The Pit

As if waiting in the shadows
With no definitive genesis,
This happenstance of woe
Insinuates its prejudice
It traps you from within
Until you're left without
The simplest self-defense--
And plagued by strong self-doubt

Struggling but not finding
The source of all the trouble,
Lost in a maze-like prison
Inside an impervious bubble
It looks like it's safe and secure,
But really it keeps freedom out
No one hears your muffled cries--
As hard as you try to shout

An unfair fight ensues,
Finds you grasping a mere short stick--
A fruitless tool you don't want
And one that you did not pick
Love for yourself a mere shadow,
Held from you at arm's length;
Keeping you small and weak,
Draining away your strength

You turn to food for comfort
And sleep to numb the heart
Chores chaotically pile up
You ask, 'When will life restart?'
It's hard to recall the good days;
Their memory rapidly fades,
And it seems you've always been here--
Blotted out by dark, drawn shades

If light could only enter
And illuminate hope once again,
There's a chance that you could rally
And lift bravely an ardent chin
But joy remains a carrot
And peace a broken wing
Til the only voices you hear
Have forgotten how to sing

© 2026 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Disqualified Leaders

Little by little they crumble,  erode,
Imperceptible at the start
So tall and massively built,
By loyalty of the heart.
The slightest misalignment
Causes cracks, at first unseen
Their hands--deeds thereof hidden--
We don't see that they're unclean,
Til one day something breaks
And the idol we've erected
Comes crashing down headlong
Like a king that God’s rejected.
The blind and unaware
Want to build it up again,
Sweep up the broken pieces,
Ignore the blatant sin.
A leader of God’s house
Is held to a higher demand--
Charged to protect the flock
And for righteousness to stand.
Have we somehow forgotten
The poignant words of Paul?
"Follow me as I follow Christ."
That's the measure of it all.
Abusers,  liars, false teachers
Should never be given free board
For the Lord Jesus loves His body,
And He's coming with a sword.
Corruption and pride, with their secrets,
Will fall to obliteration--
And those who have carried their torch
Be removed without hesitation.
For God hates a lying tongue
And hearts that devise wicked schemes;
And we can't ignore His Word
To fulfill our "peace and love" dreams.
Yes, God is a God of love,
And in love He's cleansing His bride.
There's no room for a god beside Him;
That is something He will not abide.
Too long we've exalted leaders
Under banners of honor, so high
That we've left the Lord in the shadows
And made men our Adonai.
God’s crying out for repentance
As leaders around us fall.
Let us truly repent for exalting
Those who shouldn't be leaders at all.

© 2026 Teresa Miles Kephart 

More Joy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crisp, like a fresh-printed dollar

Fresh, like clean sheets on your bed

New, like an outfit's first wearing

A novel idea, an "instead"

 

Joy, of your heartbeat, your life-force

Feeling powerfully, fully alive

Redemptive air filling your nostrils,

Like a bee buzzing out of its hive

  

Life, often a raging inferno,

Presses, pushes, steals your joy

And empties your grateful reserves

Like a frozen dead-battery toy

 

But...what if it could be renewed—

Refreshed and rejuvenated,

Replenished and restored—

And your thirst for its fullness sated?

 

What if God’s storehouse of joy

Has no limits, with no debt incurred—

With generous amounts freely given,

According to His Holy Word?

 

Joy is found in His sweet presence

It’s a gift that’s been ordained

He desires to give us more joy

Than can possibly be contained

 

Heaven’s joy is our ultimate strength

And draws us to seek Him more

May our prayer for this year be to walk

In more joy than ever before

 

© 2026 Teresa Miles Kephart

 

 

Driving Big Trucks

You like driving big trucks? So do I.
Long hours versus wide open sky.
Sunrises and sunsets ingrained,
With HOS schedules maintained.
Long-distance hauls have their appeal
Seated high, open road--steer the wheel.
Many OTR's, loads, cafes, stations.
My kin have been driving for generations.
Bobtail, Cash boxes, and big slabs--
With snacks stashed away in the cab.
Hard-pressed to get sleep, but I rest
As much as I can on this quest.
Truckstop coffee's an added punch
To reach the next checkpoint by lunch.
Alert, hauling butt, watching out--
Logs, hazmats, and reefers all stout.
Skins pumped to pressure, engine serviced,
Rig in gear--there's no need to be nervous.
I count off the miles left to burn,
While loved ones wait for my return.

