Timarie Friesen
Writing, Reading, Following Jesus


 

Mainly, I wanted a glimpse of Tiffany stained glass windows inside the downtown building.

I then consider the diverse mix of people at church who serve, and later scribble out mini vignettes to celebrate the faithful.

Calico embers floated up and trailed the night sky like shooting stars. A grand finale, then burn-out. Poof! But some of the embers fell...

The village prickled at the threat of occupying German forces. Colette guessed her neighbors hid behind locked doors with curtains drawn.

Most of the robins flew off soon as the ground froze.

These last weeks my mom led us through the country she adored, and I followed along reluctantly.

I make a U-turn. The driving today tires me. Miles of Iowa roads shuffling kids to sports and summer activities equal a road trip to...

Utilize strong verbs to make adverbs unnecessary. Try the writing prompt.

Update: Fathom Magazine published my poem in Issue 44, September 2021. “Let’s not,” I say, As I hand the shell back. “I don’t want a...

Marla carried the washtub into the kitchen when her toe caught the leg of a chair. Metal clanged after water spilled, but somehow she...

How does a writer tell a story if they can’t think of one to tell? Sometimes I write poems for lack of a plan. Poetry gets words on...

The vinca vine drank in the sunlight, and its leaves, once curled and parched, now looked like mini tea cups filled to the brim. Though...

While I enjoy writing blog posts, errors spring up and I find myself questioning the context of how something sounds. A few weeks ago, I...

The songs plop you down in the middle of Jerusalem the week before that first Easter. Golgotha is the title of the album, and the band is...

Something floated on the water. Benny saw it as he swam in the bay not far from shore. It drifted away from him and headed out to sea. He...

Art and creativity transpire when a farmer tames the land, an eye doctor restores sight, a widow comforts another widow, a computer...

"From Flora" (Short Story Title) Flora buzzed the doorbell a third time and looked up at Mrs. Savellini’s three-story home. The roof...

"The Catalog" (Short Story Title) When the Breck’s catalog arrived, Mrs. Savellini lifted it out of her mailbox and started thumbing...

Flora opened her door and there stood Mrs. Savellini frowning in the frozen morning. “It’s your responsibility to shovel the sidewalk,...

The writer opens her journal. It’s new, brand new, and hand-crafted of real leather with her name stamped on the cover. It was a gift for...