Showing posts from July, 2016

God Rules! (Happy birthday, Raindrops!)

And so it is that as the rain drops outside, I blog again after the longest time of not doing so. And it is because it is my little Ella's sixth birthday. She's not so little any more, yet still the sweet little one I love. But much sweeter and lovelier. So in connection to a writing project for my kids, here's one for her.

Happy birthday my little raindrops (or is it starlight?) Whatever you want me to call you, you can always call me Mom.
I love the sound of rain on the roof, on my umbrella--- just as I love the tinkle of your laughter. Your eyes light up, your smile all turned up heralding mirth, showcasing your merry heart.
I love the smell of rain as it waters the earth and how it leaves everything crisp and clear. So are you, my dear, the moment you enter a room, your presence is so refreshing. Must be the innocence or that impish glint that is so endearing.
Rain falls softly, but it can be tough, too. And you have that soft heart that easily melts, but, my,! I do kn…

Mean (A Poem for those who don't want to be one)

Your power over me
Tramples the little dignity left.
The respect kindling,
To breath.
I huff and puff to fury.
I sizzle myself to crazy.
I stew and burn myself down.
Ready to gamble
The little
Of me.
Petty is not pretty.
I'd rather be gutsy
With words---
To reflect and deflect.
Create and dream.
Laugh and learn.
Grow up. Be me.
There's more than one way
To live,
To be.
I wannabe.

Copyright © 2016 zernahfaith

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Name Game

It's early summer and beautiful meadows are everywhere with their flowers of golden yellow and blues. Even the backyard looks fantastic with these tiny flowers and when it's time to mow the lawn, it's hard to see them go. I don't even know the names of these flowers, only that they look so charming.

Well, I can't put a name on myself, either. Okay, literally, people are confused on how to call me. (Come on people, we've been on this before! See post What's My Name?) Recently, I have been called Risa, which is rice in Russian, because my name here is pronounced Z-ur-na. It is similar in sound to some kind of grain. Then there's Jorna. Never mind where that comes from.

Figuratively, however, it has only been a few years since I have come to put a name on myself. But here goes the online tests which claim that they know me just by my name or my picture. (I know almost all, if not all, know what I'm talking about here. You can't resist those online te…