Tag Archive | Poem

The Delivery

She’s been gone 4 years, 6 months, 7 days.
Yet, she visits religiously
every Thursday,
without fail.

The postman has no clue,
of the bounty he brings
jumbled together,
with a bill from Duke Energy.

She must have purchased
a life long subscription
to watch TV.

To him,
it’s just another magazine-
not to me.

Debbie Hope



Compassion…….Where Does It Live?


Maybe you’ve felt it,
perhaps it floats to the surface every now and again.

Like a buried treasure,
it can be locked away or reasoned with.
I believe it resides someplace deep and real;
uniquely different from love.

It’s beyond what the eye perceives,
burrowed in the soul
far, far down
nestled with bone, twisted through tendon,
sleeping silently in cells.

It’s everywhere and through everything human
A testament of undeserving grace.

When you’ve seen it, really seen it
rubbed up against it,
smelled its essence
it’s remembered-forever.

Lavish it upon yourself,
wear it like a coat of brilliant reds and golds,
toss it carelessly like confetti….everywhere
It is our human fanfare.

Full of Hope
Debbie Hope

Song of the Earth

The scent emerges first,
A pungent smell of earth,
Up from the ground,
Barren of sound.

Sunshine sparks the frenzy.
Every fiber of soil thrusting,
Quaking and shaking,
Nature in the making.

The Master’s symphony
A chaotic cacophony.
Intelligently designed,
Uniquely sublime.

The gift of renewal,
Wrapped tightly with
Eternal ribbons
Of Promise and Hope.

Never ending resilience,
Accompanied by
Dazzling brilliance.
A song that resounds perfectly
from year to year.

Song of the Earth,
Play on, play on.

There are certain seasons when you can almost see and hear Mother Nature hard at work creating new life. It’s comforting to know that there’s a force so strong that it’s moving the earth below our firmly planted feet. This poem refers to the motion of “moving, shaking, and quaking the earth,” and serves as a reminder that there’s a lot happening in our world that we cannot see. I am eternally thankful for this promise.

Song of the Earth was written as a reminder of the ultimate renewal of life. Not only does this relate to the work being done in nature, but to the emotional work that we, as humans, are engaged in. Growth is the same in nature as it is with life.



My mom was an addict


My Mom was an addict.

She left traces everywhere,
and didn’t seem to care
about the pieces she
whimsically strewn
here and there.

She couldn’t go out without partaking.
A true obsession in the making.

Everyone around her knew.
We kept her secret and never shared
the nitty, gritty details
of her sordid affairs.

You must have seen them,
they were everywhere,
in every shape and size.

There were pitchers, vases,
water goblets, cream and sugar bowls.
Dishes for candy and butter,
and pickles, and relish-yes, even relish.

Endless amounts of ashtrays, punch bowls,
cake plates, salt and pepper shakers, brandy decanters
(she never even drank brandy)

There were special
containers for olives and teeny, tiny
pearl white onions.

Everything you could
imagine was there.

So many patterns refracting the light,
amazing prisms of delight.
Designs of stars, diamonds, crests,
it was a beautiful cut glass world.

Today, as I look around,
I see sparkling reminders of the
light from my mothers eyes,
when she returned home with
another piece of cut glass heaven.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

The Imperceptible Shift

And so it begins,
more of me and less of You,
trying to squash the fear in me,
unnerved by how it shows through.

Fear has pummeled my door.
Thick, icy layers
staunch and steadfast
wrapped tightly around my soul.

Less glancing up,
more searching within,
intentionally moving away,
I knowingly waiver.

Intentional masterminding,
controlling, calculating.
Less relying,
continuously believing.
Have I pushed you away?

I want to lean in and look up
but, my humaness takes over.
Swirling worldly emotions suck
me back to my own scheming.

Please invite me back.
I need a place to rest,
and unhitch my load.

A tiny vignette of eternal paradise
would surely do the trick,
A glimmer of Grace.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope


The Wonder Years

I stood on my tip toes and peeked through the window screen.
He pulled up in a family car, a station wagon, circa 1976 ish,
he stepped out and my stomach flipped.

His dress shirt matched the color of my gown,
rust, the color of clay found down South
intentional by design, I was sure.
The ruffles on the shirt were completely unexpected,
Fashion forward?
Not so sure.
My stomach flipped back the other way.

I flew down the stairs to get outside
and into the car before the neighbors caught
wind of this awkward rite of passage,
not nearly quick enough though,
there was the corsage to deal with,
a single, somber flower packed in a plastic dome.
Next, the pinning ceremony,
followed by endless Polaroid instant photos,
aim, shoot, wait, wait some more, and finally,
we emerged slowly through the milky white chemicals.
two rust colored kids,
dressed beyond our years.

We said goodbye and hopped into the back of the family mobile,
seats so slick we slid east to west every time we rounded a corner.

Next stop, parent trap #2,
more photos for the memory book,
light appetizers and virgin cocktails for all.
Sneaky whispers overheard from the kitchen,
“Are they holding hands?”
“Did they kiss?”
A final photo and back in the car.

We were chauffeured in silence,
and dropped in front of the gym.
We felt the music thumping from the car.
I snuck my Bonnie Bell Root Beer Lip Smacker
from my miniature purse and re-applied another coat,
along with a fresh spritz of Love’s Baby Soft.

When the doors swung open I heard Rod Stewart
singing “Tonight’s the night, it’s gonna be all right”,
the night drew to a fabulous close.

While back in the family mobile,
rust boy slid over and lightly
kissed my Bonnie Bell drenched lips,
while Mr. Chauffeur smiled from the rear view mirror.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope