Catch It #devotion #football #poetry


Toss determines the start

a mere flip a coin falls

snap into another’s hands

numbers roll with the ball

so much rests on a moment

but you will never see the heart

as man looks at appearance

God sees past the start

all the money in your grasp

can’t be measured against the stars

“what are they playing for?” a child asks


“The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

1 Samuel 16:7


Luke 16:15
He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight.

John 8:15
You judge by human standards; I pass judgment on no one.


I love watching football but over the years the love for the game, the athleticism, the challenge has been tainted by the money for the players and for the sponsors. Saying that, I hope your heart is touched by this lost puppy Budweiser ad.


Drawn Together… #oneshotwednesday #poetry

My first sweep of your jawline

a shade around your nose

caught on your eyes

what happened who knows


I sketched until dawn

a face that I’d rendered

then why were my lips

shaking and tender


I peered deeper

you looked back at me

what had I done

had I set my love free?


To settle on a face

the one of my dreams

Oh what a fool

to believe in such schemes


I continued to draw

each night until dawn

nothing changed

what had gone wrong?


Hearing a sound

before the sun rose

a knock on the door

could it be? I don’t know


There you stood

rays circling your face

the man in my drawing

it was you in this place

I recently started drawing again. I have spent hours, days on a face. I imagined what it would be like to draw someone into existence ~ Voila!

It is celebration time – One Stop Poetry is one year old. Join the talented community of poets – share your work with us today!

Dave Kleinschmidt

What will this day hold??? (One Shot Poetry)

On this day

I am faced

with a barrage

of questions …

Who is that  in the mirror?

How can it be?

How did I get here?

Is the little girl a woman now??

I was in a  dream

dressed in white

long dark hair

on top of my head

I wore  a veil

the scent of flowers

wafted in the breeze


A man was there

looked into my eyes

his smile took my fears away

our hands

were joined


I turn from the girl

face the  man

We say

“I do”


My questions are answered

The girl  is no more

the woman is held close

in the arms of the man

she loves.


I hope you enjoy the photography of my friend Florin. Go to his website to see is gallery

Yes it’s another day to celebrate great poetry at One Shot Wednesday. Please come join in the fun.


From Boy To Man (guest poet Pete Marshall)

In time was once
A youthful man
Who raised his love
With tender hands
But love can die
In drudging style
As children spurn
Their shattered dreams.
Whilst lust withholds
A strangled whim
That tore through souls
And tortured him
He yearned & ached
For wanton things
Yet lost his life
In search of thee.
History speaks
Of journeys past
And those who walk
A lonely path
And as the moon
Is led away
Enslaved by dawn
This waking day
He looks out far
Across the blue
In thought of times
He doubted you.
The sun bore down
On ragged cliffs
As grass turned brown
In shaded crags
And winds tore through
His withered bones
As dryness scorched
His ravaged lips.
Gulls that cried
& rode the breeze
And tears that spat
On fallen leaves
On sodden ground
Which once was green
Friends spoke words
That drove him on.
As light seeps in
& journeys far
Through open mouth
Beyond the depths
It travels down
To hold the root
Of ravaged doubts
And masked regrets.
Whilst friends would lead
Their merry lives
You looked beyond
Your loving wife
And spat a taste
Of foul disease
That sneered at life
And all you see.
Now as you stand
Upon this cliff
And count the flags
That gently bob
That mark the traps
Ensnared by Man
For those who trace
Their lobster pots
A chilling breeze
Will wake a tree
That stirs & drops
Its weary leaves
A voice is hushed
But fraught in tones
From boy to man
You walk alone.
Thank you to Pete Marshall for sharing his beautiful poem on my site. Go to
Thanks to quinn.anya for the photograph “Man Alone”