"Do You Still Love Me?"

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Sun, 11/06/2016 - 04:36


"Oh. Hi. You look familiar...have we met before?"

"I don't think so. I've seen you around at this conference before. At least I'm pretty sure I have."

She tilted her head to one side.

"Ohhh that must be it. I've been here every year since they started this conference back in 2012."

"Cool! So have I. My name is Mark. Mark Barton."

He shook her hand.

"Melissa Grey. Nice to meet you!"


"Do you live near here? I live about three hours from here in a little community called Lake Victor."

A Mother's Prayer

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Tue, 06/28/2016 - 13:40

Sweet little life inside of mine
I pray to God your light will shine
I pray your days be fill'd with grace
And that you'll look upon His face
I pray His love you'll magnify
As you lift up His name on high
And sing a song of endless praise
May He alone fill up your days

Tiny Child

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Sun, 01/31/2016 - 20:58

Tiny child, by your parents torn apart,
I wish I could hold you in my arms; not my heart.
Unloved, unprotected, not held by loving hands;
Your demise is cheered on and upheld in this land.

Unloved, unwanted, torn and abused:
Cast aside for selfish pleasure, broken; confused.
They pursued their own lust and chased after their pleasure,
Not facing their sins but removing their treasure.

Never Regretted

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Mon, 11/16/2015 - 15:38

I pulled into the drive and found a spot to park my car. I took the key out of the ignition and put it in my purse. I looked at my hands, palms up. They were shaking and sweating like crazy. I clenched them into fists to steady them and gritted my teeth.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself. "It'll be better this way."

Mother's Day

Submitted by Clare Marie on Sun, 05/11/2008 - 17:19

A “new” mother smiles upon her tiny child
As she rocks him in her arms.

A “not-so-new” mother rubs her son’s hair
After receiving an A+ report card.

An “old” mother hugs her grown-up daughter
As she watches her grandchildren.

And another mother strews flowers
Upon the grave of her grandmother.

A new generation of loving mothers
Appears every year.

Tending and watching over their children
With as much love as their own mother.