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Keeping Up

Trends, styles, the perfect vibe
"The look" for your age, fashion-hip
Mindfulness, self-awareness
"The moves" -- shuffle, wool tang, whip
Mental-emotional health
Mood balance strong, on point
Past traumas dived in, dealt with
Working each muscle and joint
Advancing in the workplace
Certifications, degrees
Relationship-savvy, likeable
Aiming, as always, to please
So many standards, demands
Too much to attain them all
Life itself is an intricate process
Not a target that's hit by a ball
It's not ladder or catwalk or sport
Nor a double elimination
It's not formulas or tonics
Or based on any equation
There's so much to "keep up with,"
The mass can weigh you down
But only one thing is required--
It is simple yet profound
To choose a part that is good,
According to God's own plan
We're told to act justly, love mercy;
Walk humbly while holding his hand
You don't have to keep up appearance
Or bite and claw up to the peak
For unless God meets you there,
It's not the high mountain you seek
Don't try to keep up with the world
Or meet others' wild demands
The only list to keep up with
Is what you have placed in God's hands

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

You Are a Legend

Your talent is unparalleled
In many art avenues,
And everyone's amazed
By the detail that you use.
But aside from artist stylings,
You're quite the contemplator,
With many ideas and plans
Inside that formulator.
An engineer and teacher
Are all wrapped up in you.
You're even a bit zoologist
And a budding botanist too.
With all your many aptitudes,
Could there be room for one more?
You're witty and hilarious,
And you make folks roll on the floor.
What's more, you're kind and thoughtful
And love to give great gifts;
And every time I receive one,
My spirit naturally lifts.
I can't fathom my life without you.
I miss you when we are apart.
Kalina, you are a legend--
And I love you with all of my heart.

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Feed Your Artistic Need

Conditions an artistic endeavor requires
Add fuel to the flame that ignites and inspires:
Peace of mind, joyful thoughts, a good night’s sleep;
Random illuminations that spark creative leaps;
Getting out in nature, by beauty surrounded.
Exposure to others’ art keeps one well-rounded.
A clean and organized, spacious workspace 
That is unshared—just yours—to find your best pace;
To know your work won’t be disturbed or moved
Helps one to get into an artistic groove.
A positive head space, good music, great snacks
Can feed imagination by oiling the tracks;

And color can add a new vibe, a bright spark
To bring dormant passions back out of the dark,
Instilling new hope in the art life you lead--
All because you have fed your artistic need.

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Extra Pillowy

Extra pillowy
Well-whipped, creamy, nutty fudge
Heaven on a plate

Extra pillowy
A bed of cushioned comfort
Fluffed, with fresh linens

Extra pillowy
Mashed potatoes, whipped with loads
Of butter, cream cheese

Extra pillowy
My favorite stuffed plushie
To cuddle and love 

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Family Breakfast

The family all together
Passing plates around
"Mmm" and "yumm" arise
In strong euphoric sound
Syrup being poured
Forks at sausage stabbing
Melting pats of butter
Bouts of whipped cream-grabbing
The bacon's smoky scent
Eyes lit up and gleaming
Berries of such size
The children think they're dreaming
This isn't a holiday meal
Or even a special event
It's simply family breakfast
Made with love--with loved ones spent 

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart 

Imagine It is Possible to Be Content Offline

 

There are many things on which I’d bet,

But could I live without internet?

I’m not sure how well that would set

In fact, I would not take that bet

Now, for just a time it’d be fine,

But after a while I would pine

Not simply because “techno-stuff”

But ‘cause keeping in touch would be tough

All my people—I really like them!

And it’s easy to post or PM

What’s more, streaming flicks with the fam

(Watching movies is kind of my jam)

Then there’s video calls for the win,

So my grandkids can fill me in

And they still can see my face

While I’m home, in my own space—

It’s really a marvel of tech,

So I figure…what the heck?

I’ll enjoy this intricate plat

That allows me to blog, shop, and chat

Sometimes, yes, it is fun to look back

To when life was not at risk of “hack,”

And it’s good to keep things in check,

Especially regarding tech

To remember, it’s simply a tool—

And not meant to control us or rule

So, it’s good now and then to unhook—

Do some art, see the beach, read a book;

To remind ourselves of the simple—

Before reels of popping a pimple

For as we put first that which matters,

Our dependence on media shatters

And it’s easier to be content

When time is not wasted but spent

On the people we love—bearing fruits—

Outside of cyber pursuits

© 2025 Teresa Miles Kephart