A Poem to Publish

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

rock solid

when you run your hands through water and feel it flow through your fingers, like putting your hand in the creek or over smoot, cool stones

warm, comforting and big; you couldn’t hold it

very small, but strong, steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and burns very low but no winds can make it flicker because it will not give up


the soft jackets you feel in Walmart

sticking your hand in a dark hole and not knowing what’s in the dark hole


hopeful, reassured, a texture I enjoy, like a blanket

velvety smooth, like God

I have no idea


Feathers, really soft and warm, almost like a warm snowball, you have to hold on but you can never hold on

bouncy, kinda smooth, like a six month baby’s bottom – resilient and youthful like a new born baby

the same as wine

Emily Dickinson poems

warm, baked chocolate chip cookies/everything’s going to be okay because you have cookies


like the fluffiest dog’s fur; comforting, like petting a dog’s fur is comforting and relaxing

or oobleck, its solid when you hold on but runs through your fingers when you let go



like a dirt road: some days, after a nasty storm, it gets bumpy, but it always gets flat again

like a Labrador puppy

soft, warm, fuzzy/rocky rough – that’s what makes it mature

warm, soft, smooth; like melted chocolate

being sockless

fluffy and chocolate

tingly and annoying

fuzzy and familiar

I did not write this poem, not really anyway. This is a form poem. It is formed from the words people I care about have said. These lines bring out three greatest gifts to life.


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