Tag Archives: Poetry

The Storms of Life

31 Aug

A Prayer

My Take

DiVoran Lites

The Storms of Life

Dear Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,

We are your beloved children from now and through eternity

Your loving care is an umbrella to keep our spirits up.

You empower us to follow your lead.

You are Divine Encourager,

Comforter,

Spirit of God. 

Thank you for the delightful times you give us.

Thank you for always listening and always answering.

You hydrate our souls

While you protect us through the storms of life.

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Waiting for the Library to Open

7 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Nerds of the World Unite.

At eight fifty in the morning

Before the Library Opens

People gather silently, one by one,

 To stand and wait:

Man in tee-shirt, woman in pony tail,

Care giver in scrubs,

 Grandfather and child.

Let us ring around the rosy and be merry, 

“Here we stand like birds in the wilderness,

Waiting for our food.”

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Times

23 Nov

My Take

DiVoran Lites

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Hear, Here

16 Sep

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Let me sit on my porch

In the morning 

In a town where true friends live

Let me hear the call of the freight train.

And a neighbor rooster who crows.

And thinks he is always king. 

I hear an airplane

Droning West. 

I see the birds 

In our backyard

Flying, flittering landing,

Taking off.

Taking baths

Chirping from a 

A telephone wire

The mocking bird and the blue jay

Steal one another’s calls 

And Sand Hill Cranes fly south.

Photo credit for all pictures in the above post- Pixabay

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Available

26 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

By DiVoran and Thea

DiVoran

When I put down my pen to scratch Thea’s ears.

I’m available.

When I wake up and pet her down at the end of the bed,

I’m available.

When I carry her in my arms on a tour of the house,

I’m available.

When I get out her play mouse on a long, soft line 

I’m available.

When I hide treats in the folds of her soft red blanket,

I’m available. 

Thea

When the back porch needs to be protected

I’m available. 

When I offer her my ears to stroke,

I’m available. 

When she needs to be awakened from a big bad dream,

I’m available. 

When she needs purring to remember that that life is good,

I’m available.

When she needs the light of my bright yellow eyes,

I’m available. 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Keep Your Eyes On The One Who Is Invisible

7 Sep

Louise GIbson

From the Heart

 

Photo by Mark Daynes on Unsplash

 

 

As a child, who did you go to for answers?
As a teenager, who was your “go to” friend?
As an adult, do you have a mentor who helps you
find answers you seek?
You can engage the wisest person in the universe
as your councilor to the end.

 

(Without council, plans go awry,
but in the multitude of councilors.
they are established. Proverbs 15:22)

 

Move in the direction of life, not fear.
Stand on the promises of God, our Savior.
He promised to always be near.

 

If you are feeling “in the dark”,
look up to “The Light.”
Keep your eyes on the one who is invisible.
He will guide you safely through the night.

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First Cigarette

9 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

 

I saw Daddy’s cigarettes behind the bar.
And thought of glamorous movie stars
Holding cigarettes in dainty poses

One Camel won’t be missed
But what if Daddy catches me?
What if Mother is disappointed in me?
I drew one cigarette from the pack
Snatched a book of matches
And ran the two blocks home from
The restaurant we owned.

Hunkered down in the tall grass
That hid me completely
Without thinking of the smoke
That must rise into the blue sky
Without thinking of the tinder dry grass
Catching fire and burning down the house
I took a drag
Coughed…coughed…coughed
Ground it out in the dirt.

Didn’t smoke again
Until eight years later
Beauty school in Albuquerque
And a big contest to test our hairstyling
So nervous
At Toddlehouse my teacher, Monique
Gave me a cigarette
Here this will calm you down
Is dizzy the same as calm?
Monique gave me a whole pack
Take these home and practice

My young husband and I shared the habit.
After three years I yearned for a child
I worked until my seventh month
Not smoking because even the smell
Made me nauseous
I stopped then, stopped for years
Through the birth of another child
And the move to Space Center country
And I started again.
By then we knew smoking killed people

One day Bill asked the Lord to
Take away his craving for cigarettes
He pulled the pack from his shirt pocket and
Threw it in the trash.
He never smoked again
I prayed too and eventually
God helped me quit
Neither of us ever smoked again
Nor wanted to.
Thank Jesus for His saving grace.

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Black

12 Mar

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Painting by DiVoran Lites

 

 

I like black, it goes with everything,

Makes me look pale and ethereal

Don’t like my coffee black, though.

 

Mother hated black because…

She had to sew a slew of tiny black buttons

On her Mother’s funeral dress.

 

Red was out for Mother, too,

Especially for church.

It was the color for floozies

 

I wear red to church

I wear black to church

It goes with everything.

 

I like to wear white.

I had a white nylon uniform when I

Worked in the beauty salon.

 

I washed it every night.

When I was pregnant I wore a halter

So my shoulders could help carry.

 

Black is the color of sleep

White is the all-color-ness of purity

Red is the color of our blood

Christ’s blood, too.

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Tea Party

5 Mar

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

 

 

My friends love tea parties and so do I.
Grandmother Marie left me her
Collection of fancy teacups and
Mother Dora gave me her creme1940-s
“Ovenware” Tea Pot with flowers on it.
Mother told me all the stories in her world.

 

I heard about when she was a young mother
With two small kiddies. Every day
She would cook oatmeal on a coal stove
Like the one she was cleaning
Just before she went into labor
And had to go to the hospital g-r-u-n-g-y…

 

In those days the men went away
And the women held down the fort
Dora kept a clean, uncluttered house
After every meal.
She washed and dried the dishes
She gathered eggs,
Milked the goat
At five years old, I got to sit on the front step
And drink a glass of hot foamy milk
Dora fed chickens and gathered eggs.

 

Sewed clothes, repaired clothes
Washed clothes
Hung them on the line
To be examined by the neighbors.
And Grandmother Marie.

 

Early every morning
Mother hurried with her work so
She could dress up and
Walk her children down the block to
A neighbor or neighbors
Wanting to save her own cleaning effort
She couldn’t stay long
She had letters to write
To Daddy who was at the front.

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Geese

26 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

I don’t know much about geese.

I know they are big birds with attitude.

I know they are wild or domestic.

I know there are a lot of them in some places.

 

I know Daddy bought a goose

To fatten for Thanksgiving

And kept it in the shed.

I was supposed to feed it,

But I thought too much and let the goose out

Daddy sent the kids to look for it

All we found was a hut woven of willow branches

Among the willow bushes

Next to Grape Greek.

Inside we saw a mat on the floor

And a picture of a woman

With an old fashioned hair-do

Propped nearby.

When we got home,

Daddy was perturbed, but didn’t punish.

 

In a big lake in Orlando where swans live too

Geese challenge people for the right of way

And you have to stand up for yourself

After all, God gave dominion did he not?

 

In that park we saw a woman filling

A plastic bag with large white eggs

Goose eggs or swan eggs?

And taking them to an official looking car.

Where were they going?

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