Just Another Monday Morning

Just another Monday morning

getting out of the car at work,

just another opportunity

to fine-tune my attitude

at the week’s start,

to remember how every sparkle

in the eyes

of my masked face

can make a world of a difference

when it graces

someone’s day.

The lights above

the stadium’s

remind me

of the potential

outlook change

emitted from


natural, genuine


Just another Monday morning

gifted in divine splendor,

another opportunity

to use my gifts

and personality

to make a difference

for the better.

Unedited image taken today

Neither Lost


Neither of us currently lost

in the deep wood,


but alone on your long walk,

let me be reminders to you


of the good,


let me be that bright twinkling

on the water

when the sun and ripples

seem to come together

to call you,


let me be the single blurry bloom

coming into view,


a heart-butterfly

to whisper-deliver a message

just for you,


let me be that subtle extra beauty

that brightens up your day

and life,


as you were for me

when I walked alone

by the sea

and you made me realize


that beauty

can be gifted

but can also

be seeded



Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Yellows and Pinks



Yellows and pinks

seem to bring

bright, happy things

to mind:


smiley faces,

bright sunny days,

carefree moments

in the absence

of time,




kisses on the cheek,

silliness unleashed,

giggles reminiscent

of youth,


butterflies dancing,

candy shop treats,

floating on inflatables

toward dreams

in pools.




Take me to the fields

where the wildflowers bloom

in yellows and pinks.


Take my hand;

let’s frolic and then

into the fragrant bliss,



Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Try To

I challenge you…

to try to remain focused
on your mind’s troubles
when fallen tree-blossom petals
keep playfully popping
your bubble,


to attempt to cling
to the dust
gathering on
your dream’s wings
when gusts
of spring breeze
keep gleefully


to keep your head down
from the weight
of the world
when the sky keeps trying
to tantalize your gaze
with bursts of new-morning colors
and clouds ever-shifting
into signs and shapes,




to stay lost
in your desperate search for
when the endless paths
keep beckoning you
to put on your shoes
to walk your soul
to where it needs you
to go,



to bury in the cold, dark ground
the hope you’ve written off as false
and walk off
just before the spring
emerges again
with new buds that bleed
leaf-green and rose-red.



I challenge you…

to try to keep
focused on your woes
and grief
when Mother Nature
and Spring
are teaming up and waiting
to scoop you up
and take you away
for a while;
why do you resist
their free gifts and service,
all the ways
the wonders all around you
in letting you witness
how beautiful
life is,
especially with you
in it?




Poem and all images ©LauraDenise

Lifting Spirits

To lift the spirits…

My spirits,
today, at this moment,
are sky-high.

Far from perfect is my life,
but I keep my eye
on the prizes
all about me,

for it is neither cliché
nor fantasy
that beauty
and blessings

even in the darkest

sometimes our eyes
get clouded
with tears
and doubt
and distractions
and fears,
but the goodness
never disappears.

When you lose sight,
use your other senses,
breathe deeply in the scents
of the season,

reach out to touch
or the textures
nature offers,

taste the sweetness
of your lover’s kiss
or the fruit
that the earth selflessly

There is love
in abundance
even if you can’t see it,
for love is best experienced
through the spirit.

Sense all that the One
who created it
gives to all
without discrimination,

for you are loved
by the One
who created you.

Feel that spirit
wrap around you
when you are feeling
lonely or blue.

Poem and images (taken yesterday) by Laura Denise

Mirth Bursts

Making merry,

mirth outbursts,

you make this

day memorable,

so much more;

of course,

I recognize,

could never look

this gift horse

from above

in the mouth,

for the blessing of you

in my life is apparent,

and I am so grateful.

The goodness

I get from you

fills me up;

the helium pressure

lifts me until

I am one with

the clouds,

and I begin to

yell down to you,

but you are beside me

grinning, too,

so I whisper instead,

“Thank you.”

You grab some cumulous

and shape it like a bouquet;

I grab some, too,

and add a beard

to your face,

and another mirth bout

rises anew,

as I act like it’s no big deal

that you gave me my sky,

and I sigh inside

from the beautiful view

and gesture from

my flying knight.


Poem and image ©LauraDenise



It’s so easy to lose sight of the goodness in life, and in each of our lives. So easy to focus on what we perceive to be the struggles, the negative, the emptiness. We cannot be entirely empty though, not for long at least. There is always partial fullness, parts to be grateful for, parts that refill, reform.

A shadow was cast over my own mood since yesterday. (I blame the eclipse in some sort of cosmic way.) I can’t explain the melancholy, searched unsuccessfully for words, yet there it hung, its weight felt on my heart. I think some subconscious part of me was questioning. Everything. Insecurities creeping into crevices, my attention getting diverted to the parts that were missing. Patience thinning. Feeling indignant. Where is my share? When is it my turn?

What’s missing can easily overshadow even the sun. What’s missing, often caused by our own interference. What’s missing, misinterpreted by our own mortal ignorance. Perhaps what’s missing, our biggest blessing. None of us can ever, ever know the reasoning. Not in this lifetime, at least.

I like to think I know what I want, what’s best for me. But that, even a half-lifetime in, may not be what I need, what is intended for me. How can I trust my own interpretations when today I am still tossing out drafts of me? How can I know if this torturous waiting for a possibility isn’t exactly what I need, an essential part of a bigger scene, a fuller me?

A fuller me. I know I am not full yet. But how can I recognize it, appreciate it, without partial emptiness?

I wanted more. I didn’t get it. Not yesterday. Not today. Not yet. Maybe never. But the part I did get filled me with a glimpse of what fullness must feel like.

That part that the passing connection created as unexplainable in words as the previous melancholy. The melancholy, the emptiness. The connection, the fullness. Both parts vary in volume in response to circumstances and perceptions. Each of us a glass, half empty, half full.

And life is but the pitcher.

So cheers to you! Drink up and order another round. The tap is good for a hundred years or so.



Positivity Petals


If I were a fairy,

I would carry

colorful flowers

and shake them around,

send petal rain down

to those who are gray

to brighten and

freshen their day,

have them wonder how

those soft petals found

them when they needed them



These petals would be

everlasting, would never

lose their color or scent,

would bring the memory

of when

someone above

was thinking specifically

of them.