Monthly Archives: December 2015

For What It’s Worth


For what it’s worth

I’d like to say that I had a year

But I won’t put a rating

just yet.

Everything that a year should have

it did

It had unforgettable moments

good and ugly

Emotions that were in their own category

One time only bliss and fear.

I had time to stare at the sky

I had enough time to memorize the ground.

I gained and lost so much

because everything comes at a price, right?

I gained knowledge

of the world

and myself

but I could get a little lost in that, too.

I met people that changed me

and people that I changed.

A million trillion memories were made

Memories of darkness

Memories of life

but memories none the less

I do not know if I met the cliche

‘This was my year,’

but it certainly was a year

Soon to remember as good

or bad

or maybe both

So I will kiss you good-bye

and remember you in pages of my words

I will honor you in my life of the present

I look to the future

not to change

but to mold me

in whatever way it pleases.

For what it’s worth

I’d like to say that I had a year

But I won’t put a rating

just yet.




Yet Not Forgotten: A Rondeau Poem

Something that ends in memory

Is something that I do not wish to be

Asking, begging, forget me. Please?

Remembered for person, not for glories

Not for great world acts, personally, me


Over lifetime being, salute to me

Minutes of fame do not define ably

Softly in heart, not bravely in stories

Of me, yet not forgotten


Remember weakness, doubts, getting by

Not public image, life looking glossy

I’m fragile flower, not glowing rubies

Recall me in whispers, not glees

Common girl, not celebrity

Of me, yet not forgotten



Flооd via / CC BY-NC-ND

My Favorite Bible Verses

Psalm 94:17-19

Unless the Lord had given me help,
    I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death.
When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
    your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
    your consolation brought me joy.


Exodus 14:14

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still


Romans 8:38-39

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

1 Corinthians 13:12 Message

“We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!”


Proverbs 16:9

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.


Isaiah 43:18-19

“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.”


Joshua 1:9b

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”


I invite you to share your favorite Bible verses also!  🙂




I have been told that I am too word-y.

My writing is not simplistic enough.

That I should not have to use so many words to describe something.

I have been accused of C. S. Lewis’ term ‘Verbicide’ (the murder of words).

I should practice the skill of brevity in writing something short and succinct.

That wordiness kills

Getting a B- on an essay for no other reason than ‘too many words’

Try my hand at micro-poetry or limited short stories.

So I use my words to explain my side of the argument,

I am a Unhippopotomonstrosesquipedaliphobia

Meaning that I am a person who is unafraid of big words and how to use them.

I strongly believe that one has not truly lived until they have had an emotion that one cannot completely describe in one word.

That is why I must use many words to describe, in detail, my emotions and views on the world surrounding me

There is always more to be added,

somewhere to dive deeper into,

a new angle to perceive upon.

I love words

They are my passion

They are pieces of my beautiful creations

They are tools to explain anything and everything

They are my art form

So why should I not use them to their full capacity?

A person can have too many cats

A person can have too many ugly Christmas sweaters

A person can wear too much make-up

A person can have too much lawn to mow

A person can have too many children

A person can have too many clothes

But can a person have too much chocolate?

I feel the same way about words that most people feel about chocolate

I can never have enough words

So I say,

No, wordiness does not kill

Limitations on words do

It kills off exploration of the world

It kills off questions and answers

It kills off stories and legends

I agree there are times for words and times not

I value silence

I value conversations that have no need of formal communication

I value simplicity

But I would much rather use more words than not enough

and have something needed be left out

So to all the people who have had limitations on their creativity,

I give a battle cry to break your bondage

and write to your heart’s desire.





The Lamb

The stench of urine enveloped the room,

barely a room at that.

No lemon-smelling Lysol to be found here

No pretty nurses in white uniforms to be found here

No blue latex gloves to be found here

A stubborn donkey to be found here

A diseased rat to be found here

A restless lamb to be found here

And the Lamb of Calvary to be found here

The Lamb of God lay beside a lamb of the peasant

The Good Shepherd was the awe of the shepherds of the fields

This helpless infant would soon render

the rage of Hell helpless

at the cross

This helpless infant would soon render

the sins of mine washed away

at the cross

This helpless infant would soon render

the division between man and God no more

at the cross

This helpless infant rendered

the world changed

at the manger

Here was the moment where the Lamb of God

and the Good Shepherd met

Here was the moment where unto us a child is born

and death is defeated

Here was the moment where the Old Covenant is fulfilled

and the New Covenant is made


Where, O Death, is your victory?

