Wednesday, December 31, 2014

New Year's Eve 2014


Small literary journals and faith-filled publications are
mostly a labor of love--for editors and contributors.
On this last day of 2014, I wish to send out a shout
of appreciation to some careful, caring editors: 

Martin Lammon
Rosemary Deen            
Megan Jones
Jacque Day
Phoebe Bosche
Lois Dorschel
Christopher Heffron
Anthony Harris
Rose Marie Berger
Becca J.R. Lachman
Br. Paul Quenon
Cynthia Brackett Vincent
Virginia Howard 
Anna Leahy
Florence Homolka
Julie Wakeman-Linn
Bronwen McShea

You might want to check out these publications:

Arts and Letters, Thema, Perceptions, Sojourners,
Section8, Commonweal, Healing Muse, Camas,
The Potomac Review, Broad River Review,
Owen Wister Review, Raven Chronicles,
Lalitamba, Off The Coast, Ellipsis, New Madrid,
St. Anthony Messenger, The Aurorean, TAB, and
Stone Highway.

Blessings to all in 2015

Monday, December 29, 2014

Monday, December 29th 2014


Sometimes our face betrays our attitude, 
other times it is our voice or posture.
Do you ever watch these indicators before
approaching someone new?

Maybe there is a lady who is waiting in a 
line next to you. Maybe she is holding a
small dog and you catch the eye twinkle in 
that small furry face. 

You and the lady begin a conversation. 
Amen. . .  
and thanks be to God for all His creatures,
which lead us to Love.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Christmas 2014

O Holy Night . . . 

For the Christian world this is the night that
Love and Hope entered our weary world.

Love has a way of spreading good will to all--no matter
their belief. And so tonight is about Love.

May we all feel it wherever we are. 

Merry Christmas!

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Saturday 12-6-14


Maybe you will agree that it is time for a poem. . .

Today we celebrate the birthday of a poet who
made trees the center of his much quoted poem: 


I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; 

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair; 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree. 

                              Joyce Kilmer
                                  © Poetry
                                       August 1913