Joy Defined

Joy is bigger than happiness Joy is the smile of remembrance at a loved one's grave Joy is the beauty sustained when the flower wilts from the approaching winter For joy is not dependent on outward circumstances Joy is consistent contentment even when you're weeping © Rachel Svendsen 2015

The War of A and B

A and B do not agree And neither will repent In separate rooms they sit and brood Refusing to relent For A's been hurt by B you see When cruel words were flung So A retreated thence to think Upon the words that stung Oblivious to bleeding wounds B shrugged and shook his head B... Continue Reading →

The Storm

The winds raged. I won’t say the volume of the storm didn’t shock me. It was a lot more than I expected when I set out with only light grey skies above me. Just a little rain, I thought, no more than a drizzle. Besides, the sea is small and I’ll be safe on the... Continue Reading →

The Ancient Willow

A while back, I wrote up a post entitled What Good is a Roll Without Butter? about my dear brother-in-law Jonathan and how we composed a poem over the course of two days via text message. Another while back, my husband, brother-in-law, and I were out on a jaunt in the little ol' white Honda, and composed... Continue Reading →

Merry Christmas Little Angel

Merry Christmas Little Angel, Looking down from Heaven above. Mommy's arms are aching for you, Wishing she could show her love. I know you have a sweeter view, In a painless, perfect place. Half my heart is happy for you, Half just wants to touch your face. God please hold my baby for me, Give... Continue Reading →

Amazing Alliteration Adventures: Act I

“Three thespians.” Sally slowly slid sideways, unsecuring her seatbelt. “These perplexing puzzles are positively peculiar.” She sighed. “This murderer’s MO might make most actors migrate.” “Chief will be chuffed,” Sybil sneered. “He hates histrionics.” Sally shook her head. “He despises depravity deeper and the paperwork pisses him.” Wilma waved from the walkway. “Detectives,” she said.... Continue Reading →

Thanksgiving Carnage: A Sonnet

I see you laying there flat on your back, Your limbs splayed out against a metal slab. Unclothed, exposed, cold skin and muscles slack, Hands poke and pull and nip and tuck and grab. Your innards are removed and in their place, Some cruel heart replaces them with fluff. With brush in hand they paint your pallid face,... Continue Reading →

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