Flame – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Ruddy Harbinger

Flame of morning Sweetly Blaze

Transcending the chill

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 120 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank you~

Spangle – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Spangle of Heaven

Singing in the deep Silence

Mystery Dancing

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 119 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank you~

Suspirations – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Suspirations

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Cerulean shades

Suspirations echoing

Time Heralding Time

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 118 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph by  Willi Hammes  Thank you~

Poem: “Move” (#guestblogger)

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For the strength in my bone,
and the ground that tics below
these feet of ours that stagger,
is neither what they used to be.

 

A. R. Frederiksen is a recurring guest blogger here at BnV, and her own writing blog can be found here, where she dabbles in flashfiction/poetry and reflects over the, much elusive, ABCs of writing.

Intangible – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Crystalline Embrace

Suspended moment of time

Intangible Hush

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 117 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Wallpapers Craft. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank you~

Horse Power -#GuestBlogger #Author Marilyn Collier

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People wonder how I can write with so much confidence about horses and their treatment in the western portion of my stories. We had riding horses, a pony, and one horse that my husband used on round-ups while in Phoenix. I grew up on a farm where horse were used more for the farm plowing and planting than the tractor. One incident has been etched in my mine.

When I was in the primary grades, I attended Gray Consolidated School in Gray, Iowa. It was about five miles from our farm. The mode of transportation was by bus over graveled or graded dirt roads. The school bus driver during my second grade was a man named Mr. Nicely. This struck my seven-year-old brain as something that brought happiness.

When he made the stop to let my youngest brother and me off, he would make sure we were safely across the road before turning down the dirt road to continue his rounds. As an adult I’ve often wondered why he bothered waiting for us to cross the road as no one was going to be driving any faster than 30 or 40 miles in 1944. Some people were still driving Model A and Model T autos. No new vehicles had been built since the start of World War Two. Many farmers returned to using their tractors with metal wheels and that had steel lugs as treads. Any farmer that had a newer tractor with rubber tires ran the risk of not being able to use it if a tire were damaged. There were no new tires for tractors or autos. I remember some of the tubes on my oldest brother’s car looked like one big patch.

On the first day of school, I told my mother about Mr. Nicely’s name and how he watched us cross the road. She informed me that I needed to thank him nicely for such thoughtfulness. At the age of seven, one tends to be quite literal in following your parents’ instructions. The next day, I rehearsed over and over what I would say to Mr. Nicely. Of course, he followed the same routine.

As I stepped down from the bus, I said, “Thank you nicely, Mr. Nicely.” I thought he looked a little funny turning red so rapidly.

Later, at the PTA meeting in Gray, he told my mother about my thanking him and his struggle not to let me see him laugh. He was laughing when he told mother. I was slightly miffed when I heard it as I thought I had done the correct thing and adults laughing meant I had not.

All through the year, Mr. Nicely piloted the bus without incident. March in Iowa was like most:  Snow, then snow melting, rain, ice, more snow, warmer weather and melting snow. It would be a challenge going to town to buy groceries and everyone made sure they had sufficient gasoline for farming by keeping a gasoline tank. The gas for the farm equipment was purple and delivered by truck. The allotment was quite high, but if any farmer were caught using purple gas in their automobile gas tank it was instant arrest. Like the rest of the populace, farmers had to use ration stamps to purchase gasoline for going to town or church.

By the end of March there were but a few lumps of snow left in isolated spots. The ground was spongy from melting snow and the plentiful spring rains. It was warm enough that mother let me wear knee highs instead of the hated long cotton socks.

As Mr. Nicely turned the corner and started down the dirt road without gravel, the bus slid into the ditch. No amount of gunning and trying to move forward or back made it budge. Mother appeared wondering why we hadn’t returned to the house immediately.

“Tell Mr. Nicely I’ve gone for my husband,” was her command.

Papa appeared shortly as he drove down the lane and onto the graveled road with the iron monster that was our tractor. This thing had metal wheel and metal lugs on the wheels. Once hooked to the front of the bus, Papa put it into gear and tried to move forward. Nothing happened.

Mr. Nicely requested to use the telephone. We did not have one. He was directed to go over to the neighbor’s house a few yards down the road and use theirs.

“I’ll go hitch up the team while you’re doing that.”

Mr. Nicely shook his head and headed for the neighbors. Few believed that horses could do what a machine could not.

Mr. Nicely returned hanging on to the seat of the neighbor’s John Deere with rubber tires. Mr. Fredrickson had purchased it in 1941 prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor. They looked at Papa coming with our team as a madman and hitched the John Deere to the bus. The results were the same as with the iron monster. The bus remained mired in the red clay and dirt mud.

“Guess I’ll have to call the school, but thanks anyway. I thought sure it would move it.”

