From Behind the Chair

From behind the chair,
Moments overheard, unheard,

photo prompt #52 for Magpie Tales

Days become the night.

Tall, grey, winged-back chair,
Nestled, wooden walls embrace,
Snuggled beyond life.

Chaos surrounds her,
Lives becoming lies untold,
Silently speaking.

Worlds falling apart,
Dreams entangled in their pain,
Lawyer's silent words.

Choices moments brought,
To redo or take erred paths,
Futures rewritten.

From behind the chair,
Moments overheard, unheard,
Her life crumbles still.

Petrina Lesko
February 2011


I wasn't sure what it was about this picture that it struck a sort-of writer's block when I saw it.  Thus I actually have pondered over, thru, beyond, understanding something had been stirred, when I checked out what this, the prompt for this weeks Magpie Tales was.  It has taken a couple of days, but here is my offering this week.  Kind of dark, but hope you all enjoyed it.

A Child's First Call to Serve

 I've sat here pondering this picture, this weeks prompt over at Magpie Tales hosted by Willow.  Then I read over a few of the other takes, and again sat here pondering this picture.  Throughout this time, my thoughts kept running back to a cold winter's night long ago, a white blanket covering the roads, icicles dangling from the evergreen trees.  As I was about to enter the church for a Christmas Eve service late in the evening, I glanced to the sky as the flakes again began to fall.  There, up high, the stained glass window, very similar to this, caught my attention as the streetlight rays bounced off of the babe, sending a ray to the ground in front of where I stood.  And then as I entered the building, the pastor called me to his office, he had a request of me....

A Child's First Call to Serve

I sat quietly nervous, wondering why,
This night of all nights, the Eve of your birth,
Be it that he would ask of me to help, why,

picture prompt #45 for Magpie Tales

What did he know of my time here on earth?

How could he know it was my time to serve You,

My knees bounced, tapping nerves, reading a psalm,

Welling up in my heart, eyes filled with tears too,
How many people,  my heart was still calm.

Then I looked to the colored glass up so high,
Words left my heart remembering The child,
And through my prayers, was You who called me nigh,
The tale we shared, one so tender and mild.

The world's gift, a child born to a man and his wife,
On this night, this the CELEBRATION of Your life.

Petrina Lesko
December 2010

Obviously, it turned into a very special night, one that I shall carry with me always.  Thanks Covell (he was the pastor with the request of this young child).  I believe I had just turned twelve earlier that month... and I believe there were over 150 in attendance.