one red tulip

one red tulip
blooms in the hosta border
time alone with God

The pictures are courtesy of wpclipart.

Ellen Grace Olinger
April 2016 and April 2019
1,000 Posts Review

Vintage Picture and Two Poems

feeling new poems
fallow fields
waking up

(Time Of Singing, 2000)

This was a poem about beginning to write again, as I recall.

cup of coffee
by the water
this day to God

Now when I begin the day, I wonder what poems may be given. And when I am unable to write, I review my archives, as you know. And anytime, good to review if we can. We may be surprised to rediscover some old work. See some growth. Be encouraged to continue, try new ideas. And always beauty – I rest and look out the window. A different pace now, with peaceful gratitude.

Kite Drawing is courtesy of Reusable Art.

Ellen Grace Olinger
April 2016 and April 2019
1,000 Posts Review

only now beginning

only now beginning
late-blooming rose
on the bush planted
long before
we came here

Ellen Grace Olinger
September 2015
1,000 Posts Review

Image: wpclipart

early hours

early hours
of quiet and poetry
gardens overflow
and if some winter
my mind forgets
my heart will know

The LORD thy God
in the midst of thee
is mighty; he will save,
he will rejoice over thee
with joy; he will rest
in his love, he will joy
over thee with singing.

Zephaniah 3: 17 (KJV)

Ellen Grace Olinger
August 2015
1,000 Posts Review

three poems

groceries for Mom
fresh flowers
always on the list

in loving memory

raindrops decorate
my study window
outside new leaves grow
on the tree I watched
turn gold

Spring in town
dandelions bloom
by the hardware store

“Dandelion bloom” is courtesy of wpclipart.

Ellen Grace Olinger
May 2014
1,000 Posts Review

Winter Azalea by Charles A. Waugaman

WINTER AZALEA

There is a potted azalea in the living room
That feeds my soul.
All summer it planned for bloom.
Month after month it gave itself to this.
I should like to think
It gave itself to me,
Planned to reward me
For the scorching days of neglect
And the numerous hours it lay
Tipped on its side by the exuberant wind,
And crushed against the flagging of the patio.
But the azalea is not concerned with rewards.
It is content to be.
It is in being that it blesses.
I would like to give myself as completely to being.
I would like to feed souls.

By Charles A. Waugaman (1932 – 2010)

WITHIN The Circle of Seasons
Poems by Charles A. Waugaman
All Rights Reserved.

2003, Elin Grace Publishing
Collection copyright, Author
This book is out of print.