3/26 Through the Open Door

First topic message reminder :

Below are eight doors. Open each door and view the picture.

Write a poem of your style choosing, using one or all - if you're a brave heart and have nothing better to do!

Please include the door numbers at the top of your piece incase your poem is cryptic in nature. Remember, a *door* to one person is a [block of wood] to another.

Have fun!

BC Williams

Rail - way - line
Railway - line, Railway line
Snaking outward, onward whine
Tempting, entriguing, can't disincline
To follow tracks that must align
To who knows where, in how much time
Cold, hard steel, yet smooth, define
That sway beyond, then meet, entwine
Railway, railway, railway line
Running free through forrest pine
To you, my future , I consign
Bring forth horizons, new. Devine...

Lucie, beautiful writing in both these efforts. Your mastery of pictures through word choices is just so refreshing and livid with emotion. It's an honor to have you part of our writing family!

Hugs, bev

Thank you Auntie Bev ...
xx

Door #6

Into The Mist

It was early when she arose one morn.
The sun just rising over the horizon, new born.
A memory so slight in the back of her mind,
of someone calling her to come, if she were so inclined.
She slowly got out of her cozy warm bed,
toward the open window she felt led.
As she gazed out over the countryside,
a mist covered the land as if something to hide.
She felt drawn to walk through that mist;
to discover what lay beyond hard to resist.
Slowly she dressed as if spellbound,
While memory of her dreams seemed to resound.
Leaving her room, she climbed down the stairs,
drawn into the mist, what a strange state of affairs.
Opening the door, wondering if there was anything to fear;
slowly she stepped out where the mist had cleared.
Into the mist she walked, her steps slow and unsure,
the voice urging her onward whispered there is nothing to fear.
Onward she walked into a forest quite dense,
a great loving presence she began to sense.
Deeper she walked into the shadowy trees,
anxious to find the source of peace, what would she see.
The mist began to swirl and dance with a gentle breeze.
Rustling the sleeves and hem of her chemise.
The wind began to pick up and clearer she could see;
the wondrous colors of autumn leaves filled her with glee.
She came to a hill and began to climb.
Each step she took the mist declined.
The sun shone brighter here up on the hill.
The wonder of God's creation brought her a chill.
The beauty she witnessed was a gift to her,
Awed by His presence, she was unable to stir.
The voice that had called to her was our Lord up above.
To spend time alone with her was about His love.
So, if you are awakened by a gentle loving voice,
never take for granted that you are His choice.
To walk into the mist with God's loving hand in yours
is truly a gift from above and a broken soul He can cure.



© 3-31-12 by Robin Williams

There is such passion in all of these poems....I've enveloped myself in every story ..... a great start to my Sunday morning ....thankyou everyone!

Very well done everyone, I enjoyed them all ! Geez what a cute writing group !!!!

We, were given eight doors,
of which to write about,
where we thought they may lead to,
would we go in or come out.

Didn't quite know how to approach them,
how to address them all,
Should they all have a colour?
or look wooden, mysterious and old.

I decided to approach them quite differently,
tie them to some of my life,
include them in avenues I've taken,
some of which haven't been nice.

I'll start as you would with door one
after all thats where I begun
hope you will follow me through
please know that all of its true !

Door one to me was opened
after taking my first breath,
breathing in and out
expanding small lungs and chest.

Door two was at my kindy
where friends were newly made
the sun shone warmly over us
as in the playground games were played

Door three was to my high school
such trying miserable days
of bullying and torment,
the pain and vision stays !

Door four opened some happiness
I started fulltime work
met people who were friendly,
I felt I had some worth.

Door five I've left behind me,
as I left my family home
I loved them but they hurt me
happier pastures I hoped to roam.

Door six is to my heart
my husband found the key,
through it came my soul mate
full of love support and laughter,so happy he made me.

Door seven opened up motherhood
after marrying my love,
three beautiful children,
all healthy thank heaven above.

Door eight, I will say is my laptop
it has a door of sorts,
one thats brought new friendships
and kept my poetry in thought.

These eight doors all hinging
on some avenues of my life
some of them have closed now
though ones remaining carry life !


© by Sue McDonald.....19/04/12