Novice Journal

A little this – a little that!

The “Joys” of Raking

Raking has always been a bit of a mixed bag to me. I love running around in “leaf rain,” but collecting it can be a bit of a pain. And although raking requires ZERO skill (yay!), it becomes a tedious task all too quickly. So I’m faced with the dilemma of whether to rake everyday or hope no one looks at the lawn till the day before it first snows….or I could twiddle my fingers and hope the snow comes early to cover up my procrastination. Choices….choices….

Here’s a poem from the famed Robert Frost himself.

Gathering Leaves:

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who’s to say where
The harvest shall stop?



War & Hope

As many of you know, one of my favorite things to do (other than snapping photos of everything in sight) is to write poetry/lyrics. Poetry seems to come easier to me than lyrics do, but every now and then I’ll work to practice my lyric skills just to kill time in hopes of getting better. Sometimes I do a little thing I call “lacing” – basically “lyric tracing.”

My father is a very good artist, and when asked how he got so good at drawing, his typical response is “I traced a lot when I was a kid.” While I normally shrugged that golden nugget of advice off, one day it got me thinking – could the same be applied to other types of art? Thus, lacing was born (or rather, just put into practice by me.) First, I pick a song who’s tune and lyrics I find interesting, and then I trace! I work to write a song within their boundaries. So I “color within the lines” so to speak. In no way do I think I own any of the songs I lace, or try to make some sort of profit from the product I create. It’s just a simple, fun activity that helps me study music 🙂 Now, why did I just take forever explaining that to you? Well, because I’m about to show you an example, of course! I wanted to make sure we were both on the same page before I bombard you with words. Enjoy my take on Shinedown’s If You Only Knew (totally different lyric meaning, and sadly without the epic rocker voice.)

War & Hope

Prison bars

They can’t contain the thoughts that slowly eat me away

The policeman’s car

Could drive my mind a million miles north and I’d still be plagued

I can’t remember the last time the good guys won

Under the flaming sun


Sun (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The clock strikes ten

And I’m here again

Fighting a burning chest with fire till I melt down

In need of some snow

To rain down some hope

My bones are charred and weak

I’m losing my reasons to fight anymore

What am I fighting for?

A widow’s cries

Resonating, tears are her only source of silver


Kills every superman in town, fear never fails to deliver

I hurt for the child with no shoes

The man who lives roofless, hope at this point seems hopeless

The clock strikes ten

And I’m here again

Fighting a burning chest with fire till I melt down

In need of some snow

To rain down some hope

My bones are charred and weak

I’m losing my reasons to fight anymore

What am I fighting for?

Am I the one to fight this war?

The oppressed and the orphaned grieve my soul

Emotions shout, not sure how to help them out

The clock strikes ten

And I’m here again

Empathy running deep, I mourn for all suffering

All I really care to know

That there’s a glimmer hope

Refuge is reaching out

I’ll clean up my wounds just to fight a little more

Fight a little more

For you I will fight a little more

Declare to the world this is war

Because it’s worth fighting for



Ever felt so afraid of something, that you needed some talking off the ledge? Ever had to be the one talking to yourself? Here is an except from a journal page of mine, in which I was experiencing both things. I hope you all find it encouraging. Plus, the picture below is one I took a few months ago. Can’t remember if I posted it up already, but it seemed to fit nicely with this post 🙂 Enjoy!


I think I’m done fretting now
I’m ready to give this all into Your hands
I’m done wrestling these emotions to no satisfactory end
I’m done dragging bags full of tears
I could spend all day in fear and cloaked in anxiety, but what good does it do me?
What good has it ever done me?
Is what I’m pursuing, is it life or death?
Even if it is, I’m a disciple of Christ
I win in the end because I get to be with God and Jesus
Am I afraid of looking bad?
Even if I am, my true friends will never leave
Even if everyone on the face of the Earth scattered and disowned me
I know that Jesus will never abandon me
Am I afraid of failure?
Even if I am, in the end, the heaviest failures produce the most uplifting successes.
Failures help me connect, understand, appreciate
The failures keep me humble
Besides which, what are “failures” other than “try outs”
So if I don’t make the cut, what will happen?
An inner apocalypse?
I think I’m better than that
At least, I’m striving to be
So I think I’m finally done being ruled by the look of situations
I’m done judging my faith on circumstances
I’m ready to give the reigns back to God
And to be at peace




Here is/was my entry to this week’s Picture it & Write, hosted by Ermilia. First, here’s the picture I was presented with.

