Ryan’s Ladder

What do you See? March 19/2019

“Look up here, Love!

Yes, it’s me…I promised

I’d come back to you.

You’re a vision to behold

I  missed you so.

I know, I know…gone a very

Long time…but Today’s

The beginning of Forever…

We’ll not be separated now.

Aren’t the colors spectacular?

More vibrant than I’d dreamed

And painted, passing afternoons.

Much to tell each other, yes…

I long to wrap you in my arms

Won’t let you slip, I’ll kiss you

Till you’re breathless, recapture

Years withheld from us as we

Waited…lives and times apart…

Swift-spinning world below.

Hey, have you met van Gogh?

I caught a glimpse of him

Walking, just a minute ago…

Do I smell cinnamon rolls?

You must be working in the

Kitchen, as you’d hoped.

My, I can’t get over the sky

A-swirl…remember, we used

To marvel, evenings…it’s oh

Far More.  We can reach out

Here, actually touch the sparkle

Wafting tingly…and the breeze

Is like it was in the islands!

Remarkable! my mind clear again.

But, Love, tell me one small thing…

Is there a ladder on your side…for you?”

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com

Dungeon of Mind





In mind’s dungeon no rest is found

Nothing satisfies dour assemblage…

Every facet of faces is sepia frown

Their words—constant clanging

Haranguing—are physical battery

…Reproof, rebukes.

There’s no such thing as quiet

Not for a moment, hour, day…

No peace exists; dimmest corner

Ripples reverberations…defeat

Shame, pound chronic migraine.

Specters of the dead, shadows of

People still living—somewhere—

Writhe, serpents in agony.

Tears don’t appease, nor repentant

Prayer, pleas for absolution.

Memory’s verbal rats gnaw feet…

Can’t sleep, on guard against

Something larger…toxic, toothier.

People who don’t believe Hell’s

A real place have yet to experience

Mental dungeon where everything

You ever feared, recall—each cruel

Betrayal, humiliation, shunning and

Mockery—whatever is horror, grief

Becomes bitter flame which burns

The flesh, sears tongue, blinds eye

Turns heart and soul to ash…

But leaves mind alert to suffer.

Those who escape discovered secret:

Dungeon keeper’s been around for

Eons, nothing new about him; he

Merely repeats what old voices speak

Copy/pastes stinging untruths…he’s

Lucifer, the Liar.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com

Intriguing Symptom…

FOWC with Fandango — Intriguing

FOWC with Fandango — Symptom

Intriguing symptom, this


Lightness, anticipation…must be


Replacing dense dread of Tomorrow…

I’d thought, perhaps, all my miracles were used up.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

The Pi-Archimedes verse is:
○ a hexastich, a poem in 6 lines.
○ measured by the number of words in each line 3-1-4-1-5-9 to match the numerical sequence of the first six digits of Pi.
○ unrhymed.

Image: Pixabay.com

X Marks the Spot

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/03/22/story-starter-challenge-20/ Today’s sentence: “X marks the spot.”

‘X’ marks the spot…

‘Ex’ marked the spot

Point where life had

To change…

Required new map.

Divorce is harsh, wretched…

Not heart’s first preference

But my choice nonetheless…

Somebody has to say when

Enough’s enough.

Stripped soul to raw branches

Dry, chill-brittle, bare as winter.

Both end, and beginning

Led to next door, Life’s corridor

Handed me key ring

Better fit than wedding

Band; another map to study.

Wasn’t last door, there would be

More… I consult map periodically

Locate next marked “X”…

Survey interior surroundings

Mind, spirit…offer prayers…

Take slow breath, reach

For keys a-jingling

Get ready

To go forward.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com

Theme Reveal, Thank-you & Royal Pi


I wanted to thank everybody who has treated me like royalty, since opening this blog—I’m WOW’d by the support and wonderful comments I’ve received.  WordPress is a great neighborhood to live in.

As with anything else I write here, I say that sincerely—which now leads me to offer an apology in advance:  this weekend I’ll be having dinner guests (see poem which follows), and it’s likely I’ll be a less attentive reader of your posts, and not as “comment-y” in the boxes…due to the necessary preparations.  I rarely have guests, and I’ve been longing to dress up my blessed table…and serve actual (not imaginary) people🙂

Final note:  I had initially signed up for April’s A to Z Challenge with no theme in mind…figured I’d just go “Eclectic”, as usual🙂  But I’ve felt immensely blessed of late, JOY returning…so I think it’s only suiting that I announce “Faith” as my theme.  Some days (& alphabet letters) may be more challenging than others, which means posts could reflect mercurial moods…but all in the context of my genuine, authentic Faith.  Hopefully it will go well and I won’t completely lose my mind…by doing April’s NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo at the same time.

Again, my huge and heartfelt gratitude to EVERYONE who visits here…you have been harbingers of spring and a much improved year And now, the poem:

Royal dinner guests


Who might become good


Invitation to blessed table, mine

For, who knows, I may be entertaining angels unaware.

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”  Hebrews 13:2, NASB (Bible Verse: biblehub.com)

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

The Pi-Archimedes verse is:
○ a hexastich, a poem in 6 lines.
○ measured by the number of words in each line 3-1-4-1-5-9 to match the numerical sequence of the first six digits of Pi.
○ unrhymed.

Table setting Image: Pixabay.com

Scarlet Salvation

FOWC with Fandango — Blot

Is there heinous


Upon frail fallen soul…


Inglorious legacy left to generations…

Which Christ’s shed blood cannot purify?  If repentant, none.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com

Exercise, A Rant-Tangent


I exercise mind


Tone of limbs apparently


Why is “core” in torso

When who I am is centered, triathlon-ready in brain?

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com