As we get older My Love, the waves often seem colder now,

or is it the wind against us? But as the sun disappears

I still feel the warmth of your hand, and our peace

covering us, along with the eternal embers

of our love, down in the core

of our beings.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

As the Wind Gently Whispers


As the wind gently whispers through the pine trees, I often think of us

when we were young, allowing the lake to pour

into us, and God’s light was bright

 back then, for both of us,

as if I was awakened

 for the first time.


Seeing you, through living leaves, and your reflection

 in the water, made pine trees and the oaks, seem much more important

And now I love how the pines still speak to us

confirming our love, and that we are part

of a larger plan, as our lives

complete their blending.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

It Was Worth It


As the bus driver watched the old couple, help each other off the bus, one with a cane, and the other with a walker, she did offer to help. But the two knew each other so well, they knew when to hold on, and when to step down.

The bus driver hesitated, as she watched them walk away slowly. And as she closed the door and took her foot off the brake, she saw the husband lean over and pick a wildflower off of a bush, and give it to his wife. It was a little blue flower. She wondered how long the old couple had been married, as she smiled from ear to ear.

The bus driver was changed that day, and decided that love was worth it after all. She would try love again……someday.


Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies



I still remember Dad, when we use to fish along the river, and how you loved the water. I love the water now a lot more than I used to, and if I had had the money back when, I would have bought you a boat.

Remember the baseball games Dad? Jim Palmer was pitching back then. Boog Powell, Davie Johnson, Mark Belanger, and Brooks Robinson on the infield. I can’t remember the outfield too well, except for Paul Blair. That guy was amazing, as he ran to catch the ball. It was the golden age of the Baltimore Orioles.

And we both loved fast cars. Did you know Dad, they make dragsters now for teens? Of course they have the engines behind the driver, for safety purposes.

And I still remember your favorite meal, roast beef sandwiches at the mall.

I wish you were still alive, Dad. I could sure use your advice right now.

Thanks for everything though. You know I miss you.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

Living at 71

older woman

Contemporary Microfiction

At seventy years old Sadie Ferguson was still a beautiful woman, both inside and out. She had only one problem, she was afraid to leave her house. There were so many reasons to stay indoors, the weather was too hot or too cold. Crime was everywhere, and she no longer drove, because it was just way too dangerous. Too many cars were on the road, and people drove too fast anyway. She had not left her house in twelve years.

It was a good house, and even though it needed repairs now and again, she felt safe. The fact was, she was too scared to go anywhere else. When she did need a repairman, she always made him take his shoes off at the front door, and she watched him like a hawk, to make sure he didn’t steal anything. The sooner the man left, the better. She didn’t feel safe until he was driving away in his work truck. delivery truck

Food was not a problem. She could have whatever she wanted delivered to her door, even groceries. She even opened the door occasionally when she had to pay the delivery person. She hated seeing the horrifying sky, and the menacing bright sun. It was too open out there too.

The neighborhood had been changing and this was very disturbing to her. Since she liked things to stay the same, different people living right next to her, made her feel like the world was much too close for comfort. There was the Mexican family across the street. They not only had children that were noisy, but they were always playing in the street!

Then one day a new family moved in next door, after Dan Carruthers died. The house was sold, and the Singh family moved in. They seemed so different, they frightened her. Would they try to harm her? She kept her distance, and when the woman, with two teenage daughters stopped by, to pay her a visit, she wouldn’t answer the door. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she felt she like she couldn’t trust them.

It was the night of her seventy first birthday when everything changed. She was sound asleep when she was awakened by pounding on her front door, and there was a man yelling, “Get out of the house!” Suddenly the same man came banging on her bedroom window, and yelling, “Get out of the house!” “Mrs. Ferguson!”, “You must get out of the house!” It was her worst nightmare! Who was it? Were they going to kill her? She was so alone. The only thing she could do was reach for the phone. Before she could dial for help, she smelled the smoke.

fire at nightShe jumped out of bed, and ran to the living room, paralyzed with fear and asthma. She stared at her living room wall that was engulfed with fire. She couldn’t breathe! She ran for the front door and threw it open. It was Mr. Singh! She was terrified of him, and didn’t know which way to turn. He stood there yelling, for her to come out of the house! It was the bravest thing she had ever done. She took one step, and fainted in his arms.

