Thursday, June 30, 2011

First Grown

flesh of my flesh
first born
first grown
first gone 
to a far away land

have no say then
no hand of protection
no well thought strategies
of mother knows best

cheering on 

flourish or fail
crisis or calm
falling or flying
as you will

flesh of my flesh
grown, thriving
living without me
living within me

Come see the wonderful words of poets at One Stop Poetry and sharing for the first time at Books & Culture (A Christian Review).

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

I love a dog
who loves me back
curls ‘round my neck
like a cat in puppy love

I love a mutt
who thinks he’s a labrador
tirelessly retrieving
faithful and proud

I love a braveheart
all ten pounds
standing down deer in the night
tormenting chipmunks by day

I love a circus dog
Leaping to my trusted arms
then clenching jaw
to swing
impressing far beyond
stupid pet tricks

I love a dog

Maxwell Smart
my dog

Patricia Spreng

Sharing the love of pets with Peter Pollacks One Word Blog Carnival.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Stop In The Name of Love

don’t force her hand
to  ‘win’ a game
that can’t be won
by cheating

when the Enemy
is the banker

don’t go

children dig
in empty pockets
to pay the price
for fools

who throw away
life savings
on Charleton’s

promises poured
down drains
the legacy


hard issues
with harder
issues still

throwing blame around
like bed sheets
fault lines

as though no one
can see
your cracks

come back

to any of us
who call your name
as deafness laughs
and nods its head

who of us have not
turned the wrong way
down the
One Way street

turn around

while selfishness
and pleasure
lay bare against
the sin

where deepest needs
gather in darkness
to mock and spit upon
the need already met

stop in the name of Love

following the map of lies
deceiving is believing
now heart pretends
it never loved

beloved bride of youth
maybe she’ll survive
but  who  protects the children
when blessed home is robbed

by opening
the door
when darkness
rang the bell


patricia spreng

divorce is so far reaching.  written in grief... helplessly reaching out for a loved one who will not return, and who may never read this, could it possibly effect change... for anyone? I don't know.  God only knows and He is the author of forgiveness, healing, and restoration... the story isn't over.

Friday, June 24, 2011

      as living water

Drink freely

     Breaths of heaven
           fill the soul
     as thankful thoughts
               rise up
                    to stir the trees
                                   in a symphony
                                                     of praise

Patricia Spreng

"Between Water and Sky"  Al Fresco by Alison Jardine

Sharing this poem today at One Stop Poetry for Friday Poetically with Brian Miller who is featuring the beautiful art work of Alison Jardine as she inspires the wonderful words of poets.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

rainbow dreams
wash away
like pastel chalk drawings
on sidewalks in the storm

reality melting
as tear drops fall through
helpless fingers
to earth

only to land on
innocent petals of life and beauty
never meant to carry
thorns of broken promises

their weight in gold
worth so much more
than any pot found
when chasing rainbow's end

tears of loss
roll off these
the weight of broken promises
that petals cannot carry

Patricia Spreng

Written as an expression of grief for dear friends and children suffering through the pain of divorce, who find it is quite impossible to grieve in silence or public after the tragic death of a marriage.  Sharing this today at One Shot Wednesday.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Wet Wood

I spent two summers here as a life guard and boat driver. 
I can still smell the aroma of the wooden boathouse 32 years
later.       Photo courtesy of  Young Life Saranac Village
Tupper Lake, NY

lay beneath expanse of night
as summer sings her song
the rising of each 
dancing breath
above the earthy smell
of this wet wood

lay over me
Your midnight sky
glorious covering of stars
water lapping underneath
tucking in my soul
with heartbeats
of gentle waves

breathe deeply then
this lullaby
returned to You in praise
a sweet aroma rising
my closing eyes inhale
crystal memories born again
from this wet wood

Today, One Stop Poetry  features lessons on writing free verse from Fireblossom.  
p.s. Dear Shay,  I do not presume to have learned or applied said lessons.  The posted result above is only a reflection on the student, not the teacher. =). It’s hard to be an unlearned, unsophisticated poet…. but that’s a poem for another day.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Photo by Chris Galford
Color me blue
spray away
and tell me
what you see
Oh say can you see

but how can blue be me?
a color cool
as water falls
pouring sighs of paradise

with shoes of suede
songs sung that way
little boy
his cows astray

how can blue be bad
when brown eyes
wish to turn it
and hearts swim
in eyes of it

Blues are hues
Of strength and beauty
why aren’t the blues
called gray?

One Stop Poetry featuring the wonderful words of poets as inspired by graffiti photos taken by Chris Galford in Lansing, MI

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Streets are uneven when you’re
head slammed against the
old soul laying therein
altered faces in puddles ugly  

what’s in a
when thinking stops and lore
what truth is there to

perspective is a funny
streets are uneven when you’re

Posted in response to a prompt at One Stop Poetry where they are featuring the lyrics and songs of Jim Morrison. Visit One Stop Poetry to see the wonderful words of poets. 

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

the path...

