http://slow.writerscafe.org/bowlofcherries The original writings of author C.L. Chandler en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776031110 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Somewhere in the pastI was told that peppermint is good for your brainSo peppermint tea has become my thinking tea –When I read, it helps me retainWhen I study, it helps me recallWhen I plan, it helps me focusWhen I create, I fill my cup and gulp it down,Hoping it will magically .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/371462/ “Well I’m really excited about this Bible study,” she says as she tears open cream and sugar packets for me, “but I’m a little nervous too, so I really need your help.” I smile and shake my head as I take the three creams and four sugars and pour them into my hu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/371459/ about a little tea room in Victoria, B.C. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/371458/ for my Dad. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/371457/ Jazz is like a bubble bath for your soul...It floats and soaks and soothes and energizes and revivesThe buzz of it gets you high andYou can't help but surrender to itWith a tap of your foot and a swing of your head and a tingle in your fingersIt's the music inside you...Your he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/329125/ No idea. No thought. No memory.No sound. No words. No melody.No movement. No action. No energy.No beauty. No vision. No imagery.No love, No strife. No color, No white.No death, No life. No shadow, No light.Nothing to tie me down,Nothing to make me leave.Nothing to destroy your hopes,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/329115/ inspired by the love story of my Grandma and Grandpa "C" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/317618/ Jobs change Plans change Lives change Dreams change But God doesn't. Places change People change Seasons change Feelings change But Jesus doesn't. Religions change Attitudes change Assumptions change Perspectives change But Emmanuel doesn't. Priorities change Si.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/317617/  I drop a tea bag in a teacup of hot water. The tag on its string says "Lady Grey," and the box guarantees that this citrus flavored black tea will relax and refresh, in the morning with toast or in the afternoon with lemon biscuits. The little bag sinks into the water and I watch i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/317615/ “Hi Miss Peggy, This is Connie. I was just calling to find out how you feel about hot air balloons… When you get back, just let me know!” I hung up the phone and smiled, because if I know Miss Peggy, she will enthusiastically respond to my message. She is a 75-year-old widow who g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/316321/ This world is two-dimensional Dreary as tombstones and heavy as grey matter Formed by intelligence too thick and dull to dream. These barren fields and clouded skies Vary only in shades of black and white – They call it bone, charcoal, slate and eggshell, But it only serves to dist.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/316309/ "Somehow it's bigger inside," he explained, "The architecture conceals the greatness within." She nodded and gazed in awe at the building, It's landscape obscuring the vastness therein. The sun was setting behind the trees The shadow of the bell tower covered the two... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315466/ They're very brave, I think - Very bold and daring and confident. They don't just poke their heads out for a peek; They flash their bright golden faces to the sky And grin wholeheartedly as they soak in the warmth. They reflect the sun that coaxed them out of hiding. They don't just wave.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315463/ for Lauren and other little girls who dream http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315462/ for my very emotional Kathryn http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315460/ This is my attempt at Dr. Seuss... sorry if it's cheesy. Inspired by our lop-sided, funny-lookin', Cristmas tree in 2115-A... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315459/ Inspired by a movie, a road sign, a conversation, a late-night drive, and my pretty blue Wendy bow.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315458/ For Zoe and Bryan, my two best friends http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315457/ It's a golden day Golden sky Golden trees Golden air Warm breeze circulates Through brown hay Through pumpkin patches Through Halloween decore I enjoy the sun's heat In a t-shirt In eery caution In a suspicious way It makes my nose wrinkle Something's wrong Somethin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315456/ for Laura http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315454/ I wonder... I wonder where physical strength meets spiritual strength. I wonder... I wonder why I become so inadequate at such a critical time. I wonder... I wonder how my heart can feel so strong while every other muscle in my body feels weak. I wonder... I wonder why God would .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315453/ for those I hope to be my good friends... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315451/ Late at night I lay in bed And struggle with my thoughts Doubts, Lies, Truth My heart burns with the things That I hate most about myself Jealousy, Manipulation, Hopelessness I'm tempted to sink into self-pity To figure out my own selfish way To Plot, Argue, Brood But I know .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315449/ for those, like Nate, who dream... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315447/ "He is to lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, and it will be accepted on his behalf to make atonement for him... It is a burnt offering, an offering made by fire, an aroma pleasing to the Lord." - Leviticus 1:4, 9b "But thanks be to God, w http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315443/ When I complain that I have nothing, God counts my blessings for me, to prove that he's given me all I need. And when I forget why I have it all, God shows me a glimpse of life, to remind me I have nothing without Him. When I shake my fists and cry that I am weak, God displays the ea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315441/ To those who struggle to hear the steady heartbeat of God. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315440/  Immy retraced her steps down the garden path, stopping to splash in the brook and rest among the flowers and swing on the willow boughs. Her wings did not weigh her down anymore; in fact, she hardly considered them at all, and then only as a reminder of her fantastic journey and the wonderfu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315131/ Through those two great doors the King sat on his throne. Immy trembled at the thought of it. She knew that many people had stood there before, but at this moment she felt like the first and only to do what she was about to do. The boy spoke softly to her, “Here is where you and I must part wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315129/  “Good morn, Elensila,” the lad said, and the fairy blinked awake. “We may begin the last day of your journey. Here, climb upon my shoulder and I will carry you for a while.”As promised, he woke her at the first light of dawn, and excitement and anticipation tingled .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315127/  The kingdom looked full of activity and excitement, and the colors and noises shocked Immy, who had grown accustomed to the peace and solitude of the great forest. In fact, she happened upon this street during the busiest day of the year – the summer festival. This was the day for craf.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315126/  Days passed, and Immy seemed to be hopelessly lost. She’d turned back in the direction she thought she came from, because her fear and doubt urged her to return to everything in her past that was certain – the flowers, the dances, the eternal Spring... but the Mossy Wood was so t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315125/  The silver bird cage creaked as it swung like a pendulum, ticking away the long and lonely hours that passed. Every now and again, Immy heard a scuttle of feet in the tunnel or the echoing drip of the pool somewhere in the distance. By the light of the blue stones, she could see goblins trom.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315124/             The setting sun lit Immy’s path and seemed to nudge her on, despite the cruel and careless words of Lady Michol. As she rubbed and wiggled her shoulders, she wondered who would possibly meet the lady’s standards, and what.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315123/ A few days later, Judd presented to Immy a pair of shoes. They were the prettiest shade of lavender she had ever seen, made of a special material that was soft, warm, and thick, yet remarkably lightweight. “These are enchanted traveling shoes,” the wizard explained.“Oh!” ad.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315121/ When Immy finally awoke, she looked around the dimly lit room and saw all sorts of curiosities. Clay pots of varying sizes, shapes, and hues were set about the room, looking very simple on the outside, but obviously valuable to Judd. He still wore his old brown habit, like a monk or a hermit, and no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315120/ As her journey began, Immy delighted in befriending the creatures of the meadow: the fawns, rabbits, mice, and such. They approached her hesitantly at first, but they soon grew to love her dearly, for she was gentle and kind. They protected her, and let her ride on their backs so that she reached th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315118/ My day starts with a hot serving of exhaustion Bitter because there's too much business to attend to And not enough encouragement As I smell the steam rising, I see my dreams fading And the first sip burns my tongue with disillusionment Something must be done about this cup of attitude. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315116/ This morning I pour my breakfast tea into a little china tea cup that belonged to my great-grandmother, and take my time sipping it and nibbling on a piece of toast. I love mornings like this, so quiet and still, "with no mistakes in it," as someone once said. But I never like to have tea .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315115/             This time I make the tea. A guest of honor has come to dinner, bearing birthday gifts for me: a china tea cup and saucer, painted with pink roses and Spanish print on cracked parchment like a fabulously romantic love letter. To go in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315113/             Cute bear inspires            I want a salmon smoothie            But John says no way    &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315112/ An unpoem in honor of Lewis Carroll... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315111/ It’s late at night, and my roommate, Zoe, and I decide we will take a study break and have some tea. As college students, we still have not fallen victim to the stereotypical coffee addiction, and we pick up a different flavor of Celestial Seasonings every time we go to the store. Our favorite.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315105/ On a rainy evening in March I hold my tea cup with both of my hands Breathing the vapors of fruit and flowers, Soaking up the warmth of the liquid inside, It touches my lips And sweetness is mixed with natural earthiness runs over my tongue and down my throat. Herbal tea that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315103/ The kettle whistles, and the funny-shaped glass cups fill with rich brown liquid… I’ll need three lumps of sugar and no cream this time… I travel thirteen hours for this, because the woman pouring the strong Turkish tea into small Turkish teacups is Jenni Perry. She sits down acr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315102/ How do you like your tea? With milk or sugar? Cream or honey? What shade of Indian, African, or Hispanic? I prefer mine smooth and Latino,While you keep it strong and Ethiopian. I say, "Make mine Mexican!" But you're more familiar with Argentineans,So as we talk the milk.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315101/ It is 8:00 p.m. on any old night, and I watch my dad fill the teapot with hot water, swirl it around, and pour it down the drain in the sink. I always feel a bit wasteful at this point in the ritual, but I keep quiet as I understand that this is an important part of our custom… the pot must b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315099/ Two lumps of sugar, a splash of milk, and then pour… that is the way to make a proper cup of tea. But how to drink the tea, to savor each drop and each moment… now that is an art of its own. It isn’t something that can be taught, as my dad taught me how to pre-heat the tea pot. I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315098/ Just a collection of snap-shots of times in my life when tea enriched my relationships. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315097/ The fairy goes to the human realm. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bowlofcherries/315090/