Poetry, & a few Short Stories
for Every Day of the Year
Richelle E. Goodrich
Richelle E. Goodrich
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quotes, poems, stories, and illustrations included in this book were
written and created by Richelle E. Goodrich.
to my son, Alexander
fearless in the pursuit of your dreams.
it comes to fighting for your dreams,
a dragon. Breathe fire.
-Richelle E. Goodrich
dragon that swallows the moon whole.
are trials in life that feel as tremendous as a quest to slay
dragons. These trials are daunting. They require hard work,
determination, and courage. But when the dragon is finally slain,
the relief is immense.
is tempting to quit striving toward a goal when you have neither the
time, the resources, the support, the means, nor perhaps the
confidence in talent to reach the level of standing you wish to
reach. But these are not reasons to quit. Move forward anyway. Try
your best. Put what little you do have into accomplishing what you
can, because along the way you may attain a portion of what you feel
is lacking. And owning a portion of a dream is better than owning no
dream at all. Never give up.
habits are demons that often push us into isolation because they know
that in our loneliness they stand little chance of being overcome.
grow like dragons if you feed them.
habits are spiraling slides that drag you round and round down the
narrowing end of a cone that eventually ends up in a dark, tight,
habits are hooked wings that steadily grow in girth and strength. At
first, they grasp and climb until those beautiful wings can lift the
bearer out of the darkness and above the clouds to heights few ever
saw a man climb a mountain with no feet or hands and barely a stump
for each arm and leg. At once I realized there was no excuse at all
for me not to scale my own mountains.
reach a goal:
it your best.
as you go.
off a little every day, because it’s hard to swallow a whole
pie at once.
remains idle and thrives. Life needs a moving force to prevent the
devastating effects of stagnancy. That is why life employs change.
drives us to set goals, to try harder, to put forth more effort, to
dream and wish and hope, to reach out further and down deeper, to
pray earnestly, to cry mightily, to understand and empathize with
valid sincerity. In truth, weakness is a catalyst for greater
you understand that faith is God’s muscle at your disposal,
moving mountains doesn’t seem so extraordinary.
are tomorrows on their way worth the struggles of today. Never give
be intimidated by what seems ominous, for BiG is only an accumulation
of many smalls.
know you would like to blame the world, but the fact is that life is
an “up to you” thing.
are unaware of their tremendous worth and boundless potential,
despite possessing both.
can do things.
you know this?
you believe it?
can do great things.
believe in yourself is to light a spark with the potential to start a
in the world that happens to
you may be someone else's doing; I'll grant you that. But what you
do with it, how you react to it, what you make of yourself in the
midst of it all—that's totally you.
not a dream, it’s my destiny.
down the road I’m traveling and you will see my goal; it’s
there on the path. Probably closer than it appears. Life tends to
roll that way.
can squelch your fire except turning your back on the thing that
that great accomplishments require great effort. If a goal is
achieved without effort, it is no accomplishment but a mere
it one step at a time—inarguably wise advice. And yet we all
take a running leap, hoping the wind will catch us on its wings and
lift us clear to the top of the beanstalk. Those few Jacks who have
reached new heights in this manner inevitably wish they had taken
more time to prepare for the overbearing giant who greeted them.
my lifetime I have witnessed far too many miracles to believe in
impossibilities, and so I am officially modifying the definition.
definition: Unable to be done.
definition: Unable to be ignored until done.
there is not enough time to do your best, do the best you can with
the time you have.
isn’t always true that desperate means are justified by a
turns out that the simplest choices have been far more important in
the long run than I ever imagined.
never step backwards when you’re sure of where you’re
may be an island out of reach, but setting your sails toward it makes
for a magnificent voyage.
truth is, when you have little to do, you do very little. But when
you have much to do, you do much. So it should make sense that by
taking on more than you can handle, you accomplish more than you ever
dreamed you could. And so it is.
your latest efforts fail, don’t quit. When your performance is
scoffed and ridiculed, don’t quit. When you’re told you
have no talent, don’t quit. When you come in dead last, don’t
quit. When it seems an uphill fight to keep going, don’t quit.
When you can’t see any possible way to achieve your goals,
don’t quit. When your last supporter is you alone, don’t
quit. When discouragement and depression seem your constant
companion, don’t quit. When you feel like quitting, don’t
and time again you will crave relief from the harsh fight of trying
to succeed. You will falsely think that quitting will bring peace
and reprieve, but alas, only regret and disappointment await the
quitter. Victory means never ever quitting.
