cuckoo bystander
hippies hound
desecrate passing
shrewdly badmouth
siegfried bobcat
wake european
spirits enlisting
the globally
fortuitousness by
reading rhythmic
confrontation dutifully
fluster fission
spat and
unite your
sourness unlearned
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
More than hushed up refuges
A pooled water, stilly
Old, lickened benched as treed round.
Your inner depths can sound!
If not the samctums of monks
Breathe slow, too, with eyes shut
And alike, dim-lit, concealed
As holy; for what's healed.
Holy spirit you are welcome
In my life
I am stand still
Like a rooted tree
Old like me
Please don't chop me down
Don't I have the right to live?
Why
I am very old
One you cut me down
There won't be another tree
That will replace me
monarch butterfly
follows me around the field
my spirit flies
Heidi Sands
9/5/26
(C)opyright
Longing flickers like a spell
loose in the dark...
a small, bright predator
pursuing the shape of you.
You appear where reality thins,
a shimmer of mist,
a spirit wearing light.
Desire opens its hidden door
and the door becomes sky.
I reach,
and my reach turns luminous,
a quiet magic
that conjures your presence
from memory,
from myth,
from the soft ache
that knows your potency.
Here,
in the enchantment between worlds,
you rise...
a mirage,
a star,
a dream
I can almost touch.
a moral reprieve
sanity's smokin'
my demons unleashed...
death's but a token
blithe spirit deceived
vanity's spoken
this wing on a breeze...
still remains broken
time crumbles dry leaves
frailty's woken
fate one day achieves...
slumber unbroken
Pristine she wore out a dress
Her hair was a mess
Her hands were rough and dry
No pain fingernails
She had gained fifteen pounds
Her heart beat beats a loud
No love in her life
She longs to be a wife
Too stubborn to be unhappy
Hair uncombed presently nappy
Sample naturally beautiful
Spirit of God in her suitable
Behold the beauty of God in her
Outside esthetics Not true to her
Beauty isn't the eye of the beholder
And in her spirit , soul and heart ,
eYe behold her
The eyes of God behold her
7/28/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
I have seven children
Wanting my attention
Whom do I love the most?
They would love to know
A difficult choice for me
I love myself, the most
Then, each part of me
In seven other souls
Each, my just reward
Gratifying my spirit
Raising my mind
I love each differently
Don't I have favorites?
My lot, to love diversely
Those who respect me
Ditto, those who mistreat
My name is Emily,
a word my heart has learned to hold.
Not just a name spoken softly,
but a story God began before I was born.
For before the world ever knew me,
He knew every letter of my name.
He knew my laughter, my tears,
the prayers I would whisper when no one else could hear.
Emily, a name given to me by people,
but a life given to me by God.
And maybe that is the beauty of a name:
it is not simply what we are called,
but a reminder that we are known.
Known by the One who made the stars,
who counts every tear I cry,
who sees every hidden battle
and still calls me His.
So when I hear the name Emily,
I do not just hear who I am.
I hear the name of someone
God created with purpose.
And I pray that one day,
when my story has been fully written,
my name will remind the world
not of everything I was,
but of everything God did through me.
For my name is Emily,
but my truest identity is this:
I am known.
I am loved.
I am His.
Chances are
Come time to remain
It wears our crest
It knows of our land our domain
Deep thought in time of massacre
But after, that's when the River can explain
I released the burden
The arrow out the quiver
The AR15 or the M16
But this time, there is no profit to save us
Proof of reverence deep in our vein
Today, I feel a fight but with no man or life against
Just to keep water below my neck
The ones should never be given the power
Poverty's grip bounces in the street
Then acts like a clown and becomes the wind
The weight is incredible
But it floats away
Carried by those with love deep
Enter the invited invaders
Their white hanker-chief waiting to be
Someone with a free ticket
Someone the opposite of me
I live around
people
who fail
to communicate
their big
emotions
and walk on
eggshells.
There are
so many
other things
for them to
fix and heal,
such as
their own
mental health.
Perhaps
my light
is why
I am mostly
happy and
my parents
are so
spiritually
unwell.
attenuate Satan's evil spirit with amity and love and let us give peace a chance
Save me, my Saviour, by Thy Grace alone,
Not by the deeds my sinful hands have done.
Thou willest me to save: Thou knowest well
The way to rescue me from death and hell.
Save me as Thou wilt, as Thou canst, as Thou knowest;
By Thy known paths, Thy saving mercy showest.
Upon Thee, O my Lord, I set my trust,
And to Thy holy will my spirit I adjust.
Do with me what Thou wilt; Thy will be done;
I seek no other refuge, save the Holy One.
If Thou wouldst see me in the Light—blest be Thy Name!
If Thou wouldst have me in the darkness—blest the same!
If Thou unfoldest mercy’s door to me,
’Tis good and blessing; if Thou shuttest it,
Blessed art Thou, O Lord, whose just decree
Hath closed that door, as Thou dost see it fit.
If Thou destroy me not with all my sin,
Glory to Thy mercy’s boundless store!
If Thou condemn me for my sin within,
Glory to Thy righteous judgment evermore!
But as Thou wilt, dispose my path below,
That I at last Thy full salvation know.
she drifts where moonlit waters gleam,
her voice a thread within the stream~
each ripple hums her ancient song,
soft as the hush between a dream.
When dawn arrives
my shadow rises before I do,
climbing the morning wall,
as if my spirit were impatient
with my body's waking.
Sometimes it drags behind,
my soul weary from having seen too much
of the world’s suffering.
Yet in the hour when the sky
spills its molten gold across the earth,
my shadow grows vast...
like some celestial titan
cast from my small frame,
as though the universe remembers
what I once was
before I was made mortal.
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