Poetic Inkwells and More

A Lighthearted Poem about Love:)      by Clara Mitchell 11/23/2024 I fill my inkwells as often as I water my plants. Both need my attention to live and grow. My quill rests between stanzas and words. A new thought lifts the quill to find the inkwell. The quill at one time provided hours of writing. One molted feather still in flight as words appear on the page. The black ink is bold and cold. I hope to make up for this loss with colorful words.  The ink remains a constant black that easily stands out on my paper. The dark ink cloaks my words, While the colored ink gives rise to be seen. I add several splashes of color across the page. In the end, the colors do not carry the poem. Readers embrace the words. The first stanzas words are like a melody Of words that lead us into a dance. Our hearts pound and skip a beat. Yes, we all can fall in love with words. Cupid has arrows. A poet has words. Either way, love has made a way.

  Spiritual Comas by Clara Mitchell         (Mattew 9:12) I heard the Word of God go inside of me. It was like an IV drip, drip, drip. I am still awake but the sounds Of life seem far away. The Physician's notes Simply read--Induce coma. Spiritual comas do happen. My Physician has a plan. It has been years now. Same doctor at my side. The IV continues to drip new life. I am coming around now. I could hear sounds of excitement. The Physician stood smiling over my bedside. I was able to recognize Him. How long have I been gone? I was unaware of how spiritual comas exist In tandem with the Holy Trinity. It is a surprise revelation Of Revelry-- ecstatic love. The Physician left the room. The nurses left a change of clothes. By this time, I was wide awake. The walk into the hallway Is a short one. I was outside the building now. Unable to return as before. My Spiritual coma is ove...

  Short Love Story-- Love came late for me. I had to turn a blind eye And by doing so --love passes by. Love shed a tear for me.

  Boxes          by Clara Mitchell 12-26-2023 I bought a mattress in a box. I am traveling again. The mattress purchase reminds me Of when we put God in a box. When we open the box for the mattress It unfolds to a much more alarming size! I think God wants us to think of Him Outside of the box. I know that I have stuffed gifts and talents Inside of me, I am the container, a box if you will. I tried to open the goods But needed help to do so. The helpers were busy-- I soon discover many We are living their dreams in a box. How do we open up After being contained so long? What treasures are stuffed? Now at a later stage in life, I am unpacking some boxes That I have carried for some time. God was helping me to open up. My talents began to expand like this Serta mattress. The size and fit gave me pleasant dreams. God gave me a talent to write. It has been a long time in the making. My boxes did not truly unfold until lat...

  The Window of My Heart by Clara Mitchell Look into my heart! What do you see? Why, I see many things: people from many nations, Lands afar, like a globe of continents. What you see is a missionary!