— Herensuge —
The dragon with sweet, tempting breath.
slay dragons at night while you sleep.
see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams.
a magic sword, I plunge into your deepest nightmares and swing at the
beasts with all my might, dodging flames exhaled by monsters that
would eat me alive to go on torturing the fair one I love. I see
your face relax, eyes still drowsily closed, when the mighty dragon
may be that my fingers rub soft circles on your forehead as I imagine
my brave fight as a knight reclaiming your dreams. You smile under
the spell of my touch, and I am rewarded. And so, my love, as I
await the dawn, I stand ready to slay dragons while you sleep.
seems my heart is made of tissue paper; I wish the world would handle
it more delicately.
love you for a great many reasons and despite a great many others.
search the world over looking for someone to love them, when they
should be searching for someone to love.
you were to sacrifice even a portion of yourself for the
relationship, you would naturally fall in love with him. I guarantee
The Return of a Queen
is donating a chunk of your life to patch up holes in the life of
rarest, truest beauty is visible only to the heart.
real beauty of a woman is most clearly seen in the smiles of those
who interact with her.
God were to make a million lovely flowers in your image and plant
them in a garden with you among them, I would still know you by your
scent and by the feel of your petals and by the crazy way you lean
towards my light whenever I draw near.
knight may not wear a coat of shining armor, but his code of glowing
honor will never fail to protect us both from evils far worse than
any fire-breathing dragon.”
Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year
love you” sounds best spoken in quiet acts of kindness.
in its essence is unconditional. When conditions, exceptions, and
ultimatums are cast into the mix, its purity changes. It is no longer
love and should be referred to by a less-desirable name.
to you in haiku.
you love me too?
I ask you to be my valentine, I’m not asking you to love me.
I’m simply asking you to accept tokens of my love for you.
you love someone, you don’t care that she ate your sandwich.
You only hope she found it delicious.
is the ultimate no-calorie sweetener.
face is engraved in my mind. I can’t erase it. I don’t
want to. Because as much as I hate you, I love you. And I love you
love” is a redundant expression; if it’s not
unconditional, then it’s not love.
stop. If you keep chipping off little pieces of my heart, soon there
will be no heart left with which to love you.
love isn’t meant to be bliss never-ending.
love is unwavering support and befriending.
you never bother to say the words, why should anyone believe you ever
hope you know I love you, not just because I tell you so at every
opportunity, but because I show you so as often as the sun sets.
Love by the sweat of thy brow.
Not through whispered words of hollow sound or lofty
dreams ne’er substance bound that more than oft do run aground.
Nay, love with mighty, blistered hands that turn the soil and carve
the land. A bearer of toil and golden band.
Be strong! A founder of the feast!
Protective knight who slays the beast!
For promises and vows aloud are naught but wispy veneer
shroud like cobwebs, frail, the airy words and wooing fail. So work,
my darling. Toil as proof. Thy loyal heart be drained of youth and
yet beat on, incessant sound. Both feet take root within the ground,
and service be thy kingly crown.
Love by the sweat of thy brow.
I first heard your voice, my heart leapt in my chest as if it
recognized you as its owner from another lifetime.
laughed, and he fell in love.
At the core of love is validation. It is what gives
when love is given away, validation seeps in and expands in the heart
of the recipient, filling up every empty, dark corner. It is a
wonderful, light, consuming feeling we long for, and once found, we
hope—even expect—it will forever remain. But there are
times when that most precious love is revoked, and a hard scab forms
over the empty hole. Though this scab is both healing and
protective, it is the reason why validation from future love may not
seep in so easily, no matter how wanting the heart.
is love and then there is fluff. Nothing else.
was another longing I kept stashed in the deepest, darkest recess of
my heart. It was my most compelling secret of all. Though, I
suppose, it was more an empty vessel cradled by my soul wishing to
someday be filled. It was my desire to belong, to be wanted, to
The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
is, I’m generally happiest when it’s just me. It’s
okay to be madly in love with yourself.