Someone pulled the milkweed
at the hospice house...
helping out today

I walked among the garden flowers
wondering about the monarchs
listening to the water flowing
in the pond

and then I saw it, the pile of milkweed
I knelt down on the path
and began to search the leaves
for monarch eggs to save
there in a pile on the brick walkway

the path that grieving people walk
before their loved ones die

the path that people take
when they need something to do
like pull weeds
and think about anything other than
death and sadness and pain

so the milkweed got pulled today
it's alright...
it's alright.

He must have seen me through her window.
He came out wondering
what I was doing
collecting leaves and inspecting them
the way I was.

George.  I rose and smiled at this man.
Jenny was inside... dying young.
Oh God. I work for hospice.
As though I just remembered where I was.

But You are here.
You brought me here
today, for George.

And there are seven
new monarch eggs here
to save
for George

He was the one
who pulled the milkweed.
And that's how we met
and how he heard
about Your monarchs.

And now he will see Your picture
of hope and new life and rebirth...
that Jenny will be alright
that she will transform
and he will transform
because You hold all things in Your hand

Oh thank you my Love,
You are here
on this path
where someone pulled the milkweed today.

Sharing for the first time at Walk With Him Wednesdays at A Holy Experience
Fish Wish

The problem
as I see it
I’m not a fish who flies
for if I were
a fish who flew
I know exactly
what I'd do

I’d swim a wild lap
or two
and take a great big breath
then launch myself
right out of here
and fly like real birds do

I want to feel
the fresh blue air
the wind beneath my fins
hear songs of little bluebirds
and barks of
Rin tin tins

My walls are glass
my dreams are big
content no more to do this gig
swimming round in circled lair
look out birds
I’m outta here!

Patricia Spreng

Today at One Stop Poetry you’ll find the wonderful words of poets.  Thank you to Mr. Peter Marshall for hosting this and providing the space to dream. 

Sunday, June 12, 2011

White Wings

Photography by Rob Hanson
White wings
of feathered softness
come with me to sleep
take me there
so gently
to fall in
whispered dreams

Reflections of
sweet memories
float within
my mind
they come and go
so freely
inside my wispy dreams

in peace
and quietness
they rest
calming all the noise
with silent

White wings
of gentle strength
carry me away
lay me in
my wistful dreams

Patricia Spreng

Today at One Stop Poetry, the beautiful photography of Rob Hanson is featured as a prompt for the wonderful words of poets. 

Friday, June 10, 2011

The Big House

A big white house
with green shutters
and a white door
Don’t  you see it?

It was there before time began.
Isn’t it beautiful!
You don’t see it?
It’s right there!

What you see is just an old door.
What you see is what most people see.
But not what everybody
wants to see.

Kj (age 11)

Good eye Kara!! I love what you see!
We're spending time with Friday poetically with Brian Miller at One Stop Poetry who inspired me to take the morning off of work, so my daughter and I could play… er, write (maybe she'll be a 'playwrite' when she grows up!)  I showed her the picture and asked her to write something about her memory of this cool garden door we found in Buena Vista, CO last summer. The words are hers, I put it in stanza form.  (Brian… could I have a note for my boss?)

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


Each of the 85 roses had a little card tied to it with a ribbon
and a special memory written on it.  She saved all the cards.
I touched your handwriting today
the closest I will ever get to you

on this earth

tracing each letter
where your hand had been

my fingers wet with tears
between the lines

crossing ‘t’s and dotting ‘i’s
yes, you were here

I didn’t know then
that I would never know now

your presence

I wish I had 
your hand


Patricia Spreng

One Stop Poetry for One Shot Wednesday … come and see the wonderful words of poets.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Good morning
hatching from your egg
you're unaware
what you'll become
upon your leafy bed

 take your time
no hurry now
my little sleepy head

we'll watch you here
with awe and cheer
until your wings you spread

Patricia Spreng

Did you know that the very first meal a monarch caterpillar eats is the very shell from which it hatched just moments before?  Every single time.  How does it know to do that? Such fun!

Sunday, June 5, 2011

I think I can...

no life was found

Photo by Rob Hanson 
Click on photograph to expand for full effect so that you see "it" too. 

 they called it dead
it lay on frigid bed

reflecting doubt
and death they cried
‘it can’t be done
don’t even try’

they walked away in pride

but one small seed
thought home was found
and all alone
stood it’s ground

where hope and strength
began to grow
in frozen air
where none could know

one small idea
potential seen
against all odds
had just turned green

Patricia Spreng

The photo was taken by Rob Hanson, whose photography is featured today at One Shoot Sunday, providing inspiration for the wonderful words of poets.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Flood Light

Flood me
with Your presence
bring me
to your light…

too intense
for shielded eyes
there I
lose my heart

wrapped in warmth
your rays
of tenderness

when I follow
when I fail

letting go
I sink
into the depths
of You
and soar

patricia spreng

Find other wonderful words of writers today at Friday Poetically at One Stop Poetry.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

The monarch butterflies have arrived!  She has laid her eggs gently in the milkweed patch.  My heart delights in knowing what is to come.

The steadfast love
of the Lord
never ceases
His mercies never
come to an end

They are new every morning
New every morning
Great is Thy faithfulness
Oh Lord
Great is Thy faithfulness