pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

LOVE SPEAKS

 

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When love speaks,
It speaks softly.
 
When love listens,
It listens intently.
 
But when love sings,
It ascends to the heavens,
 
And enchants its very Creator.
(C) Marie Elena Good, 2010
Originally posted at “Across the Lake, Eerily”

OF WAR AND WORTH

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New York Times, Jan. 2, 2017
Political post by Sheri Fink and Helene Cooper

“Give me a pack of cigarettes and a couple of beers, and I do better with that than I do with torture.” ~ James N. Mattis, Retired General, and President-elect Donald J. Trump’s nominee for Secretary of Defense

 

A young boy’s torture,
Received
Then imparted,
Swells the hell inside –
Wills famine of worth
Gives birth to young man
Young soldier
Acquainted with torture
And callous of heart.

A young boy’s nurture,
Received
Then imparted,
Renders a tender
Defender of life
Where strife matters not.
Young soldier, familiar
With self-control
And depth of soul.

Young country at war
Divides her own shore.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

SONNET FOR MY DAD

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My father earned a living teaching youth.
He shared with them the music of his core.
He showed them how to honor life and truth,
And gave his time to all who graced his door.

My father is a man to emulate –
A man who holds to ethical ideals.
And even now, though years have slowed his gait,
They haven’t marred the crux of what he feels.

My father’s love is deep; allegiance strong.
His charity continues to abound.
He taught me well to judge what’s right and wrong,
To gather stars, while keeping feet aground.

And so it is I pen this gift through tears –
I thank my God for granting us these years.

© Marie Elena Good, 2012

HOW SILENT?

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Photo: Marie Elena Good

As cattle low and donkeys bray,
A worried man begins to pray.
“She’s weary, Lord, and birth pains loom,
We need an Inn, but none have room.”
A stable with a bed of hay
Affords them with a place to stay.
 
She lies amongst the bleating sheep –
Where there she finds no peace for sleep.
The hour of our Savior’s birth
Sweet angel voices sing His worth,
While Satan howls – himself, enraged
In knowing that a war’s been waged
A war the Babe Himself will win –
To free us from our senseless sin.
 
Beneath the sacred star-lit night,
How silent was that holy night?
 
 
(C) Marie Elena Good, 2010
 

Attention Deficit Christmas (to the tune of Jingle Bells)

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

Dashing through the thoughts
Of an A.D.D.-fraught head.
Presents to be bought;
Writing this instead.
Pretty snow outside
Calling me to play
“Ought to/want to” soon collide
Now, which will win today?
Hey!
Cards to write! Sweets to bake!
Stockings to be hung!
Presents to be bought and wrapped, and carols to be sung!
Hey!
Cards to write! Sweets to bake!
Stockings to be hung!
Presents to be bought and wrapped, and carols to be sung!
Dashing through the mall
In a state of frenzied fear.
Busy! Aren’t we all?
It’s that time of year!
Who did I forget?
Did I check my list out twice?
Then I break into a sweat
For paying retail price!
Oh!
Cards to write! Sweets to bake!
Stockings to be hung!
Presents to be bought and wrapped, and carols to be sung!
Hey!
Cards to write! Sweets to bake!
Stockings to be hung!
Presents to be bought and wrapped, and carols to be sung!
As I sit and write
And I work to make this rhyme,
Joy creeps in despite
I’m running out of time
To do the things I must
Like write my Christmas cards.
Instead I sit and look nonplussed –
Give judgment my regards.
Oh!
Things to do! Things to do!
Running out of time!
Cannot pull myself away from working on this rhyme.
Hey!
Things to do! Things to do!
But I’m not uptight.
Oh what fun it was to write a Christmas poem tonight!
Hey!
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2010

WHAT GOD IS THIS?

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Nativity by Gertrude Kasebier c 1901

Following the angel’s appearance months ago,
A young woman – mystified, yet willing –

Subjected herself to ridicule

While readying for the baby whose presence

Began making itself evident.
 

Then came the night
On the heels of a long and arduous journey

In humbleness of setting and witness.
 

How prepared was the young woman’s weary body
And emotion-laden heart

For the miracle of birth,
Let alone this Miracle of Birth – this holy night

That culminates in pulling her newborn son to her breast,

Offering life-giving milk

To the very One who created life,

And came to offer it eternal.
 

What God is this who would choose this humble,
Implausible means

Out of love for a sinner?
 

My God. 

My God…

 

©  2013, Marie Elena Good

BUT, WAIT!

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Photo credit:  Everett Collection

 

I wanted

I needed

I begged

I pleaded

I coveted

I must

I craved

I lust

I hungered

I yearned

I hankered

I burned

I pined

I panted

I thirst

I ranted

I longed

I itched

For what I pitched.

© Marie Elena Good, 2009

LONGING

longing

I long for a world
Not riddled with sin
Where the earth is kind,
And the people therein.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2009

POSSIBILITIES

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Creation is fluent
in the art of possibilities.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2009

LOCKED LIPS

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Image credit:  Dreamstime.com royalty-free images

In case you ever wondered:

She lives, breathes,
And has had her share of heartache,
But
Enjoys life to the fullest.

She is married (happily)
Christian (joyously)
Nonna (blissfully)
Aging (gracefully?)
Content (mercifully)

And yes,

you were her first
kiss.

P.S.  She no longer wears braces.

 

© Marie Elena Good 2009