Fools Gold in that bottle I held…Personified allibies

Just a shell walking in a lifeless form, a mannequin with barely a beating heart. Flat line waiting for the paddles, nothing could rattle my covetness for my numbness slathered

Dormant my personality lied, the zeal suppressed with alcoholics hallucinate hands. Reside in my own cell, an alcoholic hell. Sit in my own sin, wallow in my trademark venom

Never could pass the test, and any zest I may have had was laid to rest. Idolized the moisture of my enbrieated state. Filled with hate 

Fools gold in that bottle I held, meld into my skin. Personfied allibi, fake beyond each disguise. Lost with each sip, lucid goes as I got hosed

Swam with the sharks. Ravenous, blood thirsty. Needed that alcohol to occupy my soul. No holes, just bury all my secrets in my skin. Soak it up, let it be my end

It was my first thought upon waking the craving pulsating, and trampling my brain. It was the last thought upon laying my drunk head into a blackout state, death hovered 

This was the alcolohic me, numb me. Take away the pain for just one more moment. I hurt so bad inside. No where for God to reside. Hibernated, and bathed myself with my poison. My soul took cover, and demons hovered. Lurking in the night, I became as dark the tonic I drank. Rank with stank

Crippled by my own hands, hardened heart. Selfish, drowning in my own spite

Feeding off the juicy lies that came as day turned into night, and night turned into day. Spiced it up, made stuff up, my life was but a lie. Hiding in my bottle, this was the alcolohic me

No more hiding, no more numbing, no more running. For Jesus salvaged the wreckage I made of my life. Gave me hope, and took away my craving. He took my heart, and transplanted it at the cross. Carved my name, where His body hang in death for me on Calvary 

Layed the bottle down, and now I am unmasked and even somewhat vulnerable. For the love, laughter, and life I have now I would never trade it for a day of desperation lost. For I was off the grid, but now am found. In Him I abound. My masks are no more, my smile is real. In Jesus was my appeal….

Word Prompt: Spicy

Draw me into you…

Draw me close to you with your magnet pull, never let me go. Draw me into you

Rapturous is your grace. Allow me to always seek your face. Tug of war no more, the pull was too great. I gave up, and declared your name (Jesus)! Nothing has been the same. Fell onto gracious land, sinking at your feet. The most absolute liberation 

Stagnant is the weight of the worlds lure, I shall stay baited in your word. A snatch of your line, and I am kept by you. Your love for me devine. Caught by your fisherman’s hands, bringing me back to dry land

My focus is the cross. There I do not toss and turn burning with the days loftiness. Crafted by my maker. Magnetic is your pull, for The I uphold glory, and honor. My genetics lead me back to Genesis. The beginning of this magesticness.There I take root, at the beginning, and know with all my heart with my eyes fixated on you, my end will be that of what Revelation writes. My name in lambs of book of life. Oh what a beautiful sight. 

Draw me close to you, with magnet pull never let me go. Draw me into you 

Word Prompt: Magnet

Psalm 100:2-4

Serve the LORD with gladness; Come before Him with joyful singing. Know that the LORD Himself is God; It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; We are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Enter His gates with thanksgiving And His courts with praise Give thanks to Him, bless His name.

Let me take blossom wherever you may place me as potted…

The day I said yes to you Lord, swaddled at the cross 

Fervent I grow, bringing new seeds to water. Replanted you are my botanist 

Placed with the best of fertilizer, and fresh sprung waters, new shoots spring forth. Appendages, and fresh green leaf. Water seeps deep into my roots. Your miracle grow has taken hold. Pestgilence left with your hands of my repotting 

I am set within the proper light. Daily kept from mossy mold taking hold. Plucked, and kept pruned

All this for you my maker the botanist is to take measure. Pleasure in the blossoms that come from within in. Claiming victory you brought back another planted life from disease it was struck within 

Blossom, let me take blossom wherever you may place me as potted

2 Corinthians 2:14

Thanks be to God who . . . through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place

Photo Credit me; This Cactus flower was given to me by my husband Aaron. Named her Cleo, 8 months of marriage. We celebrate monthly with cards. He got me a plant, and shouldn’t have. Although very sweet! We are sappy (pun intended). ❤💏☝ 

Word Prompt: Blossom

That is no longer my reflection in the old red crusty wagon…

Photo Credit Lisa Ralph; Cheney Wa. This just taken yesterday as my husband I were diligently working on the repairs of our winter flooded basement in sale of our home. As I pulled back the molded covering of the window. Knee deep in mold from weeks of flooding. I saw this red wagon with rain pelting it without reprieve.  I was taken in capture, and mentally in write of what I wrote today. Always stopping to take pics. Him, “hon you working here?” “Yep, just always in thought as I am a writer that is my niche.”


Psalm 46:10

Be still and know that I am God

No longer my reflection in stale waters pelts

My heart as melted into you

No longer filled to over pours of overwhelming skeletons that lay in the rust of the wagons long seasons lodging 

Ripple effect pounds the morning rain in gain of led filled trenches

Be still do not quiver, take warmth. For every cast iron heart, can be made soft as the morning dew

You are an antiquie, like a fiddle in a dusty box ready to be plucked. Beautifully encased. Just need a little polish 

Stop looking at the old wagon hiding out under the stairs. Eaten away by weather’s ways. It is forecast no to rain today. The rust can be scraped away. Taken down to the medal, revamped for a show. For your show 

Go now look at your reflection not in that old red crusty wagon. Look up into the sky, and be still and know that I am God. Your beauty right here. Turn the dog earred pages, of your dusty book. Blow the dust, and take another look.