Simply danLrene

Work Your Dream

Behind The Scenes

Dedicated to all those who suffer daily from various kinds of pain but hide it even from their closest family or friends.  So many fear letting others know they are suffering because the reactions vary so. Some will believe them, some will act like they are faking, some will give casual response to if but few care enough to really look into a person’s eyes and see. I think this is because they do not want someone else’s pain to enter their world.  I pray for all of them. Life is hard but it need not be harder because there is no one that cares enough to sit down and say I know you are hurting. Let me help.


Behind The Scenes

Liquid pools of pain flowing

behind different colored eyes

With muted sounds so that

no one hears the painful cries

Smiles and calm assurances

that everything is alright

Faint flickers of eyes hiding what

hearts are working hard  to fight

Traces of smiles that can hide

a thousand different tears

Smiles that can build walls

to hide all the hidden fears

No one sees the pain

behind all the many smiles

Nor even tries to see

All the difficult trials

Perception I have heard

is the rule of the day

For then pain and sorrow

do not get in anyone’s way

Oh yes, perception is right

we see what we want to see

Like snow on the ground

all the ugliness looks full of glee

And so liquid pools of pain

continue to flow behind eyes

So that  people can ignore

all the hurts and pitiful cries.

danlrene 2011


June 27, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Growing Old

So many people fear growing old. It is like a death sentence to them and many spend their time trying to deny the reality that age creeps up on all of us before we know it. I think the older we get, we find a calmness and peace and enjoy simple things in life more. But, if we remain bitter that we are getting older and try to use all the tricks to look younger than we are, we only fool ourselves Everyone else knows how old we are.

Things I used to think were the end of the world now just seem common place. I wear what is comfortable and feels good on me. I don’t do the fancy hairdo anymore or the whole makeup routine. I am just me enjoying things like the birds in our wild cherry tree this morning. So many kinds that I wanted to take pictures but they would fly off if I opened the door.

Life has taught me that the first person I better learn how to get along with and live with was myself. Once I achieved that, then I could get along with others. How we deal with life and the things that it throws on us is our choice. I have learned to laugh a lot even at my own mistakes. I have learned compassion for those who seem so angry and frustrated because they can not do anymore. But most of all, I have learned that my relationship with God/Jesus is the most important thing and I have learned to not fear and to trust completely.

Below is a poem I wrote during my time visiting nursing homes. They break my heart those places. So many are alone and lonely. But they are full of wisdom and love. I wish I had started talking to my grandparents, great aunts and uncles, etc a lot sooner for the stories they told me about my family just filled my heart. I think being told I was just like my Granny Bellamy was icing on the cake. She probably weighed 80 pounds sopping wet so it was not the looks that was like her for I am tall. It was her spunk who even at the tender age of five was brave enough to sing Dixie to the Northern soldiers as they marched through the towns. Can you just imagine. 🙂

What The Old Ones Know

Patinas, silvers and faded browns
Dimming lights and diminishing sounds

Creaking hinges and crooked doors
Gnarly feet on wooden floors

Robbers enter to steal our health
A possession far greater than any wealth

Strength wanes likes the ocean tides
Making life turn into bumpy rides

Minds can defeat us on crimson rose
Stopping the rise on warrior toes

Defeat looks like hedge roses so bright
Lovely to smell and looks so right

A warrior knows what lurks deep inside
All the thorns the lovely roses can hide

The thorns of weakness, self-pity and blame
Being a warrior is not playing a game

Being a warrior means choosing to fight
And choosing to see the happiness light

The elders know the pain and sorrow of life
They know it can slice like the blade of a knife

Must you become patina, silver and faded browns
Before you know where happiness can be found?

danLrene 2013

Just a side note, sorry for the absence. It was health issues and doctor visits. But I am back. 🙂

June 24, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | 4 Comments


In today’s time, there is so much hate flowing around that it can be felt. I believe hate is a poison. It is like drinking poison expecting the other person to die.  With hate comes all sorts of problems. People lose the ability to be rational. They lose compassion and sometimes even love. Many become violent. And even worse, they become indifferent.

I wrote this poem in 1989 at the time, I felt like the world was becoming hateful and indifferent. Today it is a 100 times worse and sadly affecting our whole country. I try to avoid those filled with anger and even have my settings on my social media to not allow the hate filled posts. I think when we are around it too much, it rubs off on us and we can find ourselves becoming more like them instead of being the person our heart leads us to be.