“For to us a child is born,

   to us a son is given,

   and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called

   Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

   Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the greatness of his government and peace

   there will be no end.”

Isaiah 9:6-7




biblevector via / CC BY


A Modern Day Twas the Night Before Christmas

A twist on an old Christmas tradition with no offense intended.

It was the night before ‘gimme day’, when all through the house
Not a Windows Surface was stirring, not even a Barbie I Can Be Dollhouse;
The Hallmark synthetic stockings were placed on the kitchen table with not much care,
In hopes that presents from Walmart Lay-a-way soon would be there;
The rug rats were snoozing from their sugar-high in their beds;
While visions of X-boxes fought in their heads;
And Mom just finished presents all  in a wrap,
Snuggling in our king sized Tempur-Pedic for a short winter’s nap,
When out on the subdivision street there arose such a clatter,
I stretched and wobbled from my bed to see what was the matter.
In no way did I remind myself of DC’s The Flash,
I lazily open the blinds and got the wife’s backlash.
The moon on the small patch of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a reflection of midday to objects below,
When what to my sleep deprived eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a senior citizen so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than a Corvette his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the patio! to the top of the garden wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As drones with a newbie learning controller fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of electronics, and Santa too—
And then, as fast as I can Google, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I was thinking maybe Will Ferrell’s Elf was right, thoughts all buzzing around,
Down the chimney a red and white suited man came with a bound.
He was dressed all in synthetic fabric, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
An overflowing of Disney Frozen dolls and Legos he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a homeless person just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like Cover Girl lip gloss, his nose like a cherry!
His little mouth was drawn up like he had a bad cup of joe,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a E-Cigarette  he held tight in his teeth,
And the vapor, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I whipped out my iPhone 6 when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had no reason to get out my baseball bat or bullets of  lead;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings and more under the tree; then turned with a jerk,
And smiled like he won the retirement home Bingos,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew with no need of diesel.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

cuellar via / CC BY-NC

Uncle Jerry’s


Slushy, slushy snow sticks to my black dress boots

I walk in the footprints of the persons who have arrived before me

Little elementary boys running ahead of mothers carrying casseroles.

Puffy coats bundle up elderly ladies shuffle in from the cold

Christmas pins and red and green sweaters are like tickets to enter

The soft glow of lamps and Christmas tree lights reflect out onto the shoveled snow

I stomp off the cold fairy dust of winter onto the rugs and shrug off my coat

I drop off my coat to the jacket day care on one of the many wooden furniture made with love and care

Already hearing the laughing bellowing out from the basement

A smile adorns my face as I take the steep steps slowly down

Hugs and ‘look at how have you grown’ are pasted around

Packed together like Santa’s elves in the workshop in mid December we gather

Sisters, cousins, nieces chit chat in their respected corners

Brothers, uncles, nephews are heard hearty laughing

Kids are running around and jumping on the spare bed

Another family enters and everyone calls out again in various ‘how you’ve been?’

The host of tonight’s festivities gives a great whistle and asks one of the men to lead us in prayer

Heads bow and we breath as one focusing on the prayer that is quietly spoken into the big, big room


A call out to relatives who are elderly or with small children to go first

A line soon begins to form and snakes through the spare bedroom and out into the open room with boisterous conversations with their neighbor

My family is not a quiet family

I tag along with my Grandma and ask what is good to eat

My plate full I find a place to squeeze into a seat at the table to listen to the hilarious stories to be shared

Famous casseroles and pies melt in my tummy

Chuckles and jolly fun echos across the walls

It feels like the house is going to explode from how much love and cheer is packed into this home

My sister and I get a tap on the shoulder just like we knew we would every year at this time

My great uncle asks us to pass out the gourmet chocolates he buys for each family

A box of wrapped chocolate is past out with a smile and ‘thank you’ in return

The minute hand on the clock above the doorway seems to spin by too fast

Another tradition is soon to follow as another whistle is let out

Children and parents circle around a closet with a sheet across it

A fishing pole is handed over with a clamp on where the hook is suppose to be

The time old tradition of ‘fishing’ for presents on Christmas Eve at my great uncle Jerry’s

Toddlers are first and their mothers have to help them ‘reel it in’

They tear off the Christmas wrapping paper and find match-box cars or dolls

The ages creep up to the oldest which me and my sister and few cousins are of

Uncle Jerry asks who is next and his wife says and he answers back ‘She’s still doing this?’ and with a laugh ‘You can still get presents ’til you have kids.’

