The Girl with Smudged Eyes

Faded floral cotton dress

Coal smudges ’round her eyes

She leans against stone column

Of home she’ll never own, covets

Grand house on the hill… But

More that that she wants to be

The woman on magazine cover

She tosses into her grocery cart

Yearns for caress of man who’ll

Call her “sweetheart”, someone

Whose voice is tender, quiet

Who’ll take her away from

The trailer park’s cacophony

Folks holding cans of cheap

Beer, laughing at her because

She told them the rich man

Whose house she cleans

Let her have a glass of finest


She didn’t say he’d told her

How pretty she looked, that

She deserved more from life…

As she stood next to the

Column, with sunset’s color

Arraying her skin like satin

He’d studied her features, said

She looked like an angel, with

Corona of unvarnished virtue

And beauty surrounding her…

Maybe he saw something she

Could not… something that

Didn’t reek of the towns’ low

Side… and maybe he didn’t

Notice smudges ’round her

Eyes… or maybe he did, but

Didn’t ask, sparing her shame

She could never be his, she knew…

That’s why there are so many

Songs ’bout longings

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Daily Light #84 ~ God Pours Out His Spirit

Acts 2:17-21

Peter Preaches to the Crowd

“What you see was predicted long ago by the prophet Joel:

‘In the last days,’ God says,

‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all people.

Your sons and daughters will prophesy.

Your young men will see visions,

and your old men will dream dreams.

In those days I will pour out my Spirit

even on my servants—men and women alike—

and they will prophesy.

And I will cause wonders in the heavens above

and signs on the earth below—

blood and fire and clouds of smoke.

The sun will become dark,

and the moon will turn blood red

before that great and glorious day of the LORD arrives.

But everyone who calls on the name of the LORD

will be saved.’

Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Bible Hub

Quarantined Thoughts

Prompt: Quarantined Thoughts

As a child, rebuked, mocked

Humiliated for voicing thoughts

Learned to quarantine them, lock…

Though from time to time, I’d forget

Words would slip from safety net

Till I grew tiny bit older, bolder

Then edict was made sternly clear

None had any interest to hear

Questions, opinions; far-flying notions

Were denied expression, as if they’d retire

Or unveiled verbosity promptly expire

(Back in quarantine, muzzled merely)

But it’s a new season, wings glide free…

Those from the Past cannot hinder

Hold vice-grip’s power over me

Frowning faces can’t deter, sway

What heart’s desire burns to say…

Pandemic’s held our planet captive

‘Cept for thoughts…most spared quarantine

Brain’s boisterous thinkers enjoy right to live

 ©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Eternal Heart


Bedelia sat by the window where the slipping sun shot through her prism, splashing rainbows on walls and ceiling, and mused softly: “which is eternal—love, or the heartache it holds?”

She held the Victorian watch, fingered the sterling scrollwork which resembled ocean waves, and thought of him…

He’d seen her sitting in the dark, the whispering palms and surf behind her, moon glow lighting silent silver streams that slid down her cheeks.

“What is it, Love—tell me,” he’d spoken tenderly, his matinee idol face in shadow…

Etched like scrimshaw on eternal heart, forever ago…was it true memory, or merely recurrent dream?

Closing her eyes she could feel his hand, warm and smooth against her cheek…real as fading prism rainbows.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations,  2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Past Yonder Sea

Quarantine ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #227

Far past yonder sea

Let us be quarantined, Love

Live or die as one

Hearts grieved, forever waiting

Dreams gone, cast in verdigris


Far past yonder sea

‘Mid hibiscus you linger

Palm trees beckon me

Waves play your voice, make me weep

Held captive ‘cross Time’s blue sea

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.