On Desert Ground and On A Dime (Two Part Storytelling Poetry) 

On Desert Sand

She walks leaning heavily

On the wooden cane.

She’s come a long way

Since she came back from

Broken and Bloodied.

She’d never be put back together again.
She remembered those first few days

Conscious in a blur

Remembered running to the aid

Of a terrified boy

A soldier not ready to die.

She had saved his life

But nearly lost hers

She saw legs with size eight combat boots

A few feet from her and knew

Instantly what had happened.
She didn’t drift out until they

Had stabilized her

She remembered being loaded into the air ambulance

Quietly praying she’d survive

Then she drifted off to a place she was free of pain.
She woke up to strange sounds

And a familiar face

Her baby sister Courtney who was terrified of planes

Had flown to be with her.
It was hard those first weeks

To simply stay awake.

Your body healed when you slept

She knew that

But nothing could give you amputated limbs back.
When she was stabilized once more

She was sent back to the states

To Walter Reed Hospital

Her sister always by her side.
She had a long road ahead of her

She knew that

But Cheyenne was no stranger to hard Work.

Giving up was not an option

She was a Soldier, broken and battered

But she had survived.
During those moments

She felt utterly broken

Remembering that Desert

And it’s danger

But it’s beauty too

Always had a way of lifting her up.

She’d close her eyes

And see a child’s hands reach out

For a Chocolate bar

A luxury so many couldn’t afford.
Some thought of that place

As Hell but Cheyenne saw the beauty there.
“Someday I’m going back,

Not as a soldier

But I can do something to help.”
“I’ll go with you

Courtney said.” Not a doubt

In her mind her sister would do as she said.
It took her months, but she learned

To walk again

On legs of titanium and plastic

Only a hand carved wooden cane as her aid.
To Be Continued In On A Dime

On A Dime

He held out a hand eagerly

Dirty and broken

An old dog his only companion.

It hadn’t been long ago

He had been a mere boy

A soldier at eighteen

He had nearly died

In that far off land.
She nearly walked passed him

Then she looked him in the eye

That Boy Soldier from a lifetime ago

Though it had only been a few years.

The years had been not kind

To him.

And her heart hurt.

Life hadn’t been kind

She reached into her purse

For a couple of twenties then

Realized she needed to do something More.

She handed him the twenties

But had something bigger on her mind.

Life had been good to her

Even with what she had lost

On that Desert Sand.
“I know you.” He said

A glint of recognition in his eyes

“You saved my life.

I thought you had died.”
“As you can see

I am very much alive.

What happened to bring you here?”
“Life can change on a Dime.” He said

“And mine changed for the worse.
She shook her head

“This won’t do

No soldier should sleep in the streets.”
She led him to a hotel room

She rented for two weeks

By then she’d find a more permanent Solution.
“It looks like you did

Well for yourself.”
She reached in her bag and

Handed him a book

Titled “On Desert Sand, and soon he Realized despite everything

She had done well for herself.

“Thank you.” He said

As she walked out the door

On two feet that weren’t her own.
True to her word just two weeks

Later she came back to the hotel room

Where he had been staying.

Helped him gather his few belongings

And led him to her car.
“You drive?” He asked

“Yes hand controls.” She laughed.

Before long they pulled into a driveway

A tiny house

Full of all the necessary amenities.

She handed him the keys

“This is your’s.” She said

And then pointed to an F150 in the

Driveway “That’s yours too.

This isn’t a handout

But a hand up she said.

“And when you get back on your feet

You can Pay it Forward.”
He smiled at her

And said

“Once again you save my life.

Once again everything changes on a Dime.”
(C) Michelle R Kidwell


My Fathers Hands

My Fathers hands

Are strong and sure

They are the tools

That created the Universe.

My Fathers Hands

Are Loving but firm

They embrace those who love


My Fathers Hands

Are Beautiful and Sure

They are the hands

That molded me

Before I was born

Then planted me in my mothers womb.

My Fathers Hand

Are Strong and Sure

Certain and True.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


Awaken to Dawn

Awaken to dawn

And thank God for each morning

For each breath, breathed freely

Some have to fight

Even for breath.

Awaken to dawn

See the colors

Of a Morning sky

And thank God you can


Awaken to Dawn

Another day

At our fingertips

And thank God

For the day.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


Words of Praise

I write these words of praise

Because of the Savior

That dwells within me.

I sing the song of praise

To the Savior

Who shed his blood for me.

I write these words of praise

To Christ Jesus,

The son that dwells

Within me.
Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


Just A Little Talk

Just a little talk

And it makes everything all right.

Just a little talk

To chase away fears and fright

Just a little talk

And everything is okay

The hurts and aches

Are lifted away.

Just a little talk

And make everything alright.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


Evidence of Things Hoped For

You are

The evidence

Of everything I hoped for

The creator

Of all my dreams

You are the sculpture

Of all the beauty

That surrounds me

The Savior of

My Soul

You are the


Of everything I hoped for

And all that I dream…

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


It’s Music Like That, That Just Takes Me Back

Listening to Bob Seger this came to me…

Bob Seger

Playing on the Stereo

Takes me back

To the days

Of my childhood

When we lived in

That Old Red House

And I would dance

To the music on the radio

Trying to belt out

Old Time Rock and Roll

Like a Rock

Moody Blues

And Jim Croche’s

Bad Bad Leroy Brown

We had so much fun

Singing that


As children

And Mom and Dad would just

Laugh at our antics.

It’s music like that,

That just takes me back

To that old Station Wagon

Full of Kids

And the Oldies

Blasting on the radio

I grew up with songs

Like that

The Beach Boys

And the Beattles

Dad lost a bet

And I got his entire record collection

The year I turned fifteen.

It’s music like that

That just takes me back.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


2:33 PM EST

What Color Is Hope

What color is hope,

Is it crimson red,

Like the blood,

Christ shed on Calvary?

Is it baby blue,

Like a clear sky,

On a warm day/

Is it green,

Like the grass,

After a fresh rainstorm,

Or like the Evergreen’s standing tall?

What color is hope,

All the color of the rainbows…

Sun Oct.19.2003

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell

Thank God For My Son

You watched your son,

Go of to war,

in ’68’,

And words like,

Vietnam, Saigon,

And the Viet-Kong,

Became dinner time,



You found yourself jumping,

Everytume you received a call,

On that old rotary phone,

You found yourself jumping.

Every prayer you prayed,

Revolved around that little boy,

Whose diapers,

You not so long ago changed,

And finally the day came,

Your little boy was home from war,

No longer a little boy,

But a man,

With memories of war,

but still you find yourself,


Thank God For,

Bringing my son home.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


All Rights Reserved

I Fell In Love With Country Music

Thank you Karen for the inspiration!

I fell in love

With country music

The summer I was fifteen

Listening to Reba

Singing Fancy

As I tried to beat

The hot summer heat.

My friend and I danced

To the music

Loving the beat,

Knowing that the music

Was different

Yet it was real

I fell in love

With Country Music

The moment I heard


Singing Fancy.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell