Pro Bono

“I’m sorry to bother you but I need some legal advice.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” said the young attorney. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, the thing is, and I want to be honest about it up front, I don’t have any money.”
The lawyer looked surprised. The Man was resplendent in what must surely be pure gold as He shined brightly every time He moved.

“I see. Well, the first visit is free, so come on in.”

He directed the Man into his office. “Please take a seat.”

As the Man sat, the lawyer’s memory pricked. He just knew he had seen the Man somewhere before but couldn’t quite place Him. “Tell me your story.”

“I need someone to represent Me in court.”
“Are You being sued?”

“Sort of. Actually, I’m being told by many of My supporters that I’ve lost my rights. I’d like to have them back, please.” “
"What rights have You lost, Sir?”

“I’ve lost the right to be Me.”

At the puzzled lawyer’s expression, the Man continued.

“A long time ago, I decided what I wanted most out of life was a family. So I created one. My firstborn was Adam. He was lonely and when I introduced him to the lovely Eve they were very happy for a while. She made a mistake. I admit it angered Me at the time but I forgave them. That’s what family does, right? But they were on their own for a little while. Still, when they turned to Me, I was there. Then My family got larger. Generations upon generations of family…you know, young man, you’re part of My family tree also.” “

You’re…God, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I don’t understand, God. You can do anything. Why would You need an attorney?”

“Because of mankind’s free will. No one wants to be loved because he or she has to be. We all want to be accepted for who we are, even Me. But now people are complaining about how I’m sticking my nose into their business. I’m not, you know. I’m just a concerned Father but I don’t make their decisions for them. I just ask that they stop making Mine for Me and for anyone who agrees with me.”

God looked at the young lawyer with tears in His eyes.

“You see, child, I gave my beloved Son to the world so that they would know how much I love them. I’m worshipped in many ways and in many religions. But the religion named after my Son has been denigrated and stripped of their rights to celebrate Me except in the privacy of their homes and their churches, thereby denying Me of My rights as well. Now they’re being told it’s wrong to celebrate my Son’s birthday!”

God took a breath.

“I don’t want to take away the free will of anyone and I won’t. But if I told you how many times those same people call upon Me in the dark of the night…how many times they curse Me yet still turn to Me when in need…you’d be surprised. I’ve been blamed for a great many things in the world, child, the latest of which are tsunamis and attacks on countries. I cry when people ask ‘Where was God?’ because I’ve been here all along waiting to be let in.”

He paused.

The attorney said, “I’ll take your case, God.”

“I have no money.”

“You don’t need it. I’ll do it pro bono. You paid for everything two thousand years ago on the cross. It’s the very least I can do.”

The papers announced it within a week. God was fighting for His rights. Which side are you on? I’m on His. In the long run, God always wins.

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving Day

Is it true?  Is he here?  Or is this just a dream?

I stand and stare as he sleeps there...could it really be?

 

A year ago I didn't know if my prayers would come true;

Thanksgiving Day, yet far away, a son in danger, too.

 

So many times I truly cried, would he make it home again?

I stayed awake, what would it take for this nightmare to end?

 

I touch the face brought home by grace of a child that's been to war;

As he opens his eyes I realize I love him even more.

With a sheepish grin (Mom's caught again), standing over her first-born son;
He says "Yes, Mom, I'm really home.  Are the turkey and stuffing done?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeping Caroline



 

 

 

Weeping Caroline

 

Fifty years ago, you turned to find him gone;

Somehow in her grief, your mother carried on.

She raised you and your brother with a lot of love and care;

With such a family legacy, the load was hard to bear.

 

For Camelot has faltered, there's been pain along the way;

First a sibling stillborn, then little Patrick Bouvier.

Then only three months later your father bid adieu;

He never meant to hurt or abandon you.

 

You still had little John John and your mother held you close;

Off to Uncle Bobby in sanctuary you did go.

Then suddenly (how could it be?) but yes, it's truly so;

Bobby was assassinated...to Greece you had to go.

 

A reprieve seemed apparent as you grew to womanhood;

Weeping Caroline was replaced with one who's values stood.

You held firm to your beliefs and had a life along the way;

Then tragedy's sudden reminder--your mother passed away.

 

We saw you there beside your brother...a lady of style and class;

Who would have dared to whisper Death again would show it's mask.

The Prince of Camelot...how we loved to see him reign;

Yet again, we all wept, when tragedy struck his plane.

 

Weeping Caroline, we pray the tragedies are done;

It's time for only goodness for your daughters and your son.

We know the Royal Family of Camelot looks on;

To guide you in your destiny as in you they live on.

 

The Quiet Prayers of War

Oh, God, help us through this day,

I can't believe it's not a dream;

Just months ago I was on my way,

To a party with Miss Bobbie Lee.

