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Florida, United States
Southern born, Southern reared. It's a quirky place and we are unique folk... These are my people and these are my stories.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Let's Do It Again!

In the dream, he waited at the end of a great hall. Marble walls, white and gleaming, lined with thick columns and arched windows where light streamed in, led the way. Overhead a canopy of alabaster artwork hung over me, catching my echoed steps. And then the water, crystal clear, casting shadows of blue, swept in, dividing me from my one true love. Or did it make the way? I swept up the skirt of my wedding gown, full with taffeta and satin, slipped my feet out of tiny slippers, and stepped into the coolness. He was now within eyesight, just beyond the crystal river, seated on the throne, waiting for his beloved. Waiting for me. Me. (Rev 22:1)
c Eva Marie Everson

Okay! Your turn! Keep it under 150-200 words!


  1. Thanks for being confirmation. I have been praying about doing a painting of that very scripture. Beautiful. :)

  2. This is the painting you did? Oh my. It's stunning. Thank you for sharing. :-)

    1. No. I just do the writing. Now ... your turn! Write what you SEE in the painting!

  3. She stopped several feet into the flooded hallway and lifted the skirt of her elaborate white gown with her hands. Too late. Water rushed around her feet, pouring in from the dozen corridors lining the grand entry way. When the master of ceremonies had yelled into the microphone that the dam above the castle had broken, she’d fled to avoid pursuit, straight into the oncoming path of released water. Her shoes were a complete loss, but it didn’t matter. Light spread across the wet shimmer covering the hall and beckoned her to escape. She hurried toward the glow.


  5. He was a touch away, she felt the flow of the water coming from His throne, she lifted her gown walked into the crystal blue water. Her only thought was to kneel before Him, He is the way, I must follow! She knows in her heart she must be there with Him, He Is the only way!

  6. Anne lifted her gossamer skirts higher as icy water engulfed her ankles. Gilded with divine artistry, the palace's alabaster pillars stood awash in morning light. The peaceful gleam failed to calm her wrenching stomach. She had hoped to dance many nights with her new prince, but their first waltz would prove their last. One shared kiss, and the messengers pried him from her arms. Whisked away to lead the charge against the Saxons, he left her with a promise to return in honor. She remained in the ballroom for hours. Alone. Until the messengers returned with his royal seal and the news his promise lay broken on the battlefield. Tears splashed alongside her feet as the waters continued to rise. A train of ripples shadowed Anne's hurried steps toward the throne room. With no time to mourn as a widow, she must take her place as queen.How long before enemy soldiers flooded these halls? Anne's trembling voice echoed across the tidewater and stone. "Help me, O Lord." A verse came to her mind, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you."
    -tina yeager

  7. With each step forward I was less aware of the water beneath me, as if it were a cloud, cool and ethereal. I moved on, to him, when a thought came over me like a smoky, passing shadow; “Am I worthy?”

    But as I fixed my gaze at his form across the echoing hall, I saw a golden aura, radiant and bespoken of warmth. In awe of its glow my heart whispered, “That must be the color of joy.”

    Unlike a sun, its rays did not reach out to bathe me, but rather, pulled me closer. I was the prodigal and that embrace was meant only for me. I felt an ache in my chest known secretly to wanderers and the broken hearted. I knew somehow that home was waiting in his arms.

    The tears on my face shouted their agreement.

  8. I dare not look down. I dare not look up. Only look into his loving eyes. The eyes that draw me onward over, under, though the water. When I forget and look away, not only my feet, but also my heart sinks. They water turns murky and thick with muddled thoughts, muddied relationships. But, he reaches out, offering a nail-pierced hand to hold me in his steadfast love and grace, until once again I can look into his grace filled eyes that hold only forgiveness and mercy.


  9. Cinderella Revisited
    Will this ever end? The prince’s parents counted on him finding a bride here, but he was having doubts. The Ball was boring. Women who can’t dance, giggle incessantly, or smell like fish.
    That’s when she floated down the staircase; An angel.
    “Would you like to dance?” he asked.
    She held out a slender hand. “Thank you.”
    With these words spoken, they were off. Now, only the two of them mattered. He gazed into her eyes. Bluer than the sky. They danced on air; no hurt toes, no fish smell. Simply the aroma of her beauty.
    Beware the intoxication of beauty. That’s not a reason to marry, he thought. If only I knew she was more than this.
    Just then, the butler approached. “Sire. There’s a problem.” Water dripped from him, pooling on the floor. “The royal bathroom doth overflow.”
    The prince was vexed. “To get a plumber this late, will cost a royal fortune.”
    “Let me see what I can do,” his dance partner said.
    He raised an eyebrow. “You?”
    “I handle these chores around my stepmother’s house.”
    Before he could protest, she was off, wading down the hall to the bathroom.
    The prince smiled. That’s the girl I’m going to marry.

    Jeremiah Peters revjeremiah@yahoo.com

  10. A gentle, deep voice calls to me. The words seem to have no edges yet are clear. The softness near, though the face of the One speaking only a distant beckoning glow.
    “I am about to do something new. I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. Do not be afraid, for I am with you.”
    My family all around me, I want to kiss their tears. I want to tell them what I see. I can no longer move my arms; can no longer form as kiss. ALS stealing my last breaths, I whisper “Isaiah 43.”
    He has called my name. I step into the river and fix my gaze upon Him. I am surrounded by beauty.
    I am His.

    kay colón kay_colon@hotmail.com