Papa brought our team over and proceeded to hitch them to the bus. Mr. Fredrickson and Mr. Nicely were shaking their heads at such folly.

A more mismatched team would have been difficult to find. Molly was older and slower, part Clydesdale and just as large as one. Betty was younger, but still less than middle-aged for a farm horse. Her background was part Morgan and part quarter horse. That meant she was at least two hands smaller than Molly. Her chest was a Morgan’s wide chest, but she had slimmer legs. If things went too slow in the fields, she would move the wagon before Papa had finished with the hay or corn.  His powerful voice would be clearly audible for incredible distances as he yelled obscenities at her in both German and English.

Once they were hitched to the bus, Papa slapped the reins over their backs and shouted, “Yo up, Betty, Molly, up.”

The two horses leaned forward pushing their chests into the harness and felt the weight behind them and the resistance of the muck around their hooves. I watched their haunches descend in unison and the muscles tightened in their back haunches. Then their necks stretched out and it was like watching the stored strength in the muscles flow forward. Their steps were perfectly matched as they moved slowly, inch by inch as the bus began to move. Even to my eyes it was strange. I’d never seen them pull so evenly together.

This time Papa kept his voice lower and guided them and the bus up onto the road. Both Betty and Molly were covered with foam and their muscles were quivering while they waited to be unhitched.

The “thank you” and the “I didn’t believe it could be done” were profuse. Papa nodded and grinned and took Molly and Betty back to the barn for a rub down and probably an extra ear of corn or some other treat.

I had never been so proud of Betty and Molly and I never forgot that lesson in horse power.

My Bog Posts:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4618494.Mari_Collier/blog

Mari Collier Blog was first set up to publish my memories of growing up.  This was for my daughter and son and their families.  Then more of my relatives loved the posts for it included their Grandparents and fathers.  Somehow I have continued to post bits of my life there.  Occasionally I do post about my novels and anthologies and the struggles and processes of publishing and marketing. Perhaps the best way to explain my weird writing is my website. Such a bucolic upbringing gave plenty of time for my imagination to venture into far places.

http://www.maricollier.com

I searched diligently for a picture of Betty and Molly, but could not find one.  I have included a picture of my husband ready to go on a roundup in Northern Arizona.

When Storm Clouds Gather (#guestblogger)

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I love a good storm. I love watching the clouds roll in from a distance and seeing the lightning flashing, and waiting for the thunder to roll.  I love seeing them build as they move closer, higher and higher.  I love the pre-rain smell that fills the air when a thunderstorm gets near.  And then they are here, and the air is filled with rain and lightning and thunder – a magnificent display of God’s power.  It is one of the most awesome things in all of nature.

When I look at clouds, I think about the storms that can come into our lives.  They come in all shapes and sizes and can affect us in so many different ways.  Sometimes, we can see the storm directly ahead of us, heading our way, but we cannot see a different road to take:

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As we listen to the voice of God in these situations, He may tell us to stay on the straigh road, and not turn to the right or to the left.  The Israelites were told this as they went through the desert (Num 20:7), or by Jesus in the New Testament (Matt 7:14).  There are times that God knows the battle is before you and He wants you to have faith in Him to see you through.  These times are precious because they really test our faith.  Our inclination is to avoid the storm at all costs.  It looks dangerous.  But if we listen to God’s voice and trust in His strength to get us through, the blessing that is one the other side is well worth it.

Then there are times that storm looms over us.  It is big, and ominous, and scary.  The clouds surrounding the storm hide its intensity, but you can see danger in their formation.  You do not know exactly what is going to happen, you just know this storm, this trial, is going to hit at any time:

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You face it with courage and an unmoving faith in God, like a tree planted by the water (Psalm 1:3).  A tree relies on the water for its sustenance and strength.  It sends those roots down deep to gather the water and feed the rest of the tree.  When it is close to the water. It does not worry where that supply will come from, and it will not be moved from that spot.  We need to be like that tree, relying on God to give us the strength to go through the storm, not to avoid it.  The storm is right there, ready to burst, and we praise Him regardless, because we know by faith He will see is through.  He knows what the storm will bring, and He is more than able to help us get to the other side, where the blessings flow.

There are storms that make a lot of noise way off in the distance.  They look like a danger, and we start to worry long before they get near us.  And we hear the thunder rumble, and people tell us we are in for a battle when the storm gets here.  The storm, or trial, looks frightening, and could be devastating when it arrives:

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We are told not to fear, or worry about tomorrow (Matt 6:34).  God holds all our tomorrows.  Only He knows what the next hour will bring.  The storm could dissipate and never reach you.  I have watched thunder storms stop on a dime and give out.   I have also seen them part and go around on all sides.  We never know.  So, when that storm is approaching, pray.  Ask God to stop the storm, or to move the storm, that is coming toward your life.  He stilled the waves and the wind (Mark 5:35-41), and He can calm your storm before it even gets to you.  Just ask.

