Monthly Archives: March 2011


bird and man photo by James Rainsford c/o One Stop Poetry
Photo by James Rainsford


the colored hues of stone and life

perplex the eye and mind

to believe that stone is forever etched

or that these wings are very much alive


but living tis more than a beating heart

and beauty beyond the sculpt of hand

a life well lived is worthy far more

than this bird perched on the memory of a man


for the man has carved a legacy strong

a reminder of a good that once was

while the fowl sits lifeless atop a good name

and does what a good bird does


This is my submission for the Picture Prompt Challenge at One Stop Poetry. Go read some of the other submissions here.


broken silence

the silence is only broken

by forced-dammed tears


the air is sticky

coagulated grease

left on the stovetop


hollow pings from the speakers

do little to drown out the quiet


reflectors thump the tires

as the vocal chords rest

and eyes burn not with passion


the driveway finds the wheels

unfitting end to a weary ride


doors thud as dead air is trapped

the softened stairway carpets the pain

and leads upward to a new place


the car remains below and outside

and the silence is again broken



This is my submission for One Shot Wednesday for OneStopPoetry.

Go there to read other submissions for the week.




they pass in the hallway

her shirt brushes his arm

the fragrance of perfume

draws memories out

against their will


her eyes seem to say

that he’s lost his charm

though her countenance exudes

a welcoming shout

that sends chills


he goes through the day

not wishing her any harm

though he willfully chooses

to embrace doubt

love be still


so he’ll choose this life of pain

a cold heart, never warm

he’d almost rather lose

forfeit this bout

passion is chilled


he’s had his fill

stepped away from his vow

his ego’s still bruised

her heart’s alarmed

alone she’ll pray


This is my submission for the Warrior Poet Circle. The prompt this week was “Lonely.”

Go check out some of the other submissions here.

Remnants of Shakespeare



Friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,

for mine eyes aren’t enough to behold life’s beauty.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind

and sees with a light that in my inner darkness abides.

What light through yonder window breaks?

A golden tone both elegant and soft,

its rich warmth searching for that which lusters.

All that glisters is not gold.


As the trees look in to find their place,

all the world’s a stage

for the doyen of art to show his mastery.

This thing of darkness

hinders our view of what is lovely and

of all that is worthy of mending.

Nothing can come of nothing but

such stuff as dreams are made on.


O, what men dare do!

to leave to rot this chalice of joy.

What’s done is done,

but should not keep one from doing it again

tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

Pray we, too, will live our scripts with abandon,

our heart’s stage ever breathing the words of the author.

To him and to thine own self be true.


This is my submission for a One Stop Poetry’s Picture Prompt Challenge. The picture, shown above, led me to interact with remnants of Shakespeare. It’s quite a bit more than just a caption!

See other postings to this prompt here.

an answered prayer

The pain of a miscarriage is a deep wound indeed.

While God has spared my wife and me that agony, we have walked beside others who have endured this unwelcome journey. I wrote a poem, actually two poems, for a friend (I’ll call him Charles) after he told us his story. Today’s post is a little unusual for me, as I believe art should stand on its own merit, but I hope you’ll indulge my digression into the backstory of this particular piece.

After years of trying, including fertility drugs and other treatments, Charles and Susan had nearly given up hope. On the eve of her follow-up appointment, Susan took two pregnancy tests with expectation; both were negative. She went to sleep fitfully, weeping and burdened. Later that night, Charles came to bed after working late into the evening. He laid his hand gently on her stomach and began to pray a passionate, emotional, and heartfelt prayer. His eyes and heart fatigued from battle, he drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Susan went to her scheduled doctor’s appointment as planned. She later called Charles somberly and whispered that they needed to talk. On his way home, he prepared for another sob session in the arms of his bride. Instead, he was warmly greeted with surprise news: Based on a blood test, Susan was most definitely pregnant!


her wet face is dry now

pain is still fresh



emotions are spent


deepest desires

fall on deaf ears



can’t find the tears


God i’m still asking

i want you to hear

trying so hard now

to face all my fears

passion inside me

as i humbly draw near




i just want you to hear


a touch and a prayer

i long to cry out



my pain i lay down


my words are a whisper

deep longings are known



your faithfulness shown


I wish I could say that was the end of the story. Unfortunately, a few days later, my dear friend shared the disappointing news that Susan had an early miscarriage. My heart broke for them. I can scarce imagine the darkness of the pain after such elating news only a few days prior.


a bitter disappointment

is like gall on the tongue

an answered prayer

retracted as quickly

gone before hope had begun


burning in my throat

after heaving sob on sobs

in deep fatigue

is this hollow pit

in my ears my heartbeat throbs


a celebration cut short

with tears of deep ache

our countless joy

is joy no more

i quiver an uncontrollable shake


but hope hangs on daintily

like chalk on the sidewalk after rain

the faded image of joy

a distant hope almost seen

a longing that sees through my pain


It’s unusual for me to share the inspiration for my writing, but I thought it was important for you to know the backstory so you could pray effectively. So, will you join me in praying for our friends? Feel free to pray for them by name… (I’m sure that God can transliterate “Charles” and “Susan” into their real names.) I’m deeply moved by their heart for God and their desire to bring a new life to this world, so I desperately intercede on their behalf. We know we have eternal hope in Christ, but Charles and Susan are weary from battle, and need to be lifted up before our Maker, to be restored, to be renewed, and, hopefully, someday, to be blessed with children.


Grace and peace,