pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Love

Ears to Hear

Photo credit: Keith R. Good
She sits in silence,
listening for God to speak.
But she hears no one.

She sits in darkness,
watching for God’s appearance.
But she sees nothing.

She grasps at the air,
trying to feel God’s presence.
But she feels nothing.

She raises her voice.
“Abba! Father! Where are You?”
He, soundlessly, speaks.

She closes her eyes,
absorbing His attention,
knowing who He is. 

Her heart hears His voice
in both silence and sound. He
gives her ears to hear.

She opens her eyes
sees Him everywhere, in
all He created.

The air wraps her up,
blankets her in His shelter,
fills her lungs with Him.

She knows she is His.
She sees and hears and feels Him.
She knows what she knows.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

High School Years, Snippets with Mom and Dad (Naples Beach, 1970s)

“Naples Pier in Naples, Florida on a clear sunny day.” IStock photos
I pick up sea glass,
rub it between my fingers,
this heart-shaped God gift.

My dad finds twin shells,
quietly pockets them, then
makes earrings for me.

Sunset walk with Mom.
She tells me, “You’ll soon prefer
a romantic walk.”

Walking home from Pier,
something stings me on my foot.
Dad carries me home. 

The sun dips itself
into the Gulf.  We give a
standing ovation.  

An early-sunrise-
beach-all-to-myself morning.
A short bike ride home.

Just curious how
many dads would carry their
teenage daughter home.

Turned out Mom was right.
And part of me holds regret
for lost walks with her.  

Wonder if the next
to find the heart-shaped sea glass
saw it as God’s gift. 

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

TOO LATE (a waltmarie)

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com
I ignored your advances. I made you beg my
pardon,
while you strained to gain my affection …
but I 
couldn’t encourage candor. No, not when you
meant to
lead me to altars and vows, and expected to hear me 
say I 
do, while my panic clearly cried I don’t
love you.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

Inner poem reads:

pardon,
but I
meant to
say I 
love you

(Disclaimer:  While most of my poems are based on my life and thoughts, this one is completely fabricated.)

REDUCED

She drips eloquence,
but her needs, desires, and core
are not free to speak.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

#seventeenintwentytwo

LIFE, COMPOSED IN THREE PARTS

Photo by Keith R. Good
Part 1. LEGATO

Since love and laughter
sang the notes to her childhood,
she tuned in to life.

She felt melodic,
harmonious, and ready
to embrace her song.

Part 2. ARPEGGIO

A child bride’s ballad,
meant to mirror her childhood,
ends in broken chords.

A sharp turn taken,
her imposed solo becomes
a balanced duet

as her new partner
discards the shards, and the two
play in consonance. 

Her children (her heart),
born improvisers, still long
to dance their own dance.

Part 3. CODA 

Moons rose and set. Her
parents grew sickly; her song
became elegy.

Still, her partner hums
his strength, and her Composer 
breathes psalms in her lungs.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

My Years of Teaching

Water for Ishmael American Schools wall banner, painted by Andrea Price

There are the teachers
equipped with knowledge, and the
skills to impart it

There are the teachers
with a passion for learning
that is contagious.

There are the teachers
who delight in (and well-wield)
books, maps, and whiteboards.

I am gifted with
none of that. But I love, and
love assists learning.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

NONNA REE’S PRIORITIES

The older I get, the older I feel
It’s hard to run. It’s hard to kneel.
Can’t cartwheel as in childhood.
(But, truth-be-told, I never could. 😉 )
Consistently can’t find my words –
Can access just perhaps two thirds.
Can’t run too fast. Can’t hear when asked.
My skates and skis were long-since trashed.
But I’ll still race you on my bike,
and take a walk or even hike
and talk and laugh and draw (kind of 😉 )
and listen well
and deeply love.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

The Heart of It All (fibonacci)

Home
Is
The state
Of my heart:
Heart-shaped Ohio.
“Ohio, The Heart of It All,”
Is more than its slogan, to me. It’s a certainty
Born of dappled sunlight, porch swing swishes, marching bands, sure love, and lingering laughter.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

(Bummer. My final line, written in 21 syllables, breaks up on site.)

JUST YESTERDAY

I loved gardening
beneath sun and deep blue sky
in sensible shoes.

I loved Keith as he
painted old cheap plastic pots
‘seventies Corvettes.

I loved filling them
with flamboyant petunias,
modest marigolds.

I loved settling in,
sipping black coffee, watching
red robins rummage.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

THIS IS MY KEITH

I love, “I love you,”
daily coming from your voice –
confirmed in your eyes.

I love, “I love you,”
emitting from hand-drawn hearts
on scraps of paper.

I love, “I love you,”
proved in daily selfless acts,
both little and vast.

I love, “I love you.”
But I treasure the daily
non-verbal “I do.”

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Happy Anniversary, Keith.  30 years of daily thankfulness for the gift of you.


In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 20 – Writer’s Digest (Day 20: Write a love and/or anti-love poem.)