pennymonetti.com

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personal perspectives | Musings from the Writer's Desk

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Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. A calm that swallows up the chaos. Until nothing remains the same. Except the graceful arc of the letter C. A sense of wonder that overshadows worldliness. Shaves away its hard shell. Shapes it into that silent O on a child’s face. When she sees the burst of fireworks. Transform the July sky. That is what I want. I want the joy that erases junkyard mindsets. And brings back the well of contentment. To stay alive in my soul.

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The Real Tragedy in Charleston | Musings from the Writer's Desk

https://termeldev.wordpress.com/2015/06/19/the-real-tragedy-in-charleston

Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. The Real Tragedy in Charleston. Wow And then the statement made later that we should be focusing on the family of the young man and the families of those who lost loved ones and not focus on the perpetrator. To hold in prayer the families involved in the tragedy,. Sides of the families (please note here the compassion being shown the Roof family as well as the families of those killed). How boring it would be if we all agreed a...

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nature poems | Musings from the Writer's Desk

https://termeldev.wordpress.com/observations

Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. The sun, a star in its own right. Glares at the moon. The early evening sky. Glowering, the sun sits on the horizon. Spreading rays of pink, purple, gray. As it becomes more angered, the colors. Turn to reds and oranges. And the sun tries to stare down the moon. The moon sits coolly in its own space. Contemplating the sun’s displeasure. But giving not an inch. In fact, moving forward into. At last the sun begins to sink. Into a...

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photographs | Musings from the Writer's Desk

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Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. Eye made up of pellets. Gorilla out of forks. Mural made of leaves. This hung alongside the stairway at the B.O.B. and was made up of belts. Giant belt made up of belts. This eye is made up of hundreds of photos. The center of the eye is a cross. The work was displayed on the side of a building and was done by Todd and Brad Reed, friends I met at my conference. They own Reed Photography up north. The City–recyled materials.

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The Forgotten Ones | Musings from the Writer's Desk

https://termeldev.wordpress.com/2015/04/06/the-forgotten-ones

Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. Everyone asked after Mom. How was Anne? She didn’t look sick. Was she in need of anything? She seemed fine in church on Sunday. Did she get around all right? Was she staying healthy? How was the disease progressing? I try very hard to let those earthly angels know that they are in my prayers along with the one they care for. They are heroes, every one of them. I know it’s lonely work, I know they’re exhauste...You have such a g...

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character sketches | Musings from the Writer's Desk

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Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. A tribute to Tony Hoagland. Music comes through the speaker system. It rests on the air. As though the lyrics were telling a. Toby sits to the side of the bar. He knows the words to the song. Hums along with the melody. An occasional phrase working its way. Out of his mouth. For the bartender to hear. I hear him sing the words Dylan carved. Into his heart, snatches of red. In the hammer, the branch,. While the gazer watches.

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children’s poetry | Musings from the Writer's Desk

https://termeldev.wordpress.com/childrens-poetry

Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. It’s snowing and blowing. Too cold to go out. We’re going to be stuck. In the house for a while. Let’s have a picnic! Mom says with a smile. So out comes the blanket. And plates to set up,. The napkins, the silverware. Each gets a cup. We eat picnic food. Like burgers and chips,. And apples and oranges. With special fruit dips. Dessert, says our mom. Is the best picnic treat! She brings out the grahams. The chocolate so sweet,.

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Interview with Penny Monetti, Co-author of Honored to Serve, Guidance and Encouragement for Military Families in Transition - Heart Talk with Linda Rooks

http://www.lindarooks.com/2015/07/10/interview-with-penny-monetti-co-author-of-honored-to-serve-guidance-and-encouragement-for-military-families-in-transition

Heart Talk with Linda Rooks. Finding Hope in Unexpected Places. Meet Linda W. Rooks. Books by Linda Rooks. Broken Heart on Hold. Interview with Penny Monetti, Co-author of Honored to Serve, Guidance and Encouragement for Military Families in Transition. July 10, 2015. Linda: What motivated you to write books that inspire both military members and civilians to overcome life’s tough challenges? As boxes were packed for the thirteenth move, I reassured my children that they would make new friends. After sha...

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urban cameos | Musings from the Writer's Desk

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Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. Decline of the urban empire. Adults apply masks of smiles. Feigning life in Camelot. As witches, ghosts and goblins. Travel door to door. They distribute candy to masqueraders. Simultaneously falling apart under their own guise. Crumbling like pumpkin flesh. They leave only the grotesque smile. As evidence all is not well. Olfactory heaven (or not). The flavor of downtown varies. From corner to corner. With a muffin on the side.

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random thoughts | Musings from the Writer's Desk

https://termeldev.wordpress.com/random-thoughts

Musings from the Writer's Desk. Poems, stories and comments by Terri DeVries. Snow lies silent on the dormant ground. Clouds linger in the petulant sky. As time resolutely moves. Into a new year. Nothing is the same. The morning sun rises in the east. Slumbers westward as the. Stars wink at the moon. Nothing is the same. Filling the air with. Nothing is the same. From the day before. It will never be the same. It will never be the same. That strange segment in time. Between wake and sleep. It is the sound.