Now what was I to do with that? Well, after poking around at some ideas and then reading Ermisenda’s entry, I came up with the following poem. (Because remember, everything makes me think of a poem.) 😉

You are immeasurable
Every word you speak is in-valuable
Your worth is inestimable
And your actions reflect that

None can hold a candle to you
None can buy or sell your soul
Sun-kissed, flawless, you’re life’s solace
No matter what you do, you’re always whole

I encourage all of you to take a swing at either writing a poem, or a paragraph of fiction in relation to the picture. Once you give it a go, I promise you it’ll be fun! (And if you need ideas, click this link to see all the wonderful entries at Ermilia!)


I Just Missed You

Hubble Spies a UFO

(Photo credit: NASA Goddard Photo and Video)

I Just Missed You:

The weight of the sun’s rays

Weighs heavy on my skin

Tempers flare up at every corner and I easily give in

My phone is hanging on a thread

Made one last call and then it’s dead

And the distance grows between our beating hearts

Can’t talk now got a meeting

And we’re meeting up at ten

Between home and work it’s a blizzard – still got those bills to send

I hear a knock from the flip side of my door

With the chaos inside it’s easier just to ignore

Steadily the chasm widens, now we’re miles apart

From sunrise to sunset

Taking promises unmet, toss em’ in with all the rest

Riding a train, passed your town a few times – stopping never crossed my mind

It’s safe to say

I’m thinking maybe I just missed you

Yes, that’s it, I just missed you

The city’s gotten quiet

Quietly killing me inside

The hustle and bustle blew away on the double with no warning sign

Winter is sitting on your shoulder

Since when did your eyes get so much colder?

Seems like you live on the opposite side of the planet

Pity and rage consume me

All consuming are my shamefaced thoughts

Should’ve stopped by, could’ve said “hi” now I face the chopping block

Paying taxes from a lacking friendship

Caught up in life and now this has ended

Clearly we’re light-years away, and our ships cannot be landed

From sunrise to sunset

Taking promises unmet, toss em’ in with all the rest

Riding a train, passed your town a few times – stopping always on my mind

It’s safe to say

I’m thinking maybe I just miss you

From sunset to sunrise

Tears are rolling from my eyes, but this trial should not be a surprise

Riding a starship and I’m coming for you – after all I’ve put you through

It’s safe to say

I’m thinking maybe I still miss you

I’m thinking maybe I still need you

Searching until I find you

Yes, that’s it, I’ll find you


I’ve got a cold, and it’s hot outside

Brian Reid Tissue Box_1338

Brian Reid Tissue Box_1338 (Photo credit: Brian Reid Furniture)

I’ve got a cold…and it’s hot outside. Frankly, I don’t find that very funny. So whoever passed this headache/sneezing/coughing/sore throat to me, I’m asking you to take it back. I’ve got things to do, other than be taken over by the sleep goblins. I’d appreciate you acting with haste.
Thank you, but no thank you,

P.S. I wrote these two mini poems to give you a feel for what you passed on to me. 😉

1st Poem:
Fills every crevice, slows every thought
Overtaking movements commanding them to stop
Gradually it fades, just as slowly as it came

2nd Poem:
Chest constricts while roughly hammered
Once it starts it’s hard to stop
Usually comes at the most unwelcome time
Getting much worse before it leaves you be
Happens once the pollen puffs up in the Spring


Not About Wings – love these lyrics! :)

Here are some sweet and simple lyrics to a song by Downhere. Need a pick-me-up? Here’s the cure 🙂

Not About Wings

Wake dove, stretch your feathers,
Worry not love, how far you could fall.
Fly now, darling find how;
A broken wing can feel the best to soar on

Flying cranes

Flying cranes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s not the perch you’ve climbed to reach,
But the broken wing that’s made you meek;
that’s when He lifts you high

Believing is not about seeing,
Faith is not about reaching,
and on this journey I keep learning,
Flying is not about wings

Sparrow trapped by a window,
every resource spent for just one goal

It’s not by work you find your escape,
but in your defeat when you seek his face;
that’s when He lifts you high

Believing is not about seeing,
Faith is not about reaching,
and on this journey I keep learning,
Flying is not about wings

Regret & Resolve

It all started late yesterday afternoon when my twin sister and I sat down to write some poetry. Instead of just picking ideas out of thin air and hoping at least one of them would manifest into….something, we changed things up a bit. I chose a picture I had taken (those of you who have been around for a while on my blog will recognize it!) and we wrote a poem based off of the picture.