— Guivre —
aggressive dragon that prowls the countryside.
wear my wrinkles like battle scars, having earned every last one
slaying life’s dragons. They boast of my victories and some
defeats while their beauty is a wealth of wisdom gained.
you suffer lingering doubts; if the consolation you cling to is ‘it
will probably be okay,’
then run the other way because what you’re contemplating is not
a good choice.
sat in a box
walls on each side.
sat in a box and cried.
is the heart withdrawing to seek shelter from the pain.
Raccoon, for reasons real and personal, had sunk into a sorrowful
mood. It wasn’t just a sullen slump or a sighing sort of
sadness. No. Poor Raccoon had endured one of life’s harder
trials and was consequently overcome with a wretched, grim, tearful
type of sorrow. It wasn’t long before a close friend wandered
by and noticed Raccoon’s dark, quiet burrow echoing a sound of
sobbing. Curious and concerned, Brown Beaver invited himself in.
my, such weeping! All is not well to be sure!” Beaver hurried
over and placed a hand on the shoulder of his troubled friend. “Tell
me please, whatever is the matter?”
Racoon said nothing, unless the whimpers that accompany tears can be
considered a response.
dear, something must be done,” determined Beaver. So he
arranged a stack of wood in the hearth and lit a cozy fire.
now, here is a little light and comfort. Surely this will make you
Raccoon continued to cry, rubbing at black, swollen eyes as if the
light were a harsh contributor to misery.
no,” sighed Beaver. “This is not good, not at all. I
must go find help.” With a promise to quickly return, he left
Raccoon beside the fire.
minutes passed before Beaver stuck his head inside the warm burrow.
Below him poked in a tinier head belonging to Squirrel.
dear, oh dear, you're right! This is a miserable sight!”
hurried into the room and proceeded to remove a handful of nuts
stored in his cheeks. He then tossed them into a pan over the
smoldering fire built by Beaver. Soon, the room was saturated with
the rich, buttery smell of roasted nuts.
you are, Raccoon,” said Squirrel, shaking the nuts onto a
plate. “Some comfort food will certainly make you feel better.
didn't even glance at the offered plate but continued to cry and
sniffle as if the fragrant smell were an enhancer of sadness.
Squirrel looked at Beaver. Both were clueless as to what to do.
must go find someone who can help,” they decided.
quick as a wink the pair left and returned with Black Cat who took a
minute to size up the situation. She then confidently declared, “We
must dry up these tears, for no one can eat and be happy when soaked
that thought, the three friends wiped at Raccoon’s wet fur,
sopping up handkerchiefs in the process. Black Cat even went so far
as to purr a quiet, relaxing chord while licking at the glistening
fur around Raccoon’s eyes, and yet the tears continued to
spill, replacing those washed away.
this most certainly is not working,” Cat finally admitted,
lamentably swooshing her tail. Beaver and Squirrel readily agreed.
“We must go find someone who can help!”
hardly stepped outside when the slender form of Corn Snake appeared
in the road and slithered over to them. Snake was informed as to
Raccoon's sorry state and came up with a fine idea.
poor dear simply needs some hugs and kisses. A bit of affection will
dry up those unhappy tears.”
it was worth a try, the four turned right around to enter the burrow
and encircle Raccoon, administering snug hugs and tender kisses.
Snake gave an especially tight hug, but it had no effect at all on
Raccoon’s woeful weeping. Even a ticklish kiss from a forked
tongue received no favorable response. The four friends were
beginning to feel a bit glum themselves when Calandra Lark came
flittering into the burrow.
tweet, tweet! Whatever is the matter?”
dear, Calandra, just look! Raccoon is extremely sad. Yet as hard as
we have tried, our efforts have failed to stop the tears.”
that all?” Calandra Lark chirped, perching on the fireplace
mantle. “’Tis nothing a happy song can’t remedy.”
out her feathery chest to convey a mountain of confidence, the little
bird began to chirp a bright and lively tune. Calandra twittered and
tweeted and even trilled many a string of notes, but the cheerier the
tune, the more Raccoon appeared to cry. At long last, Miss Lark
what is to be done?” she sighed. “There must be someone
who can help!” No sooner had she said the words then a
high-pitched squeal of laughter carried from outside. Swinging down
from a tree into the warm, crowded burrow, Monkey addressed a group
of surprised onlookers.
