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The Story Pyxis: May 2010
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Sunday, May 23, 2010. It was a cold, damp day, and the two women sat hunched over to keep themselves warm. Outside, winter was in the beginnings of its transition into spring. Dreary rain and frigid cold had been forecasted for the next week. The church currently met in an old gym, too big to heat. Scattered around the cleared church area sat several buckets, strategically placed to catch any rain that might fall through the holes in the zinc roof above. Not that she minded. She sighed, nevertheless.
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The Story Pyxis: January 2015
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Friday, January 16, 2015. Little one, I saw your face,. Your heart and veins like living lace,. Each part of you in proper place,. I felt my heart could burst. Oh, little one, your tiny feet,. Your baby hands, so small, petite,. They waved at me, a meet-and-greet,. I felt my heart could burst. My little one, what can I say? I’ll hold you in my arms one day. But, until then, we’ll bond this way. My heart will “hold” you first. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). A lover of paradoxes, of life, of art, and of words.
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The Story Pyxis: April 2009
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Thursday, April 23, 2009. Curse Those Sour Grapes. Poor souls, they reach for gilded grapes,. Their noses twitch at promised scents. Mocked and scorned by foolish apes,. Their flagging courage quick escapes. Alas, their outer shell prevents,. Their hands from touching grand events. Curse those sour grapes. We scoff their less-than-splendid shapes,. Such slow, and fat, and useless lumps. Whilst our attractiveness we traipse,. Our heartless banter tears and rapes. Their little heart that barely pumps.
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The Story Pyxis: August 2014
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Monday, August 11, 2014. An apology to the internet. Ah, internet, your monolithic wealth of information,. Seems used for little else but seeking auto-affirmation. A plethora of soap-boxes with each a thousand scribes. A thousand selfish monuments, a thousand diatribes. Oh vast, binary universe, chaotic cornucopia. So many daily tracking through in search of their utopia. And though sometimes, some treasure shines, some gem of inspiration. The users might, in greater part, find naught but consternation.
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The Story Pyxis: April 2012
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Wednesday, April 25, 2012. Is THIS What You Want? May I cover my eyes, Lord? The minister cried,. I must be confessing,. My view is distressing. I'd rather that my. Eyes were dried.". May I cover my ears, Lord? The counselor pled,. The wailing and crying,. Is stressful, and trying. I'd rather have silence instead.". May I cover my mouth, Lord? The preacher implored,. The message rings hollow,. And no one will follow. I'm tired of being ignored.". So be it, you foolish, young children of stone.
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The Story Pyxis: March 2014
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Sunday, March 2, 2014. The Process of Learning. I’ll take a thousand failures if. I might but once prevail;. I’ll take a hundred botched attempts. If one forgets to fail;. If next ‘tis only ninety-nine. I’ll learn, I’ll work, travail;. And drip by drip by drop and drop. I’ll someday tip the scale! I'd rather do battle with murderous pigeons. Than try to debate about faiths and religions. I'd rather taunt wolves from my house made of sticks. Than find myself having to talk politics. And "Jesus is risen!
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The Story Pyxis: August 2009
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Friday, August 28, 2009. Press: Thoughts on a Word. Depressed by daily trials. Pressed, but not crushed. Pressing on in the race. Oppressed by the Lord of Darkness. Impressed by the Lord of Light. Suppressed only by myself. Expressed in one word: saved. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). A lover of paradoxes, of life, of art, and of words. View my complete profile. People Who Follow My Blog. Be my rabbit wife. Press: Thoughts on a Word. Travel template. Powered by Blogger.
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The Story Pyxis: July 2009
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Sunday, July 12, 2009. The evening light is fading,. A darker canvas shading,. My vast horizon shrinks and vanishes . . . The deepness all-pervading,. Hopelessness starts invading,. And though my grounding sinks and falls away,. I hear Him say . . . Move on, do not fear the dark before you. Move on, I will provide for every need. Move on, move on! And if you are frightened, reach, and I will hold your hand. 8220;My Lord, I will not make it,”. I cry, “My hand, God, take it! Though I cannot forsake it,.
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The Story Pyxis: Big and Small
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Tuesday, May 26, 2015. And once in a while when I hold her hand,. Or she holds mine). And I understand . . . How very BIG my small hands are,. How BIG my feelings. Yes, BIGger far. Than what I was before. Am I shedding what I was? Or am I becoming more? October 25, 2015 at 9:48 PM. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, this one! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). A lover of paradoxes, of life, of art, and of words. View my complete profile. People Who Follow My Blog. Be my rabbit wife.
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