One of the things that helps me so much in this world filled with hate is forgiveness. I hear people say “I will never forgive so and so for what they said or did!”  I do not forgive because what the person has said or done was ok. I forgive so that my heart is at peace and I can go on with my life and feel love, compassion and hope filled. Forgiving is very cathartic. When you find certain people in your life have become hate filled, try forgiveness and see if it helps. I forgive and give the person to God because I am a person of faith. I figure God can deal with them better than me.

I never want to be indifferent to the pain of others or to make fun of those who are struggling. I believe the only time we look down on someone is when we are reaching a hand out to help them back up.


The old man reached into the depths of his soul

Only to discover that it was black as coal

Hate and anger had taken up residence there

Turning a heart black that was once so fair

The old man cried out in hurt and pain

As he looked around for someone to blame

When no one appeared, he threw his shoulders back

Deciding it no longer mattered that his soul was black

Published 1989 © danLrene

Also published in
Sparrowgrass “Treasured Poems of America”


June 18, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Place Within

This poem I write after visiting the nursing home and seeing so many that just seemed to live within themselves, all alone, no one to care. I would take my boys to the local nursing home to visit, asking for the ones that had no visitors. My boys would go all over the room hugging them and talking to them and seeing the people’s faces light up with joy. Many thought their grandchildren had come to visit. I think this is why my boys who are grown men now are so compassionate and loving.

I took my kindergarten class to sing for them one year. It was lovely but what touched my heart was this one woman as I walked by her grabbed my arm and started calling me by another name from long ago. She thought I was her daughter and asked me why I did not wear the dress she sent me. I told her it was because it was at the cleaners. She seemed content with that. She held my hand and stroked my arm and talked to me the whole time and was so thrilled that I was there. I learned later that her daughter brought her, dropped her off and never returned to visit her again. I wanted to cry. She would tell everyone that walked by that I was her daughter and I would just smile. I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek when we left and told her I loved her. She died shortly after that and it always touched my heart and this is when I wrote this poem.

A Place Within

With soles worn and body weak

traipsing along well-worn trails

Gnarled knees and a twisted back

And  a mind full of human tales

A path framed with rolling grass

Empty of human voice

Desolate to the ordinary man

But tis his only choice

Eyes that see only inner sights

Ears that hear the past

Lips devoid of any sound

And a body that can not last

The creaking rocker slows to a halt

Closed eyelids flicker in pain

A hand fluttering to his chest

As he returns to the rolling plain

© danLrene 1996

One of the things that taught me to always treat others how I wanted to be treated. That has never left me.


June 17, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Gilded Cage

The Gilded Cage is not just a poem, it is a story of life and struggles and how we can be our own enemy for happiness. I tell people that happiness is a choice. You can be happy with nothing but a small roof over your head or you can be miserable in a mansion. We have to choose and happiness is not an emotion, it is a state of being. Always choose happiness and see the joy in what you have whether it is little or big.

Have you ever seen the aftermath of a damaging storm and seen the families come to their destroyed homes to find what they can to save? I have and what I noticed is there were a family or two that seemed happy in spite of the loss of home for they knew that the most important was saved…each other. And then there were families crying and in despair because their homes were destroyed. It is all a choice and all about what we value most.


Little bird with broken wing
Captive in a world of haze
Frantically searching to escape
Lost in the corridors of a maze

Held by bonds invisible to the eye
The little bird flutters in vain
Though only hurt by a broken wing
The heart was becoming maimed

Caged in glass the world is elusive
Like strangers in the night
The little bird cries from fruitless attempts
And her spirit has lost its fight

Her home is adorned for all to see
Her cage is completely gilded in gold
“I give you everything you need
You should be happy” she is told

But all the glitter and all the shine
Can never fill the little bird’s need
Or stop this little bird’s pitiful cry
As she says “I only want to be freed”

Her cries are silent, her tears are dry
Her wings bruised from beating in vain
No one understands her cries at all
Or knows her deep and yearning pain

Sitting motionless on her little perch
Staring aimlessly through the glass
She is offered precious goodies
But the pleasure does not seem to last

Spring turns slowly into summer
And summer marches on to fall
But time does not lessen the pain
And her unhappiness she tells to all

They grow weary of hearing her cries
When her cage is adorned in gold
Never understanding her needs
Her cries are beginning to sound old

Deserted and alone she begins to molt
Her plumage is turning to crimson
Her songs sound loud and wild
A battle she thinks she has won

Where has the broken bird gone?
What kind of game is this?
With a strut and haughty laugh
She just blows them each a kiss

Everyone is overjoyed it seems
As they begin once again to come back
Never realizing it is a ruse
She is tricking them with this act.