To me it’s more about the tradition and the memories than getting the present

I go out and show my grandparents what I got and talk for a little bit

Then comes my favorite part

This is what makes Christmas Eve my favorite holiday

This is what makes Christmas, Christmas

Another whistle is rung out and the voices become quiet after the dull roar it was a few moments ago

I lay in my mother’s lap on the floor next to my grandma’s chair

And my grandma begins to read

She reads why we are all gathered here

She reads why we are all saved

She reads why we are all so sure in the future

She reads what her father and mother instilled in their seven children

She reads the Bible

She reads Luke chapter two

She reads of a child’s birth that is unlike any other

And for those few minutes she becomes more than my grandma reading verses that we all know

She becomes someone who is leading by example of my Lord and savior’s thoughts of a Christian

Tears fill my eyes

Just soft quiet tears

I don’t brush them away because I know everyone else has them

And as the story finishes for the night, there is a moment of silence hushed over the families

Then the next part of the tradition begins,

My uncle begins to say, ‘This book has been in our family for a hundred years. It is torn and tattered, but the words still remain the same. This book was given to my father in 1915.’

And my great uncle begins to read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’

Even if I was to read it now, I would still hear his voice reading it to me

‘Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.’

And all the relatives who remember the recently passed away lively Aunt, in her honor act like they are ‘throwing up’ the sash

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Soon families begin to leave because the readings of the old, old books are what makes Christmas, Christmas and now are on to the other side of the family’s relatives

My family and I included

After good-byes and setting up the next monthly get-to-together we grab our dish to pass and hike up the steep stairs once more

I put back on my boots that now are in a puddle of melted fairy dust, snow

Wind rushes in, chilling the warm mud room as I open the door

I walk in the footsteps of persons who have gone out before

Slushy, slushy snow sticks to my black dress boots

I quietly say to myself, “This is what makes Christmas, Christmas.”



Grandpa Bedel 1

Picture of my Great Grandpa before I was born who used to be the host of the gathering!

From Nature to Thoughts: Resurfacing Some Old Poems

I am just ‘re-posting’ some of my old poems that I thought were especially good showing my free verse style of ‘Each Blade’ and my rhyming skills in my Villanelle poem ‘Like Lapping, Crashing Ocean Waves: A Villanelle Poem’. Enjoy!


Each Blade


Have you ever

just stared at the grass?

Sit or lay down

in the grass

This sea of green

and only focus on the grass

Not the birds singing

Not the wind blowing

Not the dogs barking

Not the bugs buzzing

Just the grass

Waving your hand across

the soft and fluffy

or maybe hard and crackly


The different widths

long and thin

short and wide

dark emerald

light emerald

easy to bend

stiff blades

All these differences

and unless you get down to their level

You’ll never notice


What if

God sees us this way

This sea of people

with different problems

and joys


and Fears

And God could just keep on walking on the grass

But He doesn’t

The Lord gets down to our level

He learns each and everyone of us

He learns our hearts

our dreams

our relationships

how we think

our stress

Knows us personally

Have you ever

just stared at humanity?

God has



hummyhummy / Foter / CC BY


Like Lapping, Crashing Ocean Waves: A Villanelle Poem


On this husk I show no qualms

But in my mind, I have confusing thought

Like lapping, crashing ocean waves, the thoughts keep on coming


Destroying my world while lighting my path, I let my soul burn

Peaceful raindrops and bullets firing, I am in the middle of the onslaught

On this husk I show no qualms


In my midnight prayers, “Give me direction,” I yearn

But when direction had come, I’m afraid, I may have fought

Like lapping, crashing ocean waves, the thoughts keep on coming


With all this life and it’s perceptions, will control I learn?

Will past experiences and soothing songs tell me what is to be taught?

On this husk I show no qualms


Not following the recipe, ingredients do churn

Mixing, mixing, mixing which should naught

Like lapping, crashing ocean waves, the thoughts keep on coming


I cannot show my questions and confusion for that would arise concern

So I will float in the space of my mind like an astronaut

On this husk I show no qualms

Like lapping, crashing ocean waves, the thoughts keep on coming






Remembering You

White polyester shirts

freshly painted walls

rhubarb pie

playing Rummie and Mexican train


coffee time

cancer treatments

cream pants

rough, strong hands

dead frog

clean house

heart felt praise

dinner parties

rushing about

powdered face

work clothes



Happy Birthday, Grandma

Hope your enjoying Heaven