Then there are the storms of life that affect your friends, your family, your neighbors, and, yes, your enemies.  They loom off in the distance and all you can see is the looming clouds.  You are not sure who they are affecting, or what the intensity is, but you know there is a storm over their lives, ether because they told you, or you see the signs of a storms:

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This is a time to pray.  We are called to be intercessors (Ezek 22:30-31. Eph 6:18).  This is the highest calling I believe.  To be a prayer warrior for God is a blessing to so many people often those we do not know.  If we are listening to the Spirit, He will tell us people who need prayer throughout our day.  Do you ever have names pop in your head in the middle of the day?  This is the Holy Spirt prompting you to pray for them.  Never, ever doubt that.  How should you pray?  The bible tells us the Holy Spirit will give us the words as groanings that cannot be uttered (Rom 8:26).  Allow God to work through you, and just open yourself up to pray.  He will help you.

And on the other side of that storm is always a blessing.  When we go through trials of faith, we grow in our walk with the Lord.  We become stronger, ready to face bigger trials.  But we also are ready to help others face theirs.  We are more prepared to help someone else who is going through the same storm in their lives.  These storms are meant for our growth, not out harm.  But if we try to get through them on our own, they will probably cause harm.  Either that or we will not make it through, and give up.  If that happens, we will most likely have to face the same storm again.  It is so important we rely on God’s strength to help us through.  He will never fail us.  And we will see the blessing when the storm passes.

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Tower of Time – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Tower of lost Time

Frozen in Forgetfulness

Memory sleeping

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 116 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer.  Thank you~

Expanse – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Barren ‘scape of blue

Touching Barren ‘scape of white

Together Alone

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 115 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer.  Thank you~

Shimmer – #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Solitude of Morn

Delicate shimmer Smiling

Escaping the chill

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 114 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer.  Thank you~

A Brief Pause

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When someone sends you roses, not once, but TWICE on the same day, what do YOU do?

I stop everything and go Thank Them.

Yep, HE did, so I Am 🙂

I will be taking a Brief Pause to spend the weekend with the ONE I LOVE, and shall return sometime next week.

Many Blessings to all of you while I am off being Blissfully Happy 🙂

 

~Morgan~

The Subdued Night #RomanticTuesday #ValentinesDay #Love #Poetry

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Subdued Night

Shiver with Me in the Subdued Night,
As Breaths of Midnight Turn Softly Round,
Dream in the Satin Ebon Light
Of Eternity Singing without a Sound.
Tremble Beside me in the Delicate Hush
Of Twilight Painted in Lavender Tone,
Linger with me Beyond Life’s Pale Rush,
Amidst the Shadows, Together, Alone.
Sigh with me in Harmonious Song,
Of Gentle Splendors Unknown by Day,
Gild in Romance what E’re stood wrong,
With Your Exquisite Hands, Brush Cares Away.
Dappled Moonlight Around Us Dance,
While Love Boldly Stands Upon Glorious Chance.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by: Moonchild-Ljilja at Deviantart.com

Torn – #RomanticTuesday #ValentinesDay #Love #poetry

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Torn

Whisper not
Your Love for me,
In Shades and Shadows
Tempting Darkness,
Speak not in
Whispers too soft
To Hear,
Or in Brazen tones
Comprised
Of Starkness,
Kiss this Patience
With Tenderest Mercy,
For All
These Eyes have Seen,
For All
This Heart has born,
Spin with me
In Dizzy Splendor,
Before
The Night’s Revelry
Is Torn.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by Fernandina Goncalves

The Shades of Time – #RomanticTuesday #ValentinesDay #Love #Poetry

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Shades of Time

Sweet and Soft in the Shades of Time,

I Dreamed Your Name,

You Whispered Mine;

Twilight of what once Fervently Blazed,

Now Breathless in Your midst,

I Sigh,

Amazed.

Long the Silence has Stolen my Voice,

Echoes forgotten

By Bewildered Choice

As the Shades of Time, Like Bleak November,

In tones so Hushed I scarce Remember,

Call My Spirit,

My Heart,

My All,

Lingering Fragments like an ebon pall;

Yet as Heaven Wonders,

The Shades of Time Renew;

Your Heart Recalls Me,

And Mine remembers YOU.

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Photography by: Ebrusidarportrait at deviantart

Love Blooms – #RomanticTuesday #DailyHaikuChallenge

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Love Blooms Endlessly

In spite of Adversity

Beckoning all hearts

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To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see The Original Post from Day One

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Day 113 / 365

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer.  Thank you~