The fire department did get there in a hurry but there was a lot of damage. Sadie was terrified but didn’t want to leave the Singh house. The Singh family were filled with compassion for Sadie, and they called her daughter in California for her. Her daughter would come, but the Singhs decided that Sadie could stay at their house as long as she wanted.

By the way, both Mr. and Mrs. Singh were medical doctors. Dr. Raj Singh, and Dr. Miriam Singh helped Sadie to gradually overcome her fear. Sadie and the Singh family became the best of friends. Sadie realized that it was after her husband had died, twelve years ago, that the fear began. She just did not feel safe in this world, without him. Just realizing this, brought healing to her. After all this time, she was just learning how to live again.

 purple iris


 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Two Wounded Hearts

yoga classContemporary Microfiction

Note: This is a completely different story from the one posted earlier today, with different people and circumstances. I’m not sure how today became a love story day, but it sure did! 

It was one of the bravest things he had even done. He was asking Allison if she would like to go out with him. They had been going to the same yoga class for three months now, and they had both been friendly towards each other, but this was going the next step. As they stood outside that beautiful spring evening, he was thinking about her hair. It was a beautiful shade of light brown, almost blonde.

Sharon had passed away three years ago, from the cancer, and when she finally left this world, she had no hair. Reduced to skin and bones, he wasn’t really sure if it was the cancer, or the chemo that had killed her. But now it was a time of courage, to get on with his life. He was scared to death of talking to Allison, but he needed to step out. It was an act of faith really. They were talking now about her hobbies.

Allison was also scared to death. She swore she would never trust another man. Her ex-husband Ron had beat her to a pulp, in a drunken rage, and put her in the hospital. She never saw him again, and never wanted to. Signing the divorce papers was easy. Yet here she was two years later talking to Gary. She had never met a more gentle man in her life, and he was good looking. As they talked, she kept thinking about what it would be like to be held in his arms. She wanted him to tell her, she was safe.

And then he said it, “Would you like to go out to dinner?” She smiled. He said, “I know this great Italian place.” She said, “I’m a vegetarian.” He was thinking, when she suggested an Indian restaurant. “It’s my favorite place.”, she said. He lit up with a smile and they agreed on a time. It was Tandoori. He loved Indian food!

The nervousness was beginning to fade, when they said goodnight to each other in the parking lot. He was 41 and she was 39. He was thinking, how big of step he had just taken. Would he be able to tell her about Sharon, and the flashbacks he kept having? He was terrified of hospitals now.

She was thinking, that maybe she was too old for love, but she was taking the big step of at least trying. Would she be able to be intimate with him? Would she freeze up in the middle of it? She had no idea, but she was going to try if it came to that. Then she realized she was getting of herself. The she told herself, “One step at a time Allison…..one step at a time….”



 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Rosa Gonzalez

Here’s a story I wrote around Christmas time.

Ancient Skies

from 500px from 500px

Microfiction in the spirit of the Christmas Season

Rosa Gonzalez was finished with living, it was simply too painful to keep going. Carlos had left her in the middle of night, and she thought he was a good one. Now she knew, there were no good ones. Love just didn’t make any sense, it was garbage.

She managed to get herself ready for work, and she forced herself to keep going. She walked down the street all bundled up, to her job at the fast food restaurant. She was going to end everything for sure, but right now she just needed more time to think about it.

It was a miserable day at work, with the younger women on her case again about being too slow. What made it worse was, they put her down in Spanish, so the manager never knew what they said. They called her…

View original post 586 more words

The Rocking Chairs

Two Chairs

Contemporary Microfiction

He always said that when Amy left this world, he would too. He always said that, so much so, his children no longer doubted it. Neighbors checked on them every day, expecting that if one of them was gone, the other would not be far behind.

