Archive for the ‘Daily Post writing challenge’ Category

Keeping an open mind, with an expectant heart

Too easy it seems we look for those things

that we think we will find

in those we’ve met,

things we’ve heard, or things we’ve read,

stories of those heard only and yet,

is it maybe we come with the thought of mind

that one, or a thing is expected to be

just what is said, and not what we find?

Can it be that our heart is too closed to receive

and our eyes not open

and we cannot believe,

that there is a beautiful person inside,

and they need your smile, or a word in kind

a heart given to love, not a nod in passing aside.

If you were alone, or became that one

and one walked in judgement

and refused to see

the person you are behind your cloak

that others see only,

not the treasure inside,

wouldn’t you wish to be loved too

for who you are; not the one they think you are?


Joyce E. Johnson (2016)


A nostalgic yesteryear of bygone days


A BNSF train passes through Loveland, Colorado

A BNSF train passes through Loveland, Colorado


This is my posted submission for the Daily Post Writing Challenge

The loud whistle sounds, first long and lingering, then short staccato bursts that pronounce their arrival, momentarily breaking the monotonous silence. Vehicles lined up behind the blinking red lights and barrier arms. Traffic came to a halt, when the rumbling wheels rolled through.  BNSF (Burlington Northern Santa Fe) and the Rio Grand faithfully kept to scheduled runs through quiet country towns. They were as predictable as old Western television reruns.

I could be lulled to sleep at night with train whistles and their endless line of cars making its slow, sluggish way across wide open prairies, their tracks crisscrossing fields of wheat and corn before climbing their way up over the foothills, through the Rocky Mountains until finally disappearing out of sight, out of hearing range, but not out of mind. When we went to visit my grandparents in a another small town they lived so close to the tracks behind their house we could feel their little house rattle and vibrate during the night when trains came through. And still, I slept.

I loved watching trains, loved hearing the whistles, and loved taking trips on trains as I got older, some harrowing, some nostalgic like yesteryear. Trains are an icon to the past, but thankfully today they still rumble through town, stop traffic and sound their warning system when approaching.

Today, I live in a different town, close to the tracks here as well. And each night around 10:00 p.m. when I hear the train coming I listen for the long shrill whistle to announce itself. And still, I sleep.   🙂


Joyce E. Johnson (2014)



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