is a gift from God you know. Because even when my words flow beautifully on paper, in a book, or on my blog, all glory goes to Him. He gave me the gift of writing. He gave me the love of writing. And even when I am broken and I pour all of my feelings onto the page and have the best release, it is him, who takes all of my brokenness and makes me whole, not me, no. I love that he takes broken things and makes them beautiful. I love that he gives us gifts and molds us and shapes us into who He wants us to be when we have a willing heart. I love that I have a savior who knows me and cares for me.
Today I am going to share with you my poems from days 1 and 3. Day 1 is an “F” poem and Day 3 is a smell poem. If you are a fellow poet (I don’t think I’ve ever called myself that before) or a poet wannabe, check out the PAD challenge below. You can share your poems there or you can share them with me here.
And in case you are new to my blog, before Covid hit, I published a book of my poetry. You can find it on Amazon, which is currently listing my book at 43% off.
PAD Day 1- An “F” Poem
in what I
feel of the wind
against my face
But my faith
is stronger than the wind
Because my God
is more powerful
and all he
calls on me to
do is have faith
and believe in him
and I am saved, not by
no that’s not faith
but by his grace and mercy
So in his love
I can walk by faith
and not by sight
because I believe
That is faith
PAD Day 3- A Smell Poem
Campfires on a summer’s night
Marshmallows toasting just right
The smell of grass after the rain
Spying a rainbow over the plains
Firework smoke fills the air
Breathing in the sight and smell without a care
The smells of summer are a delight to the senses
Making you drop your guard and leave all your defenses
Behind on a beach, a cold drink in one hand
Smelling salt air with my feet in the sand.
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