Poem 10:

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Poem 9: Narnia

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Narnia

This area I created
As a place to gather and hide
My belongings as they inflated.
My career they glorified.

Or did they?

For that one item kept
Because I might one day utilize
Never have I needed to intercept
My hoarding I do now chastise.

Or should I?

For now Narnia lies depleted.
As weeks passed,
Her item removal completed
My approval unsurpassed.

Or should I plan another?

As this room empties,
Plans began circling
As as this academic year begins to ease,
As a new challenge comes hurdling.

Already, planning.
Already, designing.
Already, hoping,
Already, knowing.

A new Narnia to create.
Smaller.
This time for a shorter stay.
This time, though, I do embrace.

Poem 8: The Rock

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The Rock

Ten years there I taught.
Thirteen years did pass.
Then in a moment sought
Memories in a mass
To meet again and reminisce.

Connections made, texting one, then two.
Years flew away, seeking name after name.
A place determined, eating must be a priority.
Calendars rule, choosing who may attend...or not.

"How are you?"
"Hello!"
"It has just been too long."
"So good to see you."

Then, across the way,
Recognition.
Could it be?
Yes, another joins us.
To meet, to greet,
To reminisce.

This group became and remain
A family.
Brought together by years at The Rock.
Years that slip away as these connections are made.
Stories now told that fill in the missing years.
Stories now told that fill in those not attending.
Memories.
Laughs.
Sighs.

Committed now to meet,
Committed now to be,
Committed now to continue,
Meeting,
Greeting,
Smiling,
Chatting,
Leaving...just for two months...
Then, time again, for this Rock Family
To gather again, for once
Family,
Then always family.

The family from The Rock.

Poem 7: Three Days

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Three Days

Thankful I am
For three days spent
with The Girl.

Thankful I am
For three days spent
with 4000 women.

Thankful I am
For three days spent
Going to the cross,
Dying on that cross,
Residing for those three days.

Thankful I am
For three days spent
for me
to know
One Day
Spent for All Days.

Thankful I am
For three days spent
Reminding myself and The Girl
Three days spent
Just for us.

Poem 6: A Rose

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A Rose

Twinkies, we may be.
Born two weeks a part.
Both now living our destinies.
Teachers of English our part.

Traveling from two parts of the state,
In another state to meet,
Gathered 4000 women,
Just to get our joy on.

Catching up,
Remembering, 
Discussing, 
Clarifying,
Knowing.

Our goals similar:
To raise test scores.
To further discover His Will.
To complete our tasks at His Design.
To plan for future gatherings.
To chat as we gather around food.

Short sessions so treasured.

We part.
Already looking forward, I am
To...
Traveling from two parts of the state,
In another state to meet,
To gather with more women
Determined to get our joy on.

This rose,
She blooms where God
Plants her.
Sends her.
Uses her.
Her spiritual fragrance is sweet for Him.

May I her twinkie be.

Poem 5: Back Seat of the Van

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Back Seat of the Van

Women of Joy 2019.
Friday Evening.
Angela Thomas Pharr.
The Holy Land.
A Van.
The Voice.
"This is not about you."

How many times on this ride of life,
How many times not about me?
How many times caught up in strife?
How many times His Will my reality?

Slow down.
Breathe in.
Listen for that small, still voice.

Slow down.
Breathe in.
Listen to the voices in my path.

Slow down.
Breathe in.
The very air He put there.

His Plan.
My Life.
Taking that seat in the back of the van.

Poem 4: Packed Bags

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Packed Bags

Two outfits.  Check.
One pair of shoes.  Check.
No, two pair. Check.
Okay, three.  Check!

Plastic bag for shampoo. Check.
Make up bag. Check.
Bags within the bag.  Check.

Curling iron. Check.
Glasses.  Check.
Extra contacts...just in case.  Check.

Two computers.  Check.
Charging cords.  Check.
A book.  Check.
Another book on Kindle.  Check.
Sticky notes. Pens.  Check.
Bible.  Check.

Tomorrow,  a girl trip.
Tomorrow, packed with The Girl.
Tomorrow, an escape with her...
And 4000 other women,
Ready to get their worship on.

Poem 3: Playing with Ears

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Playing with Ears

Three times a week.
52 white keys.
36 black keys.
Some accessed.  
Many never.

Three times a week.
One bench.
Four songs.
Or more.
One leader.
Several participants.

Three times a week.
Black dots
Unfilled circles.
Several lines
And words.
Blessed words.

Three times a week,
I gather with family
To sing
And
Sing
With words I know
And
Notes I do not.

Three times a week,
I play the piano
By ear.

Poem 2: Gillmore Brownies

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Gillmore Brownies

Why does chocolate hold such an appeal?
The desires seems so very real!
"Mrs. Gillmore, when are you bringing those brownies?"
"When you earn them, my dear smarties!"

They will work and work,
Brains now on high alert,
For that reward so tasty, you see,
As knowledge gained and so closely contained.

Once told, I was affirmed:
Food, your love language confirmed
By the stacks of brownie mix
Swirled together with teacher love intermixed.

Class by class,
Birthday by birthday,
Chosen by most amass,
These they would certainly eat everyday
If only time and budgets allowed
And if with brownie mix I were endowed.

Why does chocolate hold such an appeal?
"Hunger," you say?
"Maybe", I convey.
More, though, than hunger I am convinced.
Motivation exists, remains fixed,
For they now know The Teacher in them believes.

Poem 1: I Went Home

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I Went Home

Today, I felt like I went home
To a place I do not reside.
Are these emotions on loan?
No, too real to not claim as my own.

I stood and gazed.
Excitement continuing to grow.
A window I did praise,
Through which I see many tomorrows.

New faces, former faces.
Smiles, handshakes, and embraces.
Today, I felt like I went home.
Are these emotions just on loan?

No, a permanence I sense,
Solidified by that sense of inner peace.
Years waited as dreams commence
To become reality as expectations increase.

This prayer I prayed
That my last be as my first.
The answer came, with just a short delay,
With grace, not a bit coerced.

Today, I felt like I went home.