Saturday, March 30, 2013


In His Throne Room


Holy God, I worship You

with all that’s in me,

I enter Your presence.


Feeling a little odd,

knowing I’m dealing

 with an unseen world.


But you have revealed enough to me

that I know You are real

and all You say You are.


I come to You knowing You are love.

You are all powerful.

You are beautiful, wise and good.


You are King of kings

and Lord of lords.

You are IT for me, all I desire.


Wonderful, lovely, pure, Holy God!

I worship You,

feeling totally inadequate for the job.


So I unite my heart

with the Holy Spirit

and ask for His help.


Lord, I’m a poet

and you have gifted me,

but now my gift and words fail me.


Spirit, fill me, that I may offer

the Father praise and thanksgiving

in a fitting, worthy way.


I think of Heaven,

being in Your throne room

where many nations of people praise You.


Your glory emanates from Your throne,

filling, touching, transforming,

tingling through my body, my skin.


Excitement builds up

and longing, longing

for connection with Your incredible love.


The worship, the energy, the enthusiasm,

a thousand times a thousand

of an NFL football game.


Beauty greater than the Alaskan wilderness.

Joy greater than the birth of children and grandchildren.

Peace, purer and more untarnished than a mountain stream.


God, I long to be in that world!

It makes this world seem flat,

empty, dull, dirty.


Thank you, through faith in Christ,

I will live in that world

sooner than it will seem.


But while I live on this earth

may I experience this in my meditations

and let it flow out through the things I do.


I love You and worshinp You.

In the name of Your precious Son,

I pray. Amen!

Friday, March 29, 2013

wordle; Heavy, Island, Intent, Silent, Stone, Remain, Covers, Increases, Town, Clever, Seven, Count, Star, Art

 If Jesus Had Been Hung


Heavy hammers fell pounding, pounding through the night.

The little Island town seemed to quake and shiver at the blows.

Their cruel Intent was known from the youngest to the oldest.

And when the hammer fell silent hearts turned to stone.

No one wanted to remain, but they were captives, too.

They tossed and turned under covers as they waited for morning.

Their anxiety increased as the dressed and formed lines to the court yard.

The town’s people waited and finally he was brought forth,

His captors thinking themselves clever pulling on the rope looped around his neck.

They began to count and released the pull cord and the floor dropped down.

Seven minutes later he was dead. He hung there still when the first star came out.

The silhouette against the midnight blue made a macabre piece of art.

His lovers wept. His captors sneered. And three days later, the miracle.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

wordle: chaos, fear, lonely, trip, players, Crystal, hills, golden


Writing can be a lonely business,
spending long hours by oneself,
having chats with imaginary characters,
manipulating players on the created stage,
gazing across golden lakes,
and exploring crystal hills,
taking trips without leaving the room—
interspersed with the chaos of daily living,
getting this and that done, being here and there.
At times a writer may fear insanity,
but then types in hope
readers will read and understand.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

PA the last

 The Last Time I Saw You

You were laying there
Pale greenish against your sheets
Unaware I was standing over you 

My hero
My first love
My dad

Delightful memories
Hunting, fishing, gardening
Your sense of humor, your love

 And then unwanted images
Your bed, not a bed
But  a coffin 

I said my goodbyes
Kissed you on the forehead
Walked out the door

3 26 13 PA Blooming line messaging

Springtime of Soul 

Depression threatened
to rob springtime from my soul
and exchange it for dust,
only dust.

It wasn’t sunshine,
refreshing rains, birds singing
that transformed me.
God breathed in life. 

Emptiness, dryness, tears.
Colors, Fragrance, Music

Only dust
God breathed in life



3 25 13 PA Rispetto


Seeds die and birth deep roots and vine.
And sprout some stems and leaves come out.     
Soon blossoms sow their scent and shine.
Fruit forms to share with all about.                                                             
Eternal Seed beneath the ground.
His death breeds life to all around.
And likewise, we must learn to give.
To serve like Jesus frees to live.