Thinking the worst is finally over
She has become accustomed to her cage
The truth lies in the diary she writes
As the tears cover page after page

The cage is opened occasionally
But the presence is always nearby
So escape is still a distant dream
And she is too sheltered to even try

Company is what she needs, they say
She needs a tiny little child
But peace this does not bring
For she still hears the call of the wild

One day she decides to try to fly away
With the child securely under her arm
But the presence draws her back
With all his sweetness and charm

A taste of freedom lingers in her heart
Escape is planned once again
But, alas new company is coming
She wonders will she ever, ever win?

Once again the haze returns
Despair fills her heart and mind
No matter what the presence offers
No matter how big or sweet or kind

Pain fills all of the minutes in her day
Tears seem to take over every night
The little bird has once again
Lost any of her will to fight

She wanders listlessly around by day
Tiny chirps never entering her haze
Her nights filled with tormented dreams
Of freedom from her beautiful gilded cage

To soar and fly through the air
Over mountains and valleys so low
This little bird is constantly haunted
By the desire to just get up and go

The little bird is haunted every day
The dreams have taken over her bed
Discontent permeates the air like fog
For the sad life that she has led

She calls on the older bird she knows
As she cries out to her all her woe
The older bird listens and tells her
”Baby, be brave and get up and go

See, the cage is no longer locked
The door is swinging to and fro
There is no reason little one
That you cannot pack up and go.”

From being caged so long, she is afraid
That she will no longer know how to fly
So, even when the door is open wide
The little bird is terrified and afraid to try

Hesitating, she cries out in despair for help
Her pitiful words show she does not know
She is uncertain whether to remain inside
Or just to pack and take off and go

She staggers back into the cage in fear
Indecision is clouding her heart
Even when she is given the chance
She does not know how to start

Everything looks brighter outside
The yearning is growing strong
Her melody floats through the air
She knows that is where she belongs

Day by day her courage mounts
As she gets ready to make a break
Dashing through the door, babes in hand
That is all she decides she needs to take

The older bird receives a call
I am on my way the message said
I finally got out of the cage today
Will you please fix the babies beds

Through the rain a distant sound
The frantic beating of their wings
Soon mother and babies are in sight
I’m free, Oh I’m free she sings

Though escaped from the gilded cage
The little bird is trembling in fear
I know he will come after me she cries
For I can feel his presence near

The presence never shows his face
He just makes a very simple call
Is she there with you he wants to know
And says he want her happy that is all

He is willing to let her try the taste
Of all the freedoms of the land
He does not even try to get her back
He never even raises his hand

The little bird settles into the house
Her new life she is ready to start
The excitement growing by bounds
With every beat of her tiny heart

She is fluttering here and there
Tasting and touching everything in sight
Thrilled with this new life she had
She was loving the evening lights

Never being out living on her own
The little bird just did not know
That the big, wide world out there
Was not one continuous show

The babies were left with the old bird
As she played and ran here and there
Living her life doing only as she pleased
As if she did not have a worry or a care

The old bird tried to teach her
Life is different out here she would say
But the little bird would not listen at all
Because she only wanted to be play

If the little bird ever had a need or want
If there was something she could not get
The little bird would beat her wings
In anger she would throw a temper fit.

