20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

White Showers

School children wait, anxious for that first flake to fall-

“The weatherman said…” cried a child under her breath.

Workers  share the same anxiousness, hoping the snow waits-

until they are home by the fireside with their lover.

Snow plow operators can’t wait, they have to be ready,

start their engines when that first flake falls.


And it is so beautiful as it coats everything in white,

Children rejoice as they play in the frozen fluff.

Parents who can, relax and watch the joy on their faces.

Then drivers notice that the snow is turning to slush.

Such beauty becomes an ugly grey mess, and yet, next time,

We, for some reason, go through the same routine.


A Bit of Grandma’s Wiisdom

Once, as autumn was blowing away

on  crunchy brown leaves,

and frost had appeared, taking the last asters,

I sat on my porch, shivering,

thinking how long it was until spring.

I longed for daffodils,

and warm breezes.

I looked deep inside and realized

that I longed for my past.

When my kids were little,

before I lost my son and health.

When my marriage made me smile.

When I was young.

Then two of my grandsons ran up the street.

They hugged me so tight,

“I love you, Beebee” they smiled.

And I smiled too.

I remembered my grandma used to say,

“We should never wish time away.”

She lived to be 96 years old.

She was so brave and so wise.

I smiled and hugged my grandsons,

and tried to appreciate the biting winds

yet to come before daffodils.

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Nature as a Child

After the darkness,

Blue skies surround me

Clouds drift on the horizon

Drifting away at last

Every day is different

Fresh and exciting.

Gladly, I look for

Hovering bees and bugs

Ice melted at last.

Just one warm day

Keeps me hoping

Long after cold returns

Moonlight sparkles

Night times stars

Overhead-your head and mine.

Perhaps I treasure nature

Questioning it’s rhythms

Reining in its surprises

Turning from chill to warmth

Until I come upon the first

Violet, a sure sign of spring.

Wonder if other over it as much

X-citined as I am

You may know-tell me

Zestfully smiling.



Autumn’s fingers poke into
blue skies, coloring trees
crimson, orange, yellow and gold,
dusting them with wealth,
expectation of change this time of year.
Frost soon,
gregarious announcer of winter
hunches with gray shoulders as
if it were a cat stretching. An odd
justice creeps over the land,
killing summer, erasing fall, and
lighting the landscape with white
October treasure remains.
Pilfered, we trudge on toward December
quietly, steadily, with
teeth cutting into growth
under the snows.
Violence erupts, blizzard
winds whip with
extraordrinary power,
yammering temperatures to

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Under a Rotting Log

Under a Rotting Log



It was a simply beautiful spring day.” She thought. She couldn’t help but take in the tiny buds on flowers, mosses, now growing on damp stones, even the azure sky over head seemed especially lovely.


She reached down and gently lifted a rotting log, encased in a curly gray lichen. Just as she picked it up, a shiny creature writhed towards the from underneath the log




It’s just a blue-tailed skink, laughed her brother, a lizard!


She felt a little foolish, still, after all the excitement, she was sure the memory of this spring adventure would remain with her always.




Talk to me, December.
Tell me where you hid the green.
What secrets do you hold inside your mittens,
under your hat?
You practice your seasonal math,
knowing the requirement for fourths.
Stick branches poke into the skies,
licorice or clarinet against the grayish-blue.
You hum your melodies composed of wind,
surprise us with the first fresh fall of snow.
December, culmination of the warming,
warmed, then cooled, now cold.


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A Silly December Poem

It’s 60 today and the sun’s shining bright.
I guess that the seasons just can’t get it right.
A couple of flakes fell on Thanksgiving Day,
but autumn is lingering. Skies are not gray.

I wonder why Earth has its story mixed up.
The weather’s been weird, like cake in a cup.
So what of December? Where’s snow and the cold?
It might come like a lamb, not blatant or bold.



Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger


You always return on an April breeze

With fragrance of jasmine and crimson oak trees

The seasons, they just move go on

And my mind knows that you’re gone

With autumn’s cold you never grow old

With winter’s chill I miss you still

As the season changes my heart rearranges


When you left I always knew

Forever I’d long for you

so I’ve held on to your memory

And my sadness will always be

Every season you come back to me


You always return with a starry night sky

A soft, golden sunrise; a bright butterfly

I’m reminded you are free for all eternity

When fall would come, for years I was numb


My tears fell like rain, but spring thawed my pain

As the seasons go by, the memories don’t die


When you left, from life I withdrew

And a piece of my soul died, too

Life and death are a mystery

And my sadness will always be

Every season you come back to me


Click this link to a story and to play my song:

Every Season You Come Back To Me

© 2012 by Judy Unger, http://www.myjourneysinsight.com and 20 Lines A Day. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Circles of cycles
move me farther from birth,
closer to death.
I do not acknowledge the latter.
Seasons teach me:
Infant blossoms in spring,
full bloom of youth, the summer,
a winding-down in fall, raking up excesses, lowered skies,
then frozen winter.
I know my season,
just as the clock ticks inexorably.


