Monday, April 27, 2015

PAD #27 Looking Back

Looking Back

If I could look back
on all the choices I have made,
like clothes hanging in a closet,
what would I choose to try on?
What would I discard?

I think I’d change them all—
choose something more upbeat,
colorful, stylish.
Something with a little more pizazz.
Something smooth and silky.

But then when I grew old
in that alternate world,
I might wish for the worn
comfortable, faded jeans
I’m wearing now. 

Sunday, April 26, 2015

PAD # 26 Words Shakespeare invented

This is an alphabet poem using Shakespeare's words except for k and q. I use ex for x and the title is also Shakespeare's.


Will rain arouse still sleeping buds
Which form small bumps upon thin twigs?
“The weatherman,” a critic claims,
“His status dwindles. He reneges!”

Exposure to white morning frost.
Gray, frugal clouds withhold their store.
Sad, gloomy sky darkens sad sun.
Air hints of rain, but nothing more.

Stale drought impedes the waiting growth,  
Becoming jaded by cold’s strength.
We hope each limb will keep its life,
While lonely from long winter’s length.

Majestic life waits in the wings,
While spring negotiates awhile.
It seems obscene to wait so long,
While winter pukes with evil smile.

How quietly young tulips sleep.
Their radiance anticipates.
With swagger they will burst aflame,
When tranquil sun rushes strong gates.

Spring seems unreal though every year,
Wild varied weather has no date.
Not worthless even if frost bites
And rain brings its excitement late,

Then yields its glory in the sun
And sets life free in zany fun.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

PAD #25 across the sea

A Forgotten Name

Across the sea,
somewhere in
in some dusty books,
perhaps in a church
older than anything
the United States
has ever seen,
my ancestors' names
were scrawled,
just letting people know
they once existed
and I am also proof,
yet, I wonder who they were
and what they were like
and how long it will be

before I am just like them.

Friday, April 24, 2015

PAD # 24 moment

Strength Unseen

I wheeled my eight-year-old son’s chair
out of the consultation room.
His face was so pale that his freckles
across his nose had disappeared.

We had just received potentially bad news.
I felt small in the big children’s hospital.
A line from Job ran through my mind,
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”

At that moment, I knew
regardless of the test results,
God would give us whatever it took
to see us through.

We just celebrated my son’s thirtieth birthday.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

PA # 23 Historic

History Class

Mr. Bryson was tall, loud, and mean.
He taught history with a vengeance
as if he loved torturing eighth graders
with dates, battles, and musty facts.
That first summer vacation day,
it was like being able to breathe again
after being buried in a tomb of one those
old generals he tried to resurrect.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

PA # 22 nature

World of trees
My dad and I hike
Ferns, rocks, creeks
Sun patches
Him at home like deer and bear
Adventure to me

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

PA # 21 You are

You are…

You are my

You are my

You are my
all in all.

You are my

You are my