Although she always wanted to be free
From the presence that was in her life
It was he that she called pleading
At the first signs of trouble or strife

And patient and loving that he was
He filled her every desire or need
But, the little bird was too caught up
To see or appreciate his loving deed

The little bird just wanted to taste life
And wanted to sample all the birds there in
She strutted her fine plumage and flirted
As another bird she worked hard to win

But, once she had this bird in her snare
And he was knocking often at her door
The little bird was not happy or content
Because she wanted so much more

The new bird gave her lots of great gifts
But the little bird was just not content
She badgered the new bird for presents
And was not happy with any he sent

Freedom was not bringing her joy
Her heart was filled with constant pain
She sat around for days and days
Crying tearful songs out in the rain

One night the little bird lost control
As she frantically banged into walls
She grabbed the babies and left the house
Stopping only to make a call

She left in flight, no one knew where
Everyone searched and called all around
Never knowing she flew straight through
Right back to her old home town

She had called the presence to her aid
She would come home; she had said
Please, I do not want to talk right now
Just fix us all some food and a bed

Again the little bird sits in her gilded cage
The door is open wide for everyone to see
Her wing is still broken inside her heart
Because she does not know how to be free

And company is coming once again
To the old gilded cage you see
And while she loves them all
She still yearns to just be free

She cannot see that her wing has healed
And the gate is swinging open wide
She has built her own gate called fear
And shuts it to stay inside

June 15, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Broken Wings And Shattered Glass

 Broken Wings and Shattered Glass

Broken wings and shattered glass
Broken dreams of a southern lass
yes means no and no means yes
Yellow apron over crinoline dress

Faces painted with smiles and hidden tears
Learned to perfection in long southern years
Sideways glances, reflections of truth
Coffee with friends at the drug store booth

Boys will be boys all the girls are told
Half lies giving witness to acts so bold
Rituals happen and patterns are set so deep
Southern women in rapture with lonely sleep

Right is wrong and wrong seems right
Gentle lasses appearing to lose their fight
Beautiful lasses so fragile they feel
Hold inside their hearts magnolia steel

Broken wings and shattered glass
Broken dreams of a southern lass
The night flew in on eagle’s wings
And a southern home is what it brings

Expectations and dreams of cherished love
Flies out the window on the wings of a dove
A southern woman is brought up to know her place
But she knows how to win with a smile on her face

Broken wings just mean you fly low to the ground
And broken glass becomes stained glass all around
The code of yes and no she has learned so well
And lace and crinoline help her weave her spell

Never under-estimate the soft southern drawl
she has learned it from the moment she could crawl
Always dressed so pretty and smells so sweet
Just remember a southern woman will not be beat.

©danLrene  2013

June 13, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | Leave a comment


When I write, I write about what I know, what I have seen, people I have met along the way, life in general, and so much more. Blue is one of those about people I have met along the way.


Little girl dressed in blue
wandering down the hall
people sitting in every room
but no one she could call

Bare feet and tangled hair
eyes with a vacant stare
looking straight ahead she walked
seems there was no one to care

Rag doll held by one tiny foot
making trails on the dusty floor
little girl stumbled down the hall
looking for that one lone door

twas no Alice in the looking glass
No Cinderella going to the ball
was only a wooden door she had
and no one else to call

Little black bird with circle of blue
sitting on the snowy cold wall
peering through the glass it looked
listening for someone to call.

Fly, fly away little bird
escape this dark, cold place
you can do it little bird with blue
Fly to a brand new place

Little old lady with silver blue hair
walks with a shuffling gait
Little rag doll sits on a shelf
memories of another date

danLrene 1985

June 11, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | Leave a comment

On The Wings Of An Eagle

This poem came to me during one of my sickest times where I was in the bed and sleeping a lot. It seemed like over and over I had this dream of flying on the wings of an eagle and it lifted me even though I could barely raise my head. And for some reason it helped me through those really tough days and so it is a very special poem to me. So, as you read it, try to get in the moment and feel it. Pretend it is you on wobbly legs walking to the edge to fly with the eagles.

On The Wings Of An Eagle

Standing ready, she closes her eyes listening for the sound

She raises arms to the heavens as she edges forward til her toes curl round

The moon beats down upon her face and the glow warms her from within

She lets her eyes follow the mountains as they curve around the bend

She is barefoot in splendid wonder, her cotton gown clinging to her knees

The whiteness of the cotton gown slowly rippling like fog amongst the trees

Her hair flows like dark rivers over her shoulders in layers of earthy brown

There is no fear within her as she again raises her face listening for the sound

The moon,a glowing beacon, risen from the tree line like a goddess in the sky

She heard her softly say “come darling, follow me, it is once again time to fly

She found herself walking on legs long withered and broken as she rose to obey

she felt no pain , the moons glow wound round her legs in soothing play

She grew excited with anticipation for she had heard the call many times before

Silently moving through the house until she finally reached the exit door

Her breathing was shallow, a smile upon her lips as she quietly eased outside

She stood looking to the moon nodding she was coming,the door left open wide

Now, she stood with toes curled upon the ledge and her arms raised ready to fly

Not one drop of fear around, she waited only for that sound of the familiar cry

She hears them in the distance, the echo of eagle’s cries float into her ears

She raises up on tiptoes, with arms open wide and steps off the cliff with no fear