3 24 13 Poetic Bloomings Celebration 10 by 10

Celebrating Poetic Bloomings in its Glory

What is God’s glory?  Who He is. His manifest presence.
 His divine express image.  His magnificent splendor. His holy essence.
His nature is revealed in creation with its own glory.
Each work of His hand is part of His story.
Glory—when majestic snowcapped mountains stand boldly against blue sky.
Glory—the miraculous function of a foot, hand or eye.
Glory—when a fruit tree is full of ripe fruit.
Glory—when nature is doing what it’s meant to do.
Glory—when poets are overflowing with dreams, passion, and creativity,
and grace the world with beauty and understanding in poetry.



3 23 13

Count Down

10 cat purring
9 ears ringing
8 clock ticking
7 neighbor’s door banging
6 traffic humming in the distance
5 ice maker gurgling
4 hubby shuffling in the back
3 keys tapping
2 car whooshing by
1 alarm going off

Blast off

Lord, may all go well
and according to Your plan today.
I love You.

Thank You for living right inside of me.

Friday, March 22, 2013

3 22 13 PB Blooming Kyrell Sonnet

Little Things 

Place little things in God’s large hands.
He knows all things and understands.
Don’t wait until the problem’s tall.
He’s big enough to care for small . 

Spend hours in His Holy Word.
Each hair is known, each prayer is heard.
The Lord  has love for one and all.
He’s big enough to care for small. 

Love Jesus in Your thoughts and prayer.
He never leaves. He’s always there.
He’ll pick you up each time you fall.
He’s big enough to care for small. 

Place little things in God’s large hands.
He’s big enough to care for small.

3 21 13 PA prompt

With the sun
Whispering spring wind
Winter deeply chagrined
Wants not to rescind
Winning’s fun

3 20 13

Childhood Innocence

Of purple cows and diamond drops
Concerned my dreams when I was young
To rave about the candy shops
To weep regretting songs unsung  

 Silk dreams forgotten long ago
The cloud of age like dreary snow
And childhood innocence does stray
Till its return to end the day

3 19 13


Before you go blaming yourself
For all the ills of the world
Think about whose side you’re on

Snow and ice aren’t less cold
With anything that has to do with you
So kiss the internal struggle goodbye 

Hope leaps like a frog after a fly
So get out from under the covers
And embrace God’s forgiveness

Monday, March 18, 2013

wordle: twisted, secret, forget, dreams, travel, sea,


In the twisted tangled mess call daily living,
a secret to learn well is simply giving.
Don’t forget there are others worse off than you.
Give and you may find your own dreams coming true.
Whether you travel by land, air or sea,
generosity leads you to where you want to be.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Poetic Bloomings green (Don't write about broccoli.)


I’ve been here these twenty years.
What started as a row of seedlings
has grown into and entangled jungle.
I gaze wistfully out the window
overlooking the parking lot, watching
children come and go as years pass.
They slip me cafeteria lunches
and I survive. And it’s all because
I wrote a poem about broccoli.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

wordle: arena, audience, appreciates, agree, applause

Thank You, Thank You Very Much 

In the arena of life,
one may ask what it’s all about.
Who are the players?
Who is the audience?
Everyone appreciates a good plot.
And actors generally agree applause is a good thing.
Lord, write my script. Be my divine audience.
May I treat other players with respect.
My greatest desire is to hear Your applause.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Wordle: rehearsal, convince, squirm, recover, chilled, pasty

Spring Rehearsal 

Mid-March, 70 degrees, spring rehearsal
nearly convinces me the show’s about to begin.
Inwardly I squirm, wanting to believe
and fully recover from winter’s dullness.
But afternoon air chills, sky turns pasty white.
How many more practice days
before spring flowers take center stage?

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Poetic Asides Baby


I think of Hannah of the Bible
who had competition
from her husband’s other wife
who ridiculed her for being barren.
Her husband said, “Don’t I
mean more to you than ten sons?”

