Author walljm

Have you ever been to an otherworldy place? When time is a passing veil… like the morning twilight, it comes but breifly, to be blown away by the assertion of the morning sun. A time when few people are about, most seeking the solace of their homes and families, and the quiet blankets time in a soft embrace. I let my mind wander, and I wonder how long certain things will last, and what form they will take as they mature. Nothing stays the same… its the nature of life. If we don’t change we stagnate, so we move on,…

Poetry is an art mostly forgotten in today’s age. In contrast to the value that was placed upon it in yesteryear, it has diminished. A sobering thought to precede a well done poetry site, vers libre, a collection of published poetry by old and new authors alike. Be sure to check out the top 20 section, which lists, among others, The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, The Meteorite by C. S. Lewis, Grace by Ralph Waldo Emerson, and a technically difficult muse called Before an Old Painting of the Crucifixion by Natachee Scott Momaday.

My first sonnet, The Fruit of the Spirit, inspired by Galatians 5:22, and written mostly in iambic pentameter, though I think I probably strayed from the meter a little. A sonnet, for those who are unfamiliar with the form, is a poem written in 14 lines, using iambic pentameter, and follows a specific rhyming scheme. Now, you are probably wondering what iambic pentameter is, so i’ll give you the trimmed down verision. An iamb is a two syllable phrase, where the first syllable is emphasised. For example, the word CHRISTmas is an iamb. Pentameter means sets of five. Thus, iambic…

I haven’t posted in a couple days. Every man has his dry seasons, and though I’ve not ceased certain creative pursuits alltogether, there is a dragging sort of heavyness starting to creep into life. Bilbo described as , "like butter that is scraped over to much bread". Truth is I’m tired, not the kind of tired you can cure with one good nights sleep, but tired from many months of doing and focusing and trying many things. I will of course continue to blog, here and at ablogapart.com. I will be writing poetry, shooting photography, and other things as well,…

Disturbing news…

New poem, A Rose as Sweet as Thee I write poetry when inspiration hits. I put this disclaimer on here becuase some might think that I’m in love. This is not true, I’m just a poet with romantical notions on occasion. In history, poets often wrote of love, and *she* was often written about for the same reasons I suspect. I just thought you might want to know.

I have some friends who are really hurting and in need of prayer. I would be grateful if you would pray for Mr. F, who is dealing with cancer right now. Pray for Mr. B who is struggling with some work issues. Pray for Miss N. who needs God’s help to deal with a difficult problem. Pray for Mr. and Mrs. W who are dealing with some real discouraging conflicts. Thanks,

Color Photography is one of the more complicated areas of a photographers work, specifically because of the wide ranges of light sources you may encounter at any point in time. Generally, light sources are measured by color temperature, with most normal light bulbs producing light at about 2500 degrees Kelvin, which produces a yellow/red cast to a photo. Daylight normally has a color temperature of about 5500K. Most films you buy are balanced to produce accurate color in daylight. Because of this, anytime you have to take pictures with artificial light you have to compensate. You can do this in…

A new collaborative blog called, a blog apart launched late last evening. The idea behind ABA is a group of people writing seriously about a wide range of topics. Check it out.

New poem, The Faith of my Father.

My father worked at McDonalds during most of the years while I was growing up. Before that he worked as an insurance salesman, but when he decided that God was calling him into the ministry full time, he packed up and moved from Oklahoma City to Arlington, TX to attend Southwestern Theological Seminary. He worked at McDonalds for nearly ten years as he earned his Masters in Divinity. I respected my dad as i grew up, watching him get up at 3:00 am to go to work. I didn’t get to see him a whole lot during those years. He…

New poem, Parting is Sweet Sorrow.

I’d like to say more about this poem… but i’m not sure i could truly give justice to what is going on in my head, so here it is… you tell me what you think. In His Hands Are Kept

Truly we live in a technologicaly marvelous world. As I speak I travel. Cruising down I-24 just past Chattanooga, TN. I am missing the glorious smokey mountains, as the sun set a couple hours ago. Suffice it to say I was dissapointed. I wrote another poem, The Presence of the King. Well… i’ve nothing more to say… so toodles…