George and Amy Hargrove were 89 and 87 years young now. They had seen it all. The neighborhood wasn’t as safe as it used to be, but that didn’t stop them from sitting on their front porch when the weather was nice. He would read the paper, or a book on military history, and Amy would listen to the radio with ear buds, as they rocked back and forth. She had given up knitting a long time ago, because the arthritis got her, and it hurt her bad. They sat in their rockers, most warm days, and sometimes they talked. You don’t stay married for more than 60 years without being best friends.

Amy was a talker, and he loved their conversations about almost anything. If he wasn’t interested he would pretend to listen, so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings. They loved talking about the birds they saw come by. They always kept the bird book in between their rockers, when they were on the porch.

One summer day a young man walked up to their porch and said, “Give me all your money!” George looked up and smiled at the young man, who was maybe 15, and said, “Son go on home, before you get hurt, or get into trouble.” This only irritated the teenager, and he said while pulling out a knife, “Don’t make me hurt you!”

“Son put that away, someone could get hurt”, George said, as he reached beneath the seat of the rocking chair, and pulled out a loaded 38 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver (with the 6 inch barrel). He continued, “Ain’t you ever seen a Clint Eastwood movie?” The young man’s jaw dropped as he stared at the gun. “Now go on scoot.” said George. As the young man left hurriedly, George yelled, “If you come back tomorrow, we’ll fix you a meal, but leave the knife at home!”

The young man was too embarrassed to show his face around there again. After Amy told that story to the neighbors, the word got out to everyone in the neighborhood. No one ever bothered them again. Don’t mess with George and Amy they said.

One day, they did pass away. He was in the kitchen, and she was relaxing in the living room. They went just like George said they would, within minutes of each other. Neither of them knew about the other. He had been having heart problems but didn’t tell anybody. Cancer had slowly been eating away at her, and she was glad when the pain stopped.

Months later, no one would buy the house, because it seemed like George and Amy were still there. Two white images could often be seen, when the real estate agent, Lisa Thompson, was showing the house. Ms. Thompson was not scared of them, but the buyers panicked and always left quickly. The images were always together, separate, but side by side. Sometimes it looked like they were holding hands.

Speaking of hands, one time Ms. Thompson came to check on the house, by herself. When she went to the kitchen – she was certain that she saw a set of hands, on top of each other and holding one another, on the kitchen table. They were not just white images, they looked real, and she could see huge wrinkles of skin. She backed out of there, and locked the door. As she turned to leave, she noticed the rocking chairs on the front porch were moving back and forth, back and forth, yet there was no one in them, and there was no wind blowing that day.

She never went back there again. It was all just too much for her.

Old Couple

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from pinterest

Christmas Lights

from nancymaggielee.hubpages.com
from nancymaggielee.hubpages.com

When I see Christmas lights I feel young again,

the colors and wonder of it all,

opening presents, sledding downhill,

gloves, knit hats, and trains.

Where did it all go?

I got lost, hearing harmful theologies,

get rid of Christmas they said.

Now, I’m taking back territory.

Thank you God for nature,

and beautiful people, from around the world,

for poetry and music,

art and culture,

the beauty of living,

for coffee, sunsets, and trees,

the ocean, mountains and rivers.

Help me to always have,


in this old heart of mine.

 Snow on Pine

Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Embers

Two Chairs

When we are very old, let’s go out on the front porch,

and sit in our matching rockers, enjoying each other,

wrapped in layers of quilts if it’s nippy,

soft love,

talking, reading a book, or reading a play together

outloud, laughing, disturbing the neighbors,

drunk on ice tea, with lemon.

Rocking back and forth, slow and steady,

wrinkled smiles,

desire never dying, softer now,

embers glowing, love.

Can I have your hand again?

Kiss me.


Two Kiss

Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree