Her Smile by Susan Vanderwerff

Her smile. Etched deeply into precious impressions on my heart.

Her smile. So breathtakingly beautiful I am often overwhelmed.

Her smile. Connecting and stretching up to her eyes display her sincerity.

Her smile. Others say she has my smile and my heart giggles deep down.

Her smile. Sweeter than the bees’ nectar draws you to her.

Her smile. Reveals the very essence of her meek tenderness.

Her smile. I close my eyes and allow my mind to replay a movie that celebrates moments my child smiled.

Her smile. As our eyes lock, I hope she understands the depth of my utter adoration.

Her smile.  Motivates me to joyously endure another day of this solitude.

Her smile. Captivates and consumes my daily thoughts.

Her smile. That delightful dimple. Need I say more?

Her smile. Me in it. Him in it. Mixed together by the fingers of my God to create the apple of my eye.

Her smile. Utterly in credible. Extremely unforgettable. Simply divine.

Her smile make me smile. What else could be more beautiful?

7CWP BC Fill in the blank Front




That ONE Voice by Susan Vanderwerff

To hear one’s voice express love is a blessing incomparable to any other expression.

To hear one’s voice express hate cuts deeper than any two-edged sword.

To hear my son’s voice after one year of silence brings me to my knees physically and emotionally.

The timbre of his voice is deeper now as he changes from boy to man, but I still hear him call me Mommy, and I suddenly become engulfed with that powerful love that I felt when I first conceived him.

To hear his voice waver with emotion overwhelmed me to the depth of my soul. While not being able to speak, my tears and gasps for air communicate millions of emotions, words that do not need to be spoken as I listen to my son’s voice.

I can’t get back these hundreds of days I didn’t hear his voice, but I choose to re-live his words, “I love you, Mommy,” as my heart aches and celebrates at the same time.

That ONE voice. So precious. So valuable. His ONE voice. So completes me.




Oh, how I’d like to take a road trip

to a place I’ve never been. Somewhere tropical, not too hot. Somewhere where I can freely be me. A place where there’s no pain and no more tears. I’d lay comfortable, in nakedness on the sand without the fear of judging eyes. I’d walk in confidence along the shore and feel the light breezes on my skin. I’d swim through the waters with the embrace of peace overwhelming all senses. I’d stare off into the distant sky, and use my eyes to draw pictures in the clouds. This place would be my safe haven away from all things evil and upsetting in the world. My road trip would be one like to other.

Jodi McGinnis


My Aniya, My Sunshine by C. Johnson

We run to the park on a hot summer day

for I know she won’t want to leave

but sure enough like to stay


We roll around in the grass, then start

to scratch and itch for it too will pass


She climbs the stairs and goes down

the slide. I can’t help but smile as

she glides


I watch as she goes to the swings

and yells, “Push me, Mommy!”


After the swings, we play with a ball,

throwing it back and forth


As the sun goes down, on the way

home, my daughter says she has had

fun. I pick her up and give her a

big hug and kiss.


forsithia copy

Six Word Memoirs by Susan Vanderwerff

  • Youngest of three longing for acceptance.
  • A woman aching to be cherished.
  • Offering kindness but expecting nothing back.
  • My life is much too complicated.
  • Realizing purpose in punishment is incredible.
  • My pain is seen through tears.
  • Look at my heart before judging.
  • Learn to live without hiding myself.
  • Yesterday’s choices won’t define me today.
  • Passion burning from the inside out.
  • Your rejection will not undo me.
  • Stay calm. You can do this!
  • Love freely given waiting to receive.
  • Turning this mistake into beautiful contentment.
  • Accept me fully. Expect my devotion.
  • My mind is a masterpiece unfolding.
  • Tears flowing are washing me clean.
  • Hope is God’s promise for me.
  • Love deeply. Pray fervently. Watch God.
  • Mommy and son. Blue eyes shared.
  • Momma and daughter. My greatest achievement.
  • Hugs. Kisses. Mother and children united.
  • Yeshua. Emmanuel. El Shaddai. My truest friend.
  • Living with a pure heart always.
  • Youth is fleeting. Don’t be swayed.
  • Longing to unwrap life’s next gift.
  • Never forget. Don’t dwell. Move forward.


Legend by Nakita Lynch


People have different interpretations of what a legend is. Some say it’s an old myth. Some even say it’s a story passed down. Well, I actually don’t really know. All I know is I’m gon’ be my own LEGEND!

Not the ones of mythical adventures like Tarzan or King Kong. More like Miss Jane Pittman or probably Lena Horne. Betta yet, more like Ms. Maya Angelou. Yea, that’s it!

I could put my own twist on it. I could become this famous writer/poet and travel all around the globe signing autographs; speak publicly at White House dinners. I could tell my OWN STORY! Sit beside the Obamas and tell them how I got this far through it all. I could open up my own colleges and schools and be remembered as THE ONE! Shit…I might get my own holiday. LOL.

But I can guarantee you this: Everybody’s gon’ know my name and remember me like a LEGEND!

My Daddy by Shariff Lumillia Parker

I am a daddy’s girl, even though he’s long gone. Died when I was only ten. But the memories I still hold to this day will never leave my mind. He named me, you know.  I wonder what was he thinking when he came up with it. I’ll never know cause he’s gone.

The last memory I remember was shortly before he died. He said, “Shariff, I’m coming to see you and your brother for Easter.” So I watched and waited for him to come every day. Every car that pulled up I thought it was my daddy. He never came. My grandmother told me he had passed and was cremated. I was devastated.

I cried because I wanted him to tell me everything will be all right. That he didn’t mean to give me and my brother up. That he was going to rescue us and take us back home.

But if I could speak to him now I would tell him that I miss him and love him and thank him for sending me and my brother to Virginia. He was definitely thinking about his babies’ future.


Steps by Lumillia P.

Step by step, how hard and so

easy at the same time. Why

can’t I at least make one? You

know what? I need to stop beating

myself up! I am making steps.

Positive steps! I am coming to

class instead of being in the

block. I am making steps to rebuild

my relationships with my children

and family. I am also making steps

for my future beyond these walls.

They say, take one day at a time.

I say, take one step at a time. Even if they’re

baby ones.