Hannah begged God for a baby
in such a way the priest
thought she was drunk.

So if you see me at church
and think I’m inebriated
I’m just begging God for grandbabies.

I love my husband and children
but they don’t fill the bill
for ten grandchildren.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Poetic Bloomings Epulaeryu


Chocolate cake sandwiches
Icing filled middles
Western Pennsylvanians “Gobs”
Eastern “Whoopie pies”
Pumpkin flavored, too
Gobs of gobs

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

wordle: shatter harness ladder wilderness jar dollhouse


In the wilderness, not a sound meets the ear,
not a chatter of children playing with their dollhouse
or pretend horsemen harnessing their mounts
or “Look Daddy see what I can do!”

A crow shatters the silence with its urgent call.
It jars me from my reverie, and with my rifle
I climb the makeshift ladder to the lookout,
hoping to bag some meat for my family,

so they can continue happily at their games.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Morning Peace

In the morning when I stumble
Toward the sunrise and I mumble
At my problems with no solution
And plagued by mind pollution
I appeal to You for release
Please fill me with Your peace.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Poetic Bloomings wordle: demon, unfaitfhful, weakness, drunk, confidence, opaque, fix, solution, integrity, quietly


Demons smile at unfaithfulness,
wink at weakness
and dance to drunken delirium,
but their confidence soars in deception,
in opaque souls concealing sin.
Demons are fine with quick fixes,
seemingly sound solutions
based in human reasoning,
but they quake at integrity
and those who quietly trust in God.



Saturday, March 9, 2013

wordle: trembles, clouds, fervent, speaks

Creation trembles
Clouds form
Fervent love speaks

March 8, 2013 wordle: darkness, whispers, horns

One Day
Darkness--a cave
where you can’t see your hand
in front of your face.
Darkness whispers, tantalizes,
magnifying into a crescendo
of horns, trumpets and shofar’s call.
Blinding light. The last trump.

March 7, 2013 wordle: cruel, ache, pric, shuffle


Age makes cruel claims:
grayness, wrinkles, aches, pains.
The price intensifies until
we shuffle, slump, groan
then hope that age is not a destination
but a hallway to the grand ballroom.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013


I’m not sure where it came from,

perhaps because I lived in the same country home

for my first eighteen years.

Maybe it was because of the fun we had on vacations

 to Delaware, Michigan, north Pennsylvania.

It could be because of my parents’ encouragement

to get out and explore new places.

I’m not sure where the wanderlust came from.

But it’s like an itch

that starts from the inside.

It tingles in my fingers and feet.

When I get in the car

I think of getting on the highway

and not stopping.

I think of the places I haven’t been.

A yearning to get away from daily life

niggles at my mind.

The squares on my calendar

beg to be filled in with a new destination.

Perhaps it’s a spiritual affliction,

knowing that this world isn’t my home

and I shouldn’t get too comfortable here.










March 5, 2013 Revised Pantoum

Winter Ends 

Whites, ghost grays and stark blacks
Pennsylvanian winter
Iced-over river cracks
Icicles drop, splinter 

Pennsylvanian winter
Trees bold black silhouettes
Icicles drop, splinter
Ill-tempered gray-cloud threats 

Trees bold black silhouettes
Snow crunches underfoot
Ill-tempered gray cloud threats
Coal fires scatter soot 

Snow crunches underfoot
Wet cold chills to the bones
Coal fires scatter soot
Crows caw in raucous tones

Wet cold chills to the bones
Icy stream struggles free
Crows caw in raucous tones
Earth and sun disagree  

Icy stream struggles free
Days begin to grow long
Earth and sun disagree
Spring sings its hopeful song 

Days begin to grow long
Buds slyly form anew
Spring sings its hopeful song
Grass and tulips pokes through

Buds slyly form anew
Sky blues and greens replace
Grass and tulips pokes through
Waters quicken their pace 

Sky blues and greens replace
Whites, ghost grays and stark blacks
Waters quicken their pace
Iced-over river cracks

March 4, 2013 Poetic Bloomings Cascade

A Steep Hill 

Children bundled in many layers
Waddling like over-fed ducks
Pulling sleds and saucers
Trudging up a steep hill 

I sit on the floor resting
Clothes scattered all over the floor
I smile as I think of the fun they’ll have
Children bundled in many layers 

As I clean up, I remember
Friends working our way to the top
The thrill of flying down to the bottom
Waddling like over-fed ducks 

I bake cookies and get the hot chocolate ready
Put some extra logs on the fire
And wait for them to come home
Pulling sled and saucers

It takes a lot of work to raise children
Great things take effort
I learned this when I was young
Trudging up a steep hill

March 3, 2013 Poetic Asides knock on wood

That’s Why


I got up this sunny morning

With a to-do list ten miles long:

Wash the car, mow the yard

Write a children’s song


Clean the kitchen, mop the floor

Feed the kitty, clean its box

Do the laundry, vacuum up

Match the single socks


Run the errands, pay the bills

Put our supper in the pot

Read a book, exercise

Study how to plot.


So why didn’t I

do the things I should?

Of course it’s all because

I didn’t knock on wood.



March 2, 2013

The Pig in the Wig 

Once a friend who lived in town

Came to visit Farmer Brown

As he gazed out across the farmer’s land

What he saw, he couldn’t understand


There much to the friend’s surprise

Was an odd little piggy before his eyes

Can this be true? A pig in a wig?

And he seems to be doing some kind of jig.


Yes, the farmer said with a smile

Have some tea and sit awhile

I’ll tell you all about my little pig

Who likes to jig and wear a wig


He was born on this farm a year ago

On the night of new fallen snow

From that moment he was a happy fella

He made you smile this I tell ya


As he grew he danced about

And burrowed in mud with his piggy snout

A cheerful little guy. He wallowed and wiggled

It made me laugh, the way he giggled.


But something happened one cloudy day

When he overheard a ducky say

What’s wrong with that pig quackity quack

And the kitty cat answered him back


Meow she replied  it’s his pointy ears

They makes him look funny, it appears

It’s his eyes murmured a little mouse

Squeakity squeak they’re big as a house


So the little piggy wore a wig

Even though it was a little big

And sunglasses covered his eyes

And he thought he looked oh so wise



Honkity honk said the goose with a nod

That little piggy sure is odd.

And look at that funny curly tail

He should cover it with a pail.


So little piggy with tears in his eyes

Followed the goose’s silly advice

And stuck a bucket on his bum

Even though it sure looked dumb


And then an old mare named Nelly

Said neigh neigh neigh its’ his chubby belly

The little pig heard black was in

So he wore black pants to look more thin


Since he wears pants, he must wear a shirt,

Said Billy the bull with a snort.

The chickens clucked Oh me oh my

His nose is as big as an apple pie


Everything matches black piggy thought

So he found a shirt with polka dots

And to cover his offensive snout

He wore a bright red bandana round about



Look at those stubby little feet

Said the canary with a tweet

So piggy borrowed boots from me

Though he looked goofy as can be


As he lumbered about in that sad get up

He began to cry and wouldn’t let up

So I stepped in and said listen piggy

All that stuff won’t let you jiggy


So  piggy said Oink I’ve had enough

And took off all of that stuff

Off went the pail, the boots and the wig

And I started to see more of the pig


Off came the pants, shirt and sunglasses

And off came the bright red bandanna

He stared at the pile, and said the pig,

“But I really do like the wig.”


So now he gambols about with a piggy giggle

Rolls in the mud, with a wiggly wiggle

And joyfully dances his little jig

So that’s the story of my pig in a wig


I’ll take a lesson from this little guy,

Said the friend, I’ll tell you why

You can learn from others, this is true

But there’s nothing like just being you.