Summer (from ramblingsfromamum)

My body lies upon the sand and the warmth radiates and envelopes my every pore

I inwardly smile at how I feel, my senses are tingling and alive as I listen to the sounds of the waves tumbling

I have waited all year to feel this way

To be by the ocean to hear its sounds, to smell it


My hands dig into the soft and gritty like crystals and slowly I let each grain pass through my fingers

My eyes closed my breath draws in to absorb the perfume of the water, the smell of the warmest season

My eyes blink open and I stare to the sky above to watch the clouds dance in the wind that carries them

I watch as birds fly overhead and cry out making themselves known


So perfect the day the quietness, the stillness around me with only the waves and the sounds of feathered creatures

My mind escapes into the paradise, my thoughts tumble, like the waves they ebb and flow

How perfect, how serene at happiness complete

The seasons that make a difference to my feelings my emotions


I have waited for the warmth to feel the sand, to hear the ocean, to gaze into the water

I have passed through the cold and wintry months, the time of Spring and Autumn, with summer I am alive

This is my place, this is where I belong

I am content at peace


Why does this have such a hold on me?

Why am I happiest here?

I cannot say, is it because I am a water sign?



Some places make us feel alive more than others

Being near the water is mine

I have tranquility listening to the waves or stepping amongst the rock pools to watch the life below

I simply belong


Do you have a place where you belong?

Where your senses come alive

Where the sounds of all around you without an orchestra

Fulfills you and takes you to a place you may only have in your dreams…


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Dreaming dreams hoping for a light,
waiting patiently for something in the night,
wanting so desperately to mean something,
to mean more than something to some one;

Dreaming of times long gone,
when winter melted into spring,
and burst into summer and fall,
when a season remained just that, a season;

But then time flew,
and we grew,
and that ends the story of me and you.



It’s September now

Four months left in the year

The weather will be cooler

Soon the holidays will be upon us

Family gatherings

Laughter and hugs

Where did the year go

It started off so lovely

Rapidly turned so cold

Life turned cold and harsh

But that was then

As it begins to cool outside

It’s warmer now within

Life is beginning to burst forth

As if it’s spring, not fall

Seasons come and go

No matter the weather



I’m editing this to dedicate it especially to Caroline Rhein.  Caroline is the former sister in law of my brother Steve’s wife Jean.  She was just critically injured in a motorcycle accident, in which her companion was killed, and is recovering in the hospital.  It’s my understanding that she still doesn’t know about her companion’s death.  They had been out celebrating her birthday.  I met her 10 years ago, in April of 2002, when I was visiting Steve and Jean in Colorado.  We seemed to really get on well, and I never forgot that time visiting with her and the connection we made, although we did not stay in touch through the years since.  But she’s been through more than many people could endure, including the tragic loss of a son 3 years ago.  You can read about that in my brother’s blog here.  Praying for a speedy recovery for Caroline, and for healing in her heart for the many trials she’s endured and is still enduring.

May there be no violent storm raging deep within your soul

But may there be a summer breeze that blows, and does console

May you know the warmth of being loved, and loving in return

And if your love should leave you, may your light inside still burn

May you never become bitter, with cold and hardened heart

May you always know that every day brings with it a new start

When you can lay aside all the troubles you have known

And recall only the memory of kindness life has shown

This is my prayer for you, upon this August day

When fall is now approaching, with the leaves that fall away

May they carry with them all the things that take away your smile

So to lighten up your journey as you walk another mile


The journey is amazing, with such beauty to behold

But along the way, I know the winds that blow can be quite cold

I pray the flame of God’s great love will always keep you warm

And you will know to look to Him to keep you from all harm

Remember through the winter that the snow will one day melt

I pray that melting with it will be all the hurts you’ve felt

And when the spring returns again, with new life all around

May it bring you peace from deep within, and blessings that abound.


Coming Soon


Fall is on it’s way

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:


The nights are getting cooler, finally.

Fall  is near,  I can smell it in the air.

Soon the trees will be decked out in their glorious colors.

I know it isn’t fair for me to go on and on about how pretty they will be.

Some of you will never get to see this beauty for yourselves, so I will be on

a mission to catch some pretty moments and to share them with you as well


Just old photos from a Fall past, to get you ready for the change of seasons.

For us who actually get to enjoy four, well me three ,I hate winter but unless I

run away you will surely see SNOW photos as well


Stay Tuned!

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