Poet Gary R. Ferris provides today’s inspiration with his poem:

Peaceful Summer Day

Sitting on the front porch enjoying a peaceful summer day,
Writing down the words that He’s given me to say.
Sipping on my coffee and watching the wind blow the trees,
Quietly watching the birds sailing in the breeze.

When I look at this beauty it takes my cares away,
The majestic mountains that top these skies today.
Off in a distance a bird begins to sing,
And the sounds of the country and the music it can bring.

The dogs are lying in the sun and lost in the deep,
To watch them in this summer breeze make me want to fall asleep.
To realize that I have been so blessed,
All of my troubles become no more than a pest.

Listening to the sound of children playing in the sun,
Reminds me of a boy and all the things I had done.
Laughing and playing and cherishing each day,
Sometimes I wish that those times were here to stay.

In a world full of struggle, turmoil, and strife,
I feel so blessed to get to live this life.
There are no brilliant words that I could ever say,
That ever could describe a peaceful summer day.


There’s nothing better on a Sunday than writing a poem using the “words that He’s given” us to say. Hook into a word, a line or a thought to expand upon, and write your new poem!


  1. .

    Here to Stay

    These are immortal days
    where my memories keep vigil
    to passing years.
    Memory-etched scenes, as if
    drawn from favourite books —

    forever loved,
    forever comforting,

    they become old friends —
    a kindness for resting bones.
    And in my late afternoons,
    I stretch into a feline dream,
    a divine summer sleep, that’s

    as soothing as
    the blooming of peace.


    © Misky 2016


    Among accumulated
    cumulus clouds are arrayed
    cattle, horses, sheep, and goats
    from end to end
    of heaven’s pasture,

    offering testimony
    that peaceful coexistence
    can happen.


    The sun in all seasons shines brighter
    since I read your words of eternal life.
    How did I neglect to see your presence
    in the world you created? In the flower,
    the warbling birds, the green of summer?
    I had sealed shut my eyes to your goodness.
    My deaf ears never heard the loving hymns
    my soul sang in praise of you, my Lord and God.

    Where once I walked this finite world alone,
    bursting with pride in my own achievements,
    now I have come to believe you have loved me
    long before this world began. I am your child
    whose hand you hold in my life’s journey.
    I am a soldier in the war against sin,
    armed with a peace beyond my understanding.


    On a Sunday in Summer

    On a sunny, summer Sunday,
    I throw on my cleanest finery,
    which, as it turns out,
    doesn’t have much to say for itself.
    It’s fine, though, I’m still up for listening,
    headed to one of my safe places,
    the most spiritual of spaces,
    seeking some joyful calm,
    a message of balm,
    leaving struggle at the door,
    feeling peace, and what’s more,
    finding a non-anxious presence
    in an anxious world,
    hearing that still, small voice,
    its beauty unfurled.

    It’s Sunday at Seaside,
    where love and good and light,
    are real in our life,
    just as real as toil and strife,
    where “effortless effort”
    is written in invisible ink
    on our nonexistent name tags.
    There’s music and prayer and meditation,
    a break from the madness, a soulful vacation.

    I have no name for the effect,
    but I do know what to expect.
    Others will speak, I will listen,
    and an unseen current
    will course through me,
    and I will see
    that change is challenging
    but hope is tangible,
    and grace is possible.

    These Skies Today…

    are hypnotically clear
    not even a contrail
    smears the sheer
    blue in the Appalachians
    where elms, poplar, and ash
    shin up the sides in a
    leafy frame of green,
    where the wren and jay
    and the chickadee
    convene to sing
    their delight in the day.
    Oh, pellucid skies,
    to be alive, cognizant
    of the opulent
    grace of God.

    Peaceful Summer Day

    Sagging in a hammock
    Like a baby in a womb.
    Listening to a rushing creek
    Gurgle out its tune.

    Sweet and sour lemonade
    Rushing past my tongue.
    Dreaming of some sunny days
    When I was oh so young.

    Reading a romance book
    I’ve already read.
    And then reaching over,
    I fall upon head.

  7. Pingback: Wellspring -Poetic Bloomings | Freya Writes…

  8. Here’s my link! Thank you for the inspiration

    If I swallowed

    a dictionary

    from each of

    the countries

    the languages

    of this world

    (and beyond)

    could I

    would I

    ever express

    the joy of this life

    craft with words

    pleasures so simple

    as tea sipped from a china cup

    as coffee cake, moist and rich

    as sun warming my skin

    as my soul unfurling in the lazy afternoon?

    would all the dictionaries

    in all the worlds


    A Day For Rest

    Even He took the seventh day off
    So why so we, His children, insist
    On making Sunday’s so hectic

    Take time to worship His glory
    Take time to gather with family and friends
    Take time to enjoy all that He has given us
    Take time

    © Earl Parsons


    Off in a distance a bird begins to sing,
    the only noise I hear for the moment.
    Having pitched the canopy tent and hell bent
    on finding a moment that is mine.
    It is a fine Sunday afternoon with June
    in the rear view and taking my cue from
    the peace that surrounds me. Sounds are vacant
    except for those birds. A puzzle book sits
    unopened near the once chilled lemonade.
    I’m afraid autumn will take over soon.
    But I am attune with the world.
    In my little corner, it is peace filled.

  11. “It is a fine Sunday afternoon with June
    in the rear view and taking my cue from
    the peace that surrounds me” Love that. It has been a peace filled day for me also

    Seventies With A Breeze

    Tiny white fingerprints
    on a blue sky canvas

    Ratio of heat to breeze:
    flawless comfort

    Shoppers and vendors
    alike, smiling at farmer’s market

    Tomatoes, a more vibrant red
    spinach leaves verdant, unblemished

    Strains of acoustic guitar
    waft through the air, people hum

    Birds sing, dogs mellow out,
    a day to imprint on your mind

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