pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Category: Poetic Bloomings

July 13, 2025

REDEEMED

Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

REDEEMED

Not a trait from birth
nor my own making, but an
unmerited gift.

This gift describes me.
It labels and defines me.
It tells you I’m a

sinner-deemed-sinless,
ransomed by innocent blood —
a debt I can’t pay.

I’m liberated.
Rescued. Emancipated.
Bought back. Paid in full

by Jesus my Lord
with a love beyond measure
for me, and for you.

© Marie Elena Good 2025

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.”  (From the Holy Bible’s book of Ephesians 1:3,7, and 8.)

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June 22, 2025

THE LAST TIME JOY WAS HERE

Photo by Brigitte Tohm on Pexels.com

The Last Time Joy was Here

The last time joy was here
was in the center of sad
among the angry
in the midst of misperception
and the hub of hunger
during discord
in intense illness
and within the worst worry,
for my Lord never leaves me
nor forsakes me,
and in His presence
lies fullness of joy.

© Marie Elena Good 2025

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June 15, 2025

The Other Side

Photo by Chait Goli on Pexels.com

The Other Side

Can we count the blades
that seize carbon dioxide
and share oxygen

reduce pollution
even as they cool our air
and clean our water

aid noise reduction
provide wildlife habitat
support stress relief

offer a clean hill
for our children to roll down
(and we adults), and

furnish spongy space
for toddlers to toddle, while
tickling their piggies?

© Marie Elena Good 2025

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June 8, 2025

IF YOU FEED THEM, THEY WILL COME

Photos by Keith R. Good, who attracts and cares for our birds 

IF YOU FEED THEM, THEY WILL COME

Aging comes with what seems almost an expectation:  Bird beguilement. But my own love of birds began in junior high on Audubon Lane, where pheasants favored our backyard. And though those days have long passed, I can still enjoy the crimson male cardinal singing to his autumn-color lifelong partner. Our bluejays, if not for being common, would be coveted. I’m captivated by the bold ladderback and bright red splash on the red belly woodpecker.  The soft sorrowing song of mourning doves does not sadden me in the least. It makes me smile.  I giggle at the quirky little honk of the nuthatch as he darts up and down our trees. I find the cheerful little black-capped chickadee entirely enchanting.   Goldfinches, bright as lemons, titter as they sail the air as though on waves. When we hear the intricate trill of tiny wrens, we know spring has entered.  Orange orioles take our breath away with their arrival. And, of course, the minute emerald body and ruby throat of the hummer is electrifying. These and countless more captivate and delight us. They make our home, home.

Doing what we can
to attract the vocalists
that color our yard. 

© Marie Elena Good, 2025
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May 4, 2025

S*U*R*R*E*N*D*E*R

S*U*R*R*E*N*D*E*R

Me, a young girl in
a whirlwind of sudden change.
Strange new surroundings.

Unsure what is real,
or who, in this new-to-me
space, can be trusted:

One who stands rusted;
one too timid to answer;
and you, straw dancer.

They win me over
(especially you), and they
chauffeur me to Oz

because, because, be-
cause, because – because they’re there,
and they care. Deeply.

Green skin. Broom. Smoke. Threats.
And me, tricked.  I lost my friends
when I clicked my heels.

But to my surprise,
I see you in these eyes I’ve
always known, at home.

© Marie Elena Good 2025

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Image | April 27, 2025
Say What poem
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April 20, 2025

The Heart of Golgotha

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

“And heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world with love.” ~ Dyma gariad fel y moroedd

The Heart of Golgotha

Before He stepped foot,
He knew the path: Golgotha,
“the place of a skull.”

He knew it, for He
had formed it. Created it
with God His Father.

Before carrying
the crossbeam on this long path,
He created it

before man became;
before woman, born of man,
bore The Son of Man;

before the first sin
had ever been committed,
or life led to death,

and before you were
formed in your own mother’s womb,
He knew you, and He

chose you, and He chose
the horrific path He’d walk
and death He’d conquer.

It was a matter
of turning your face to Him;
of loving you first.

It was a matter
of bonding your heart to His,
for eternity.

© Marie Elena Good, 2025

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” ~ John 15:13

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April 13, 2025

As I Stop at the Light

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

As I Stop at the Light

She, with little to her name, fumbles a moment in her purse, rolls down her window, and hands money to the man with the sign she can’t read.  He thanks her, and says, “God bless you.”  All she understands is his smile, which she returns with a nod of her head.  She rolls up her window.  I place my hand on her shoulder.  She smiles at me, and I at her. 

And how could I have
immediately known her,
if not for the light.

© Marie Elena Good 2025

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April 12, 2025

Untitled angst


If not for nations
coming to my own doorstep,
I’d never know them.

I’d never have seen
they’re here to feed me the food
that comforts their souls.

I’d never have seen
they’re here to make my home both
strong and welcoming.

They’re here to make us
kinder. Gentler.  Here to make
their own lives better,

but also the lives
of all those who welcomed them,
and those who didn’t. 

I want to save them
from the strangling hands of this
administration.

If not for Donald,
would Vance, Rubio, Musk, Noem,
and all the others

be so emboldened
to heartless vindictiveness
and mercilessness? 

If not for clear signs
from history (you know which),
one might never know.

© Marie Elena Good 2025

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April 6, 2025

Untitled haibun-like firehose

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

this not a trickle but a wide-open firehose that is not meant to douse flames but to disorient the American people leaving us reeling feeling discounted disregarded overlooked overwhelmed overpowered and overthrown (overthrown?) unquestionably and categorically overthrown and now so unrecognizable my country looks far more distorted than even what I see through my wrinkled retina and make no mistake this firehose is intentional gish gallop in its inundation and devastation and

How can one stall a
strategic tsunami with
a spoon and a sponge?

(c) Marie Elena Good 2025

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