Now here I am in Vietnam,

What is all the shouting for?

Help us through and I'll write to her -

The quiet prayers of wars.

 

Oh, God, look, how sad to see

A New York tower hit by a plane;

A tragic accident on the news

Oh my God! It's happening again!

What?! The Pentagon is hit they say  

And in Pennsylvania another plane makes four;  

Civilian heroes fought to take it over
 

The quiet prayers of wars.

 

Lord, see the face in this picture frame?

 

My oldest child is just nineteen.

He has too much life ahead,

He has yet to live his dreams.

There is no wife, no college degree,

Film school is what he joined up for.

Watch over him and keep him safe -

The quiet prayers of wars.

What if Jesus Called You?

 

 

What if Jesus called you?

Would you answer the phone?

Or would you let it ring,

Pretending you're not home?

What if Jesus text you?

Would you answer on your cell?

His words are from the Bible,

The truth it surely tells.

What if Jesus sent you

A Facebook friend request?

Would you just ignore it

Then blame the internet?

What if Jesus told you

Forgiveness would not be yours?

Would you have to agree

Knowing you'd withheld it before?

Jesus doesn't use a phone

He doesn't use the internet;

He isn't going to Facebook you

A text will not be sent.

Forgiveness is yours,

He paid your debt long ago:

You might want to think about it

Would you want Him to say no?

From Inspiration to Poem

 

 

A brain and a heart met at the park one day.

They realized they felt a special connection.

Together they created inspiration.

That inspiration then created...a poem.

Guardian Angel

Guardian Angel, watch over me;

Show me the path to my destiny.

Do you know why I'm here today

When so many others have traveled your way?

 

 

Guardian Angel, help me understand;

How I fit in to God's greater Plan.

When I get discouraged, confused and afraid;

Please re-assure me to keep my faith.

 

Guardian Angel, two more favors please;

Could you hug my loved ones? Tell them it's from me.

Also tell the Good Lord to use me at His will;

I'm keeping the faith as I climb life's hill.



My Yellow Pad

I still, even in the computer age, love to write in long-hand.  When my son was deployed, I sat for hours on the front porch in the early hours drinking coffee and writing on my yellow pad.  Part of me did so in fear that if an "official" car pulled up, I didn't want one of my younger two children answering the door.  Part of it was because my son whispered to me to get back into writing the morning he left for the Middle East.  I had put it aside for years until he whispered that in my ear.

So that's what I do...I write.  Then when I put it on the computer, I edit it.  I love and write all genres: poetry, fiction (mystery, romantic, paranormal, humor), children's stories, songs.  I enjoy putting newsletters together and well, anything having to do with writing.  What's your creative passion?  Follow it and it will lead you to where you are meant to be. 

For those who can't read the words written on the pad, it's this:

My Yellow Pad

 

Outside it is raining

so I sit here with my pen;

Writing little notes to

all my cherished friends.

 

My many pans are "on the fire"

I have so much to do;

Edit this, finish that,

Write a poem or two.

 

But all is right within my world

as the rain comes pouring down;

I have my coffee, pen and paper--

so let's go another round.

 

For nothing is more pleasing to me

than to take a yellow pad;

And fill it with words from my soul

whether good or bad.

 

 

Welcome to Poetry Portraits by Monica

Writing poetry has always been a passion for me.  It is a way of expressing myself, my feelings, what I want to say but sometimes can't say out loud.  Poetry portraits are something I actually started as a child according to my mom.  She said I would draw pictures or cut them out and glue them on paper and write a poem to go with them.  That was before the modern-day computer age. 

Today, I do them for others as well as friends and family.  I have been told I could charge even more than the $20.00 I charge for a unique poem written just for them that has a picture, background and is framed but honestly?  I am already paid more than money could buy.  Just last night at an event, I heard a friend tell someone about a poetry portrait she ordered from me for her husband one Valentine's Day just a few months before he passed away.  She said he told her it was one of the nicest things she had ever given him.  To me, those type of reviews are as a priceless as the sentimental gift I am able to help so many give to their loved ones through a poetry portrait. 

I set up this blog to encourage others to write and to talk about my Poetry Portrait passion.  I will share poems from time to time and I hope that you enjoy them.  I will generally use the theme of whatever month or time it is with whatever poem I share.  I won't share ones that I have written for others as gifts to their loved ones because they were purchased and are owned by them. 

Today, however, I want to share this with you.  No matter who you are, you ARE.  No matter your age, you ARE.  Follow your dreams, find your own Oscar Moments in Time.  Whether your talent is writing, drawing, singing, etc., you can and are someone special.  Share that special part of you with the world by using your talent.