Worth More Than Five Cents

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WORTH MORE THAN FIVE CENTS

Junk -- gleaned from a rummage sale, 5 cents apiece. (The styrofoam snowball and fabric swatches counted as a set, for 5 cents.)

But oh, what beauty
and scratch-the-itch desire for creativity!
Worth? Immeasurable,
Highly treasurable!
What may happen to these parts?
Ah, re-purposed arts!

Garlands of cats to be seen,
Are leftovers from Halloween;
But black cats endear other seasons as well.
Or I could re-cut them into (what?) else?
Or glue on shiny
Colored thingies –
Off to a good start
Of other garlanded pop-art.

(Or fashion them into silhoettes
Of seaweed for fishy themed vignettes --)
As also true with the black glittery tinsel:
Underwater plant-feathers or pencils.
With tinsel I might dress a doll,
Or re-edge a fluffy shawl,
Or fashion garland in shape of a heart,
Or frame a picture – is that art!

Hand-mirror, badly abused;
Reflective surface crazed, confused.
Patch the cracked frame,
Paint it – sure, I’m game!
I envision gluing
Bright beads wooing
Delight; perhaps I’d paint some lines
Or maybe sparkly Valentines,
But I’d let the mirror’s still-shiny parts
Glint through the masque of art.

Styrofoam would-be Christmas-ball-bedecked,
But the cloth is only pinned in place, not wrecked
For styrofoam snowball --always useful –
Or to make a doll’s face sweet and truthful.
Fabric swatches’ jewel tones
Are just so re-arrangement-prone;
Rows of squares, or fans, to start.
I crave many repositioned arts!

And so I thank the God of life
Who lends imagination to my life;
His God-image set in me
Bursts forth in my creativity.
Through my pastimes I make beauty,
And see the awesomeness of God, not duty!

(c) 2011 by Marilee Miller



This post is linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In and Around Mondays

And to Laura Boggess' site "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

A Place in my Heart for Prayer

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from my heart to yours: a prayer

I believe with all my heart that God loves you dearly.

He watches over you tenderly.

He says that he'll never leave nor forsake you,

never take away his comfort from you.

He'll never let go of your hand!

He'll equip you to take your stand

And walk with you hand in hand

Until you've reached safely

His blessed Promised Land.

Isn't that a great promise for you?

Oh God, hear the cry of my friends' hearts. Send your presence in such a strong way that they may feel you with them, in their hearts. Show them your great mercy. You, Jesus Christ, are "The Way, The Truth, and The Light." You are LIFE.

Thank you for never letting go of my friends who call on your name. Protect their spirits, heal the broken hearts, comfort their minds and keep them clear of confusion. Send them your own dear self, you as Jesus and Messiah, to be their deliverer.

I speak a word of hope into each life today. I speak words of renewal and restoration. l ask you to revive godly relationships and mend family ties. Pour out on these, my friends, your inner peace. And clear a way before them that cuts through the darkness of this troubled world. Thank you, Lord, for being the true healer and guide.

In Jesus Christ the Savior's Wonderful Name, Amen.

(c) 2011 by Marilee Miller


This post is shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone",
On, In and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring,"
Playdates with God

A Place to Gather Sweet Pink to the Last Drop

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A Place to Gather Sweet Pink to the Last Drop

Blottings

Whole strawberries, from my freezer, will make a tasty fruit choice for my lunch. Eaten when scarcely-thawed, the berries are delightful little popsickles. And when the bag has been emptied----

Here I am, blotting up the strawberry juice
From the inside of a small bag,
Using a paper towel.

The beadlets are small and few-ish; isn’t it foolish
To waste my time
Collecting tiny tidbits of liquid COLOR
From a bag I’m going to throw away?
Perhaps others may see this as against-the-rule-ish!
But my artist’s mind spies hopeful sign.

I’ve drizzled Kool-Aid over damp papers;
Daubed some towels with house paint;
Smeared cranberry puree
Or stewed tomatoes
Or dotted beet juice from bottle rings.
But I don’t have any strawberry tone yet:
A delicately pinkish touch of cool-ish.
Oh, delightsome color!

I hope to use the towels as backgrounds
For some sort of artwork designs.
God the Creator of beauty, thank you
For this opportunity to praise you.
Oh Lord, you really are JEWEL-ish!


copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to post a link on your site, but please, no copying without permission.

This post is also linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
"On, In, and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
"Playdates with God"

Winter-Killed Vines are Art, Too!

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Winter-killed Vines Are Art, Too.

My neighbor has a lovely rock garden
Which is only visible in winter.
Its moss-covered rocks, how dear!
For most of the year, nasturtiums wind luxuriantly,
Covering the bumps of stone.
Gone now are the leaves and flowers;
Winter has freeze-dried the tangled vines,
Leaving an ugly mat of fiber-stems
(Some are twelve or fifteen feet in length),
No longer green with succulence, but
Made pliable by workings of the weather.

My neighbor is elderly and can’t get about very well.
I want to help her, do her some sort of favor.
And so I offer to pull the nasturtium vines,
A few, a little bit at a time.
(I also have an ulterior motive: I want to try an experiment:
Using crusty, fibrous stems to adorn some of my Nature Art.)

Clambering about amidst the rocks
Was harder work than I thought.
It took many days to gather up the vines.
And then I had a mess inside my house,
As I draped and wound the stems to dry.
Layer upon layer, with newspapers in between.
And cardboards and real boards here and there
In sandwich style.
And on the top of several piles I set my weights:
Lots of thick books; a very heavy kitten-sized rock,
And even my big bags of kitty litter and cat chow.

And now, after a couple weeks of waiting,
They’re dry, the stems are dry!
Matted, some of them;
Twisty, all of them.
So this part of the experiment is done.
But there are other steps ahead.

It will be more work by far to glue the flattened vines,
A section at a time, to backings,
To shape ponder-ful designs.
And to dye their ugly dun in fetching, artish hues.
It would be quicker to simply paint
Some scrawly, burly lines.
But this part, too, (after many days)
Will culminate my art experiment.

There is such potential for me to worship God
As I use my imagination in the creation of art.
He, the Creator of All Things, created me
To envision new ideas and works.
(And the Master of the Universe already knows
How he will work out his own art experiment
Through/for/within me.


copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller Feel free to post links on your site;
but please, no copying without permission.

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, in, and around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God