My Little White Dog Makes Me Think


My Little White Dog Makes Me Think

by JE Lillie

I remembered

My little white dog bursting out of his night-crate.

He leant his nine-pound panting frame, more fur than skin and bones,

Against my bent legs as I fixed

Him in his blue harness, white sweater and red leash.

He loved me just because he was dog and I was man.

It makes me think how

My little white church bursts with songs on a Sunday morning.

Ladies in their summer white cotton dresses, “Hallelujah!” and “Amen!”.

Meanwhile the steeple leans its fragile cross

against an opaque sky as the culture clamps down with a burning American flag.

They hate me because I am Christian and they are not.

I will realize

My wedding garment glistening with a holy halo.

I shall burst forth behind a white horse leaning upon a broken Zion.

I will be bound with unbreakable chords:

Faith, Hope and Love!  I will look into the fiery eyes of the One who loved me first.

I will love Him because I am man and He is God.

Generation Gap


Generation Gap

I forget, sometimes, the ocean between us when we stand close together, the language barrier when we talk for hours thinking we understand each other.

That you expect the world to serve up justice and equity, while I’m content with my morning eggs and toast and a clucking of the tongue at the morning paper, seems a minor difference, until you start to raging at the machine expecting answers. You see, I get it that machines can’t talk and never could. I stopped expecting to understand why a long time ago.You still want to know everything and think you can.

That just makes you mad and me a little sad, but still we regard each other from our separate orbits, thinking that somehow we are the same.

Blood is thicker than water except when the cumidin is introduced. Then it’s just the same, except different, and it doesn’t hold things together anymore. And so we are.

I am the cliffs and oceans banging together all, craggy and barely pieced together now. You are the southern  wind and summer solstice, always bright and light.

Real and hopeful, two sides of the same coin, never seeing eye to eye.

Which is the more enduring? The cliffs will turn to dust and the oceans run dry while light and breath remain. I will go on into the generation gap and hope you don’t follow. 



Three Line Tales: Down Is Down

Sonya at ONLY 100 WORDS has challenged us to write a three line tale from this photo prompt.

My story is below. To find other stories you can follow the underlined link.


by JE Lillie

Some say, “It doesn’t matter where you’re going as long as you have the right attitude.”

Other say, “As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else where you end up doesn’t matter.”

I say, “Down is down and no amount of pretending will ever make it up.”

Cuppa’ :S.K.W.P. 85

I haven’t played this challenge for a little while but I felt like practicing a little poetry this week and so here is THE SECRET KEEPER’S WEEKLY WRITING CHALLENGE #85

The challenge words this week are

(5) Words: | SCORE | SLEEP | FREE | CALM | ESCAPE |

and I will be writing in the Shadorma form.


by JE Lillie

Away sleep!

I will escape you!

Free my eyes!

Life awaits.

Free me my bittersweet muse!

Ahh! Scored a cuppa’!


Now please take yourself over to the Secret Keeper’s lair to see how others met the challenge. Click the underlined link above.

Friday Fictioneers: Behind These Gates

It is time once again for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS ,  the challenge where 100 authors gather to share 100 word stories all from 1 photo prompt. To see all the stories click the underlined link and follow the blue frog. Here is our prompt and my 100 word story.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Photo Prompt by J Hardy Carrol

Behind These Gates

by JE Lillie

I stand on the porch just beyond their reach.

They can sense me. I can sense them.

Another step closer and they could mindswipe me.

Father has trembled the gates. They know one touch would shake them to pieces.

Daddy’s power is highly coveted. So is mine.

Since the Mutant Wars everyone can read minds. Many can mindswipe. A few like Dad have the power to tremble,turning inanimate objects into sonic killing weapons. One in a hundred million can necrotame.

I go back inside. Behind these gates I am safe from becoming their greatest weapon.

Friday Fictioneers: Giant’s Watch

I haven’t been able to come out and play with authors of Friday Fictioneers for the last few months. Today though I find myself with a wee bit of spare time so I thought I would share 100 words or so on Rochelle’s weekly photo prompt post.


Here is the photo and my story follows.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

photo by Jennifer Pendergast

Giant’s Watch

by Je Lillie

I am six.

Daddy says I am the man of the house now.

“He is off to war.” Mommy says.

Grammy says, Mommy shouldn’t say things like that.

“Little ears don’t need to hear too much truth.” Grammy says.

I watch as Daddy’s car drives away. They always send a big black car for him.

I stand in the place behind what Mommy calls the Giant’s Watch.

No one can see me there and that is good. Daddy says men don’t cry but I think sometimes they do.

I cry because Grammy is right. Truth is bigger than giants.

What Are You Reading? Take Charge Of Your Destiny by Dr. Alan Keiran

I just finished the book ,  Take Charge Of Your Destiny  by my friend Dr. Alan Keiran who spent some time as a chaplain on Capitol Hill.

Here is the review I wrote about it on GoodReads:

We each have a destiny. That destiny intersects with a greater Kingdom of Heaven plan. We each have to choose that plan because our lives are built on choice. In this book Alan Keiran lays out the choices which determine whether or not we will fulfill our God given destinies.
Alan’s pros are clear, easy to read and understand. His stories from his time in the army and the Senate are engaging. This is a beneficial read.
  JE Lillie

Follow me on GoodReads Here

Here are a couple of my take away quotes from the book.

” You need to accept this truth: If you live life your way-within the limitations of your intellect, physical prowess, persuasive personality, and life experiences- you will miss your destiny without even realizing you’ve been duped ” p. 47

“It’s to those who commit to doing things His way that He (God) entrusts His most important missions ” p.49

You can get a copy of Alan’s book by clicking the image below



Friday Fictioneers: 1-13-17

I have been able to write for Fictioneers three weeks in a row. To many of you that might seem like a small thing but to me it means I am making major progress in my goals towards changing around how I schedule my life. I like it!

Well anyway it is time once again to join about 100 authors to create a 100 word story from 1 photo prompt. To see all 100-ish stories go to ROCHELLE’S PAGE HERE.

Here is our Photo Prompt and my story





By JE Lillie

Standing here above these tracks, I see it all so clearly now.

The day I joined up Mom called me by my pet name.

“Chin up Spot.” She said.

“The time has come and the wide world calls. Little boys grow up and leave their Mamas. That’s that. Besides it’s not forever and home will always be here.”

That was four years ago.

She must have known she had cancer when I left. She always had a reason I couldn’t come home.

Now I am a man with lots of roads to choose from and none of them leads home.

Mama lied.



Friday Fictioneers 1-6-17

It is time once again to add a story to the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS 100 WORD STORY CHALLENGE.

To join in the fun or to read the other authors who wrote stories just click the underlined link.

Here is our photographic prompt and my story follows:

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook


by JE Lillie

Jason loved the windmills.

“Imagine the ingenuity!” He would exclaim to me.

“Hundreds of years ago, the Dutch drove back the seas and used the wind to do it! And they wasted nothing! The same pumps that would push back the water made their paint and their chocolate!” He marveled.

Every week he would go and watch the last of those old engines operate. He particularly loved the one that made the paint.

They were making yellow the day he fell in and was crushed by the gears. To this day My kitchen is painted butternut in his memory.