Trembles only felt,
never seen by the world at large
have given roots strength.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
How do you catch a cloud
and pin it down?
Or corner a thing
that floats in wisps
ethereal wings?
Raise a hand and feel it weep,
cold drops to
spatter feet.
What heart could
pin it so,
speak the chastising word, no?
A nature not
made for earth.
Still waters hearts with tears of mirth.
Even when billows build,
muddled air, heated, then chilled.
Particles, a dancing clash
building energies full blast,
to strike the hand, pin poised.
A nature feared
also enjoyed.
You could never win.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Inspiration by:
‘Maria’
by Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers
It came skipping
in exuberance unchecked.
A child with something to say.
It left,
deflated.
Dismissed by the one it would engage,
and aged.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
.
Creak of staircase sounds.
Eyes through spindles peering.
“I’m thirsty Mommy.”
.
The clock ticks constant.
Refrigerator purring.
Air through nose louder.
.
Rolling over, pops.
Rejected sheets whisper,
one more bathroom trip.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
At Calla Press, we are unashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ and we desire to glorify His name above all else.
– SAMANTHA CABRERA, Calla Press Founder and Editor
It blessed me to be in the right online writing group at the right time to hear Samantha Cabrera’s announcement about reopening Calla Press. What a job they have done. The new website is gorgeous and the stories and voices they are amplifying do just what they claim their mission is all about. Glorifying Jesus Christ.
Calla Press is a Christian literary journal publishing articles, poetry, prose, flash fiction, creative none fiction, and photography.
– Calla Press Website
A huge thank you to the team for including my poem ‘Hope‘ in their web publications. I invite you all to head over to their website and read my piece, as well as the many other great words you will find there.
Mary Grace van der Kroef
Note: They receive submissions for the website on a rolling basis, and publish a print issue once a year. Submissions will open for that print issue in September.
This heart has slowed,
longs to linger here,
where the past is distant,
the future unclear.
A hesitancy
to pick up life’s pace,
a straining to remain firmly in place.
Give me grace.
Unlike a crossroad
where choices must be made.
More like a settling,
a sinking in
of ways.
Smell the resignation
come wafting on the wind.
Stagnation that lingers
on boots,
and trouser hem.
Mix it with the drums.
Foreboding rhythms felt,
clashing with a heartbeat.
Wearied,
yet compelled.
Standing amid the street,
holding baggage fast.
Wondering
how long this lump in throat will last.
Change coming fast.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Not perception,
not reaction,
but what is.
Under veils,
under paint,
chip it off to reveal
something feared.
Revered.
Held at arm’s length.
Don’t look too close
one might choke,
if unready to face.
Still it waits.
Can’t be erased,
for it still is.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
If one could step out on waves, feel the liquid coolness flow, where would you go? Ride the tide, watch moonlight collide with creatures, microscopic soul.
Would the waves tickle, just a little, as they suck the sands from shore? To carry feet towards retreat… Outwards or inwards?
Would you need to know?
Melted life, filled with organisms strife, worlds humans don’t control.
All beneath tiptoes.
Would you be vapor or the waters solid? Would a dream tie the waist and tether amid the stars? Just real enough to hold one above oceans bazaar?
Would you want to go?
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Eyes so tightly shut,
dark edges shimmer red.
Electric blotches
painted
in yellow’s glowing thread.
Irises grab light,
horde it within.
Just as eyes close in
peace,
cast it out, a twin.
Blink the shadows off.
Spots upon the wall.
Within the yellow
polka dots,
purple starts to crawl.
Shapes, haunting follow,
whether closed or open wide.
A secret theatre named,
Pains Entertainment Ride.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
No one saw me
head to the ground,
feet to the sky,
pretending to fly.
It would have made you cry
hilarity.
A grown woman such as me
behaving as if three.
But just maybe,
you would have joined
the jocularity.
Felt free
to again be three.
Sometimes I take myself too seriously. This is just self reminder that it’s okay, and good to be ridiculously sometimes. Yes, the cover image is of my actual feet. I thought it was cute.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Mary Grace Writing 