Pausing for a moment to consider her options, Jovlin finally took the man’s hand. It was a strong, warm, reassuring handshake that comforted her and let Jovlin know that she was safe. As she relaxed, pain suddenly filled her body once more as she finally realized how bruised and broken her fall had left her. Shaking, Jovlin fell into the arms of the young man whose hand she still held.

A late Christmas poem! Comments make my day :)
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Child of Promise

Tiny body wrapped in rags
New pink flesh poked with hay
Innocent baby
My newborn messiah

Welcomed by a lowing cow
Announced by a choir of angels
Desolate child
The sacrificial lamb

Two frightened parents all alone
Thoughts and dreams, vows to keep
Firstborn son
Prince of Peace

Future grim, yet so bright
Prophesied pain and indescribable love
Infant King
God of all

Turn

The
Soft crinkle
Of the bending
The slightest move

With
A motion
Turning a page
A whole new world

One
Soft sigh
A held breath
A trance of wonder

Hurt
Odd pain
Not your own
Brought on by ink

This
New place
Brand new world
Exciting new adventure

Not
Of flesh
Born of words
Living deep inside

All
New view
Shifted forever
Brought by a turn

* * *

Dove left the party and walked into town - a distance of several miles - in her little heels and exposed shins. Her skirt swished around her knees and she wrapped her hands around her arms to keep warm under her thin party coat. She reached Dagmar's apartment - a room above the grocery store - and went up the narrow staircase in the back, given directions by the grocer.

"- Is he in?"

"I think so, ma'am."

She found the second door to the left. She rapped lightly on the wood, and then knocked louder, but there was no response.

Down, down, down
He goes.
Swimming down
Into the deep.

Deeper, deeper, deeper
He dives,
Ignoring everything
As he sinks.

The panic rises,
His breathing
Shallow as the air
Explodes around him.

Beneath his hands,
Grasping underneath,
His prey, in fear,
Evades its defeat.

Downwards they go,
Each in his own
Way, ignoring his
Instinct to run.

The fleeing prey,
Unaware of defeat,
Continues to run,
Until exploding with fear.

And then she ignored him. After that night, she tried to keep away from his very presence; if she saw him coming, she ducked in one of her many hiding places throughout the house and lawns. Though she was successful most of the time, there were times when she couldn't help avoiding him. Such times were meals.

I am still trying to comprehend that I am a Monthly Writer as of yesterday night!! This means so much...so, thank you.

And also, the picture is really working now! :))

~~~~~~

I had a dream that we were walking
down riverbanks of ice.
My feet were slipping.
The snow had drifted high.

Then I woke and I'd been sleeping
underneath the deep snow
deep beneath the white snow
buried in the sweet snow
up to my chin.

Then I woke and it was just the blankets,
warm and home, in bed.

I listened to the songs left over from the summer,
from when I was at the sea:
all those songs I had in my head
back then.

And I can't decide, sometimes
if I would rather be here, or there--

Changes are everything.

2011 was moving.

2011 was trying to fit in. And it didn't work.

2011 was becoming a teen.

2011 was overcoming crushes and figuring out that it’s worthless to spend time over them.

2011 was leaving youth group.

2012 has been frustrating.

2012 has been exploring:

The work world.

Myself. I have now got a vague grasp on who I want to be, and whose I am.

The Bible.

2012 has been learning how to draw…with good results.

2012 was going to a new youth group.