Court room waiting game
I hold to Blue Heaven’s dream,
God, I am father.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Carol Bridges and writers in Poets and other communities.
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. I was a little chilly and wishing the fireplace would already be ablaze with a welcoming fire and maybe some of my favorite cookies and hot chocolate on the table as if someone besides the Airbnb host knew when I was coming and had this special moment planned.
By Carol Bridges3 years ago in Psyche
What’s wrong with a song or poem with rhyme? I find my mind pondering, wandering, wondering much of the time. Unbelievably, inconceivably… to some, rhyme is worse than slime or grime!
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Poets
The Man Who Came To Help At 4am The road was empty, silent, frozen still, At 4am where breath turned into smoke, My hands were shaking on that broken wheel,
By George’s Girl 2026 4 days ago in Poets
Hi All: I hope that you enjoy the following poem. It demonstrates a time when God showed up in my life in an unexpected and miraculous way when I needed him most.
By Tiffany Gordonabout 22 hours ago in Motivation
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.