The writer, homemaker, wife, mother, grandmother, hiker, sewer, cook, author of Biblical fiction, and devotional writer; all for His glory and by His help.
Maybe you’ve noticed we have a talented group of authors from the “Apron String”series. (A new series being released next year. You can find us on Facebook.) Besides writing fiction, I have a passion to pen poetry. Not any type of verse, but lines capturing God’s Creation.
“Nature Poetry” is the first book in the “Scribbling Spiritual Sand” series and is my most recent poetry works. Each poem includes Bible inspiration. The poems are mainly based on the four seasons I experience in Wisconsin. I hope they’ll be a blessing to you as you wait for the fourth book in the “Apron Series”, “Beatrice” taking place in 1950.
Fall’s blissful colors spill from tidy garden bed sublime sweet scents sing
Western Window
All is quiet out my western window, blooms have bowed their heads, moon has faded into a shrunken slice and song birds are tucked in their beds.
September slithers, while days sneak by. Darkness seeps past cracks of light, overtaking summer’s sweltering sunshine. Once again, Fall enters with great might.
Ears strain for bluebirds and wrens, going to my window which squeaks a scornful song and mournful tune. Only my floor creaks and steps speak.
Autumn has entered in; chased birds away, caused blooms to drop their prickly seeds, pushed tepid breezes miles to the south, and has done its dastardly, deadly deeds.
My hope is when seasons do change, I’d embrace what joys attaches to each; now the air will blow a blush on trees- while a new lesson God may daily teach.
P. Wolf
“… He said, “More than that, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” Luke 11:28
NATURE OF CONSTRUCTION
Layered beyond the rumble of traffic; Autumn birds call in from the distance. They care not of coming change, as long as they can bellow their merry sober song.
Buried beneath lengthy marsh grass, Fall crickets sing a lovely lulling call. They worry not of the rumbling noise; humming, strumming song of choice.
Above in skies which gleam slate blue; migrating birds now traveling anew. They tour and soar the heavens high content and cheerful with not a worry.
Within the dewy forest floor, I now spy white tailed deer and wild turkey hidden. They hunker down waiting for some relief alert, alarmed, annoyed by traffic grief.
Upon my gravel driveway I engage; moaning of my morning stroll’s change. I care more of my daily walking habitat than road repair with so much traffic.
Perhaps, it may be one of God‘s design; for a detour or two in earthly life’s decline. I see freedom in flocks of migrating birds and hear the joy in chipper cricket’s call.
I’ll willingly sport my new safety vest, pace my gravel driveway for the morn and whisper a prayer of good to bloom; as birds go south, while crickets swoon.
“For May thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. Isaiah 55:8
ROOTED
Along the banks of Turtle Creek, there stands a solitary tree. The sky ablaze behind its form, and murky waters slowly flow. In an isolated moment, I feel like a reclusive, remote, rooted tree; standing firm along Turtle Creek.
P. Wolf
“But his delight is in the law of the Lord, And in His law he meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper.” Psalm 1:2-3
Coming in 2024
You can join all 11 authors on Facebook at: The Apron String’s Reader Group where weekly we post tidbits about our upcoming books. Step into 1920, 1930, 1940 and all the way through 2020; enjoying historical facts about the decades. P. Wolf
Scarlet dancers drip, drop in fragile pools and piles crackle under foot.
I ponder long and well this vine the state of things to come; the religious prophecy of some.
It’s been a long decade or two, since I tucked this vine in earth waiting patiently for flower’s birth.
Tangerine trumpet vine easily grows, adapts and resilient in loosen soil; the gardener has no need to toil.
I waited long and well for its bloom, as days faded to years then more; my gardener hands not worn or sore.
No need, they said to primp or labor; it’s a vine in sun or shade that thieves, yet, my garden has seen so many lives;
void of blossoms and bird alike. Brilliant flowers did not bloom nor humming birds buzz their tune.
What lesson came ms to be learned from years unfolded from the past? I think of that great trumpet blast!
One day His great return will come. Gathered with be the grateful elect so glorious, and much more I suspect.
All happens in God’s appointed time. It’s just this year my vine has bloomed. Many little lambs are lost and doomed.
What suitable structure supports you? Is it the influence of holy God or man? How rich is the spiritual soil in your land?
“And He will send forth His angels with A GREAT TRUMPET BLAST, and THEY WILL GATHER TOGETHER His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other.” Matthew 24:31
Writing Updates
My draft books should arrive by September 6. I’m so excited about this new series!Here’s a peek at my new children’s series, Teddy’s Tales. I’ll be finishing the manuscript soon. This story is perfect for all kids, especially little boys!
A Verse to Ponder
Writing for Kids
How to drawn children to Christian living in your story:
Express thankfulness and praise God in your story
Show forgiveness in your scenes
Engage your characters with the Bible
Have your characters talk about Jesus
Characters should live some of the “Fruits of the Spirit” (love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control)
Conflict can show a struggle with sin, but resolve it with repentance
Implement characters from the pages of Scripture
As a writer grown in your own relationship with Jesus
The Skimmer
You delicate skimmer dragonfly perched boldly upon tender leaf, as summer breeze tickles wings.
Gentle meadowhawks that soar, then darts about cluttered prairies where steady rings buzzing bugs.
You breed in steamy country ponds as summer now fades to early fall, where crickets play their soft lullaby.
Come now you northern darters, live your life among grassy meadow eat where succulent shoots shiver.
Your turn is now at hand to fly high, across northern kindly skies filled tightly with coming autumn’s bliss!
“If take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, And Your right hand shall hold me.” Psalm 139:9-10
“Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary.”
Here is a sneak peek, from an early draft, of my story “Abigail’s 40 Days”. The story revolves around the “so-call” rumors that Jesus rose from the dead. There’s been several sightings, but Abigail doubts as her mission is to find who killed her brother. Join her as she lives through a time when the early church was being established.
I had never seen Nathanael so worked up.
“I heard from the other disciples that the guards watching over Jesus’s tomb had been given a large sum of money to claim we disciples stole the body under the darkness of night.” Nathanael’s voice filled with rage as perspiration beaded on his forehead.
Joanna and Silas had been in a deep conversation when they had become aware of Nathanael frustration. Even Mary had finished her cleaning as the last of the clanging pans where hung on the wall. All three joined us where we stood.
“What has you so concerned Nathanael.” Silas put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Calm down, brother, can we pray about the problem?”
I saw Nathanael turn a shade of red.
He stopped pacing. “I’m sorry friends. Sometimes I get angered over the injustice shown to us Jews. I just do not understand the rumors and lies that are building up over Jesus’s resurrection.”
Silas broke out in laughter. “My dear friend, it is not every day a dead man returns to life. Some think Jesus caused great problems for the priests while He was on the earth. Can you image what they think He will do now that He has come back to life?”
Patti Wolf 