Encourage the Writers

Encourage the writers, creators of art.
Who share what’s inside them, exposing their heart.

Alone with their thoughts, they reach deep in their soul.
Exposing their journey through life is their role.

They take us to places we’ve not seen before.
They take us to heights we’ve not dared to explore.

Their words give us courage to learn and to grow.
They give us the courage to share what we know.

Some words will enlighten and help us to see.
They help us be all we’re created to be.

When life brings us sadness, it cuts to the bone.
We seek words of comfort, we need time alone.

So, writers keep sharing your words with us all.
With no light in the darkness, we stumble and fall.

Light in My Soul

The door to my soul had so rarely been used.
The key wouldn’t turn. The lock flatly refused.

The lock finally yielded, I opened the door.
My footsteps left prints on that dusty old floor.

I walked to the window and opened the shade,
Revealing the cluttered-up mess I had made.

The stuff pilled in heaps and just scattered about,
Caused me to shudder and filled me with doubt.

Could I ever make sense of this room full of stuff?
Could I deal with this muck? Was my courage enough?

I sat on the floor and I prayed for a while.
Then God gave me courage to start on a pile.

Discarded old memories I’d long ago stored.
I thought they were gone but they’d just been ignored.

As I sorted each memory I found in the piles,
I tagged some with sadness and others with smiles.

As I searched for a purpose in each one reviewed,
I found comfort and peace with each memory renewed.

I saw scattered around me the feelings that came
From the memories I filed, so I tagged them by name.

I made progress on cleaning some piles of debris.
Though much more remained, I now needed no key.

I left the room open and let in the light.
I go there more often, it’s now in plain sight.



The winter of my life has come.
I’m truly blessed, it’s missed by some.

I now look back on seasons past,
The ups and downs, they’ve gone so fast.

My younger days were spent, it seems,
On future plans, on hopes and dreams.

Now winter’s come, who would have guessed,
I’d see a life that’s been so blessed.

I see God’s hand throughout my life.
He blessed me with a loving wife.

She shared my joys, my hopes, my fears.
We’ve had our share of trials and tears.

But through it all we trusted God.
He heard our prayers where ere we trod.

Though many youthful dreams came true,
Now older, wiser dreams shine through.

Though winter’s come I’m young inside.
New hopes and dreams, they still abide.

I trust in God to make a way,
To share some wisdom day by day.

Until the day His face I see,
I’ll share the words he gives to me.

A Christmas Prayer

Enjoy this short fiction Christmas rhyme and have a Merry Christmas with your friends and family.

John Alexander

Charlie is 13 this year. The story is fiction.

Charlie Christmas Photo

A Christmas Prayer

T’was the night before Christmas, each child wore a frown,
As they stood near the bed with their heads hanging down.

While we sat by the fire, wishing it were not so.
The wood slowly burned, embers now were aglow.

Our beloved dog Charlie just lay there so still.
“Will you live to see Christmas, or are you too ill?”

The kids knelt by the bed and rubbed Charlie’s soft fur.
Charlie made no response, no not even a stir.

We hugged all our children and wiped all their tears.
We tried to be brave and to help calm their fears.

We sat in a circle, our hands were locked tight.
We prayed that our Charlie would live through the night.

Our children were sad as they crawled into bed.
I awoke with fond mem’ries alive in my head.

We sprang from the bed to see Charlie once more.
We ran down the stairs wondering what was in store.

The sight we beheld stopped us both in mid-dash.
I called to the children who came in a flash.

Our Charlie gave birth on that Christmas eve night.
She had eight tiny puppies. Oh, what a delight!

We gave thanks to God for his answer to prayer.
We cried tears of joy for God’s love and his care.

The Grands Christmas

My loving wife jotted down some thoughts about this Christmas to inspire me to write another rhyme. (I love to turn thoughts into rhyme.) We are grandparents and refer to ourselves as Grands. I’m sure there are many like us and share similar feelings during this time of the year. I pray this tale will inspire all of us remember the true meaning of Christmas at this special time of the year, no matter what our state or circumstance.

John Alexander

The Grands Christmas

Our Christmas has changed as the kids have all grown.
They live far away and have kids of their own.

Their children now grownup and leaving the nest.
It’s the way it should be and we know it is best.

It’s now Christmas eve; we Grands warm by the flame.
Our heads flood with memories. It’s just not the same.

We stare at the flames, watch the embers red glow.
We’ll make some new memories, but when we don’t know.

We pick up the Bible on this Christmas night,
And we read of the time when the angels took flight

To announce to the shepherds alone in the field,
That a savior was born, that their souls could be healed.

Our hearts fill with joy, we can no longer mourn.
We remember the night our dear savior was born.

We stand and embrace, then we dance and we sing.
“Let the joy fill our souls, to this truth we will cling.

“No matter our state or our worries this eve,
The Lord is within us, and he’ll never leave.”


I pray you were blessed with a wonderful day of thanksgiving this year as we counted our blessings and thanked the Lord for friends and family. God bless us every one.

Here is a Thanksgiving poem I wrote Thanksgiving morning I’d like to share with you.

Thanksgiving Morning

A peaceful morning coffee, on this Thanksgiving Day;
A day with friends and family; no Santa or his sleigh.

A quiet time, alone with God, reflecting on my life.
The times of joy, the ups and downs, and even times of strife.

I see God’s hand throughout my life with every twist and turn.
It’s clearer now, but at the time seemed harder to discern.

I’m grateful God is patient; even when I’m stubborn,
He lets me go my own way and waits for my return.

He welcomes me with open arms and love I don’t deserve;
That God who set the stars in place and all that I observe.

I’ll thank God for my blessings, for each day of my past,
Until the day my journey ends, at home with Him at last

John Alexander