Now to clarify the poem some, remember, we were writing off of what the picture implied. For all of you animal lovers out there, know that I stand right along side you, and that I think both free-roaming wildlife and zoo’s are great! (That’s where I took the pic anyway!) Yeah…just felt the need to be extra clear on that part. And now for the photo…..

Aren’t owls adorable?!?! We wrote what we like to call, “twin poems” because they resemble each other but are unique in their own way. Plus, we’re twins so it only seemed appropriate! Enjoy!


The moon shines bright the stars stand high


Freedom to fly

Utter bliss

A mist hangs well below the trees


A distant scream

Blinding lights

I shriek and cry at what’s to come

Burning lungs

The trap is sprung

Panic’s here

My feathers feel the burning sun


I could have run

Trapped for good

And now I sit here in this cage

Final phase

Ending my days

In regret


Peering through straw-hole sized hope

Feeling old

This place is cold

My mood is winter

Seeing red and breeding contempt

Failed attempts

Many days spent

Struggling for freedom

I pine for taintless forest air

I am scared

I am stuck here

Is this my end?

Stronger each day yet freedom’s strict

Learning tricks

Cannot predict

How my fate’s played out

The moon shines bright the stars stand high


Freedom to fly

My heart’s resolved


I hope you enjoyed the poems! For anyone who wants to join in, I have a mini challenge for you.

Random Ray Challenge (or RRC):

(Everything looks better in bold, doesn’t it?) Alright to here’s the challenge! Take a goooood look at the picture I used to write these poems. Then, try to describe the picture using only one word! I’d love to hear what you think. And as a bonus, you can try making up a quote for the owl to either say or think. Here’s an example entry – from your’s truly.

Word: Tired

Quote: “That last meal was a doosey!”

Have fun everyone!



Truly Rich

I saw a few posts yesterday that used the word “rich” or some variation of it. Somehow that sparked the idea for this poem 🙂

Truly Rich

Is richness to be measured by the length of one’s hair?

If so, then we know that

Rapunzel’s the queen and that brushes are vital

That gold lies within each costly shampoo bottle

To pile it high or let it slide cross the floor

Is the length in our hair what we truly live for?

Is richness to be measured by the volume of voice?

If so, then we know that

Opera’s and Saruman dominate our domain

That the silence and stillness would rot our poor brains

Megaphones and microphones would be placed in our throats

Would poorness be revealed once someone got a cold?

Is richness to be measured by the money one spends?

If so, then we know that

Shopaholics hold tight to the meaning of life

That objects are worth every quarter and dime

We should buy into all things that flash on TV

Does this mean that they’re worthless, the things that are free?

Is richness to be measured by height and weight?

If so, then we know that

Bodily harm is alright as long as we’re pretty

That those who look different don’t deserve any pity

Thus we follow the photo-shopped, the nipped and the tucked

Do we want our waists trimmed and our naturalness sucked?

Is richness to be measured by the peace in our hearts?

If so, then we know that

We’re not born at the finish line, we run since whistle’s blow

We are not born perfect, there is room to grow

The flawed and the hurting, that’s each one of us

The rich are the ones who see faults, yet still love

Hoard of ancient gold coins

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)



Congrats! We’ve all made it into May!

Here is a poem I wrote for the amazing, Picture it & Write – hosted by Ermilia. Feel free to add your own contributions to this fun activity here on their blog. (Plus, you might want to go there to check out the pic that inspired this poem!)


The mighty baker
Rolls up His sleeves
The kitchen light illuminates
The dough that’s soon to bake

Flour spreads out
Upon a blue counter
The pound of thunder comes
He kneads until His work is done

The oven tray
Goes into fiery oven
And flour is left in many clusters
To our eyes, they’re clouds in Summer