I hear that someone is in need of my help?”
yes, indeed!” the five agreed simultaneously. “Look
here! Raccoon is so sad, and yet nothing we have done has relieved
laughed aloud again, not meaning to be insensitive. “Eee, eee,
eee! Do not worry, for I will cheer up our good friend in an
crossed the room on feet and hands to stand directly before the
saddest of souls. He then delved into chipper chatter, telling
jokes, answering his own riddles, and laughing at his own humorous
stories. At last, he attempted only calm words of comfort because
Raccoon continued to cry, making pitiable noises as if the jollity
was anguish to bear. Needless to say, nothing worked to halt the
me, oh my! Poor, poor, poor Raccoon!” the company cried,
succumbing to a measure of grief and sorrow themselves. “Please,
tell us—whatever is the matter with you?” But Raccoon
shrank into a tighter ball, withdrawing while giving them no answer.
with concern, the six good friends stepped outside Raccoon’s
burrow to discuss the problem, hoping to hit upon a solution. They
were running short of ideas. Debating whether or not to render the
weeper unconscious, a strong voice of objection cut them off. Every
head turned to see Red Fox step out of the underbrush.
Fox, if not this, then what should we do? For Raccoon has been
crying inconsolably for hours! We have tried light and warmth,
tempting food, wiping away tears, hugs and affection, cheerful songs,
and kind words of comfort. None of it has had any effect on
Raccoon’s dreadful sadness!”
Fox walked up to the burrow entrance on quiet paws, but before
ducking inside he turned and voiced an idea no one else had possessed
the sense to think up. For it seemed to them rather senseless.
is like a cloud in the sky; it exists out of grasp. Therefore, the
only option is to let sadness be sad until it is not.”
as to what Red Fox intended to do, the others followed him inside.
There, he took a seat beside Raccoon and waited. He did nothing but
sit. Nothing at all.
lacking a better idea—Beaver, Squirrel, Black Cat, Corn Snake,
Calandra Lark, and Monkey all settled inside Raccoon’s burrow
and likewise did nothing. The house remained quiet for hours upon
hours as weeping, sniveling, and the occasional sigh carried over the
sound of a crackling fire kept alive by Beaver.
nodded off for a brief spell, but no one left the room or made any
attempt to keep sadness from being sad—as Fox had wisely
and at long last, the gloomy cloud dissipated. All eyes turned to
Raccoon, realizing that what had seemed like inconsolable grief had
somehow transformed. Raccoon sat up and looked around, exchanging a
small smile with each and every sympathetic face.
you, my friends.”
you for what?” someone asked, though others certainly wondered.
For while Raccoon had wept a river of tears, they had done nothing
but sit as still and noiseless as tree stumps.
paws with Red Fox, Raccoon softly said, “Thank you for giving
when they understood. More often than not, the only thing that can
lift the heavy fog of sorrow is time.
is like sandpaper; it rubs at our sharper edges, softening and
humbling us, making us ready for a coat of compassion.
be a rainbow in someone’s cloud is commendable, but I prefer to
be the rain because it dampens cheeks and washes away tears.
think in the heart of every human being there burns an ember of hope
that warmly entices us to believe everything will eventually come
together into one perfect day, and that potentially the hours in this
day will stretch on indefinitely. And so we live our lives in
hopeful anticipation, dreaming and praying to reach this wondrous
day, while in the process we miss out on the anxious affair that life
truly is. Life is not perfection; it is everything else. We must
taste and experience heartaches and trials in order to feel the
genuine joy that comes from enduring them well. We then move on,
wiser and more capable of charity—this being pure love and the
reason for life’s trials altogether.
cries for us in the same way we cry for others. His tears most often
spill over for the pain and suffering caused from the mortal misuse
of a gift called agency. He will not revoke the gift. It was
promised to us for the duration of our time on Earth. But He will
hold each one of us accountable in the end for how we applied this
power of agency.
heart has a layer of sadness, whether deeply buried or covering the
surface for all to see.
frustrating to think you can be lost to yourself. And yet how often
it is that a stranger stares back at you from the mirror. Maybe in
truth we never see ourselves as clearly as the thousands of eyes that
daily take us in.
often we let others stamp a price tag on us and we accept their
appraisal of our worth, forgetting we are in fact priceless.
I expect nothing of you, it will be far easier to forgive your
offenses than if I place my whole world in your hands.
wind is made of haunting souls
moan and groan
whistles and whispers.
ghostly choir chills the breeze
orchestrates a rise of goose bumps
single voice—no matter how soft the peep—longs to be
snog o’ bliss,