Falling downward she smiles knowing the softness of the landing will be sweet

When her body sinks into the familiar softness, she feels the heart begin to beat

She nuzzles her face in closer and lays there in silent wonder cheek to cheek

The power of the beating wings fills her heart leaving her breathless and weak

Looking down she sees the meadow illuminated with the glow of the moon

The animals are scurrying around as if making a magical nature tune

She watches with delight perched high up in the sky as the world flies by

And in breathless wonder, her heart skips a beat as a tear falls from her eye

She closes her eyes for a moment, sighs in deep content,a smile upon her lips

Feeling the power of this body as they make turns and dips and flips

she realizes the gift she is given as she stands on the edge waiting for the sound

As she stands looking with arms raised to the sky, just waiting to be found

He gently sets her back upon the earth as his wing touches her face tenderly

And she sees the gentleness in his eyes that is only there for her heart to see

She feels him say looking at her that he will return again, to wait for the moon

The moon will let her know the time and she will return to the cliff very soon

Few can see with the eye of the eagle or soar across mountains touched by snow

She used to ask him why she was picked, he told her it was not for her to know

All she needed to know was to come when the moon told her it it was time to fly

She hears the echo of hooves, feel the warriors near as he lifts her to the sky

And as she lay on the softness of feathers and caressed his beautiful head in love

Some could only feel his beauty through the thickness of a leather glove

She knew it was a gift of spirit to ride in splendid wonder in the sky so high

And feel the presence of heaven so close that the beauty made her heart cry


May 29, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Because He Lives

People often ask me how I have managed to survive all the pain, exhaustion and life in general. And I admit sometimes it is tough like the past six months but the reason is my faith in Jesus. I love this song….because He lives I can face tomorrow and that is how I hold on. I figure when my time is here, God will just take me but back in January when they told me I was going to die, evidently God was not ready for me to leave because I am still here and I praise God for that.

video by Cecilia Gospel

The world is in such turmoil that my faith is what gives me strength to go on. My faith is what gives me peace and joy and happiness and I am not ashamed to say that. Both of my sons also have that faith. So, when I see turmoil, I decided that the best gift I can give them is to pray for them instead of criticizing them. The best gift I can give anyone is to pray for them and to love them and show compassion to them. I so wish we would bring back love and care instead of the hatred and meanness going on.

Another thing I do for relaxation and stress is grounding. For us, grounding is going outside, sitting with our bare feet on the ground and feeling the grass and the dirt. We keep all electronics inside and sit there listening to the breeze blowing and the gentle sound of our chimes in the tree and watching the birds. Like a car batter that is sat on the ground, the energy drains out of it and for us, it drains all the stress and  tension out. And as I look over to our mountains, I realize how close we are to God high up here on this mountain. We sit there from thirty minutes to an our just allowing all the stress in the world to drain away from us.


Photo by danLrene

May 28, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bend Like The Willow

The storms rage in destruction and despair
The winds of life batter without a care
Things break in two and shatter in places
And you see the pain in so many faces
And yet some still stand beaten but strong
♫’Bend like the willow’♫ is their song
The willow bends from the blasting wind
Smiling inside, saying “I only will bend”
In all her glory, the willow is still there
Proving that the strong willow does not care
Life will always send bad storms our way
Life will bring us storms, day after day
When the storms hit and you feel the pain
Raise your arms and face to the falling rain
Do not run and hide and cover your head
Do not hide, bend like the willow instead
When the willow is bent, the storm goes by
“You did not break me” is the willow’s cry
I am still here standing tall and strong
Think you can beat me, you are very wrong
When things are bad and you want to cry
Bend like the willow…just give it a try.
©danLrene 2006


May 26, 2018 Posted by | Inspiration | , , , , , | 1 Comment

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