My Travel Buddy
My buddy
travels with me
to Kenya, England, Italy,
wherever I go.
He hungrily eats up
tightly packed pants,
tops, toiletries,
socks, unmentionables.
He gleefully rolls along
airport hallways,
though he suffers indignities
from baggage handlers.
At home, he undergoes surgery,
as I extract stuff out of his belly.
And then he waits impatiently
in my closet till next trip.
Explosion
It was an explosion
of energy, noise,
sappy pine boughs,
heat and sticky glue,
bells and balls,
ribbons and tiny toys,
snowflakes and Santas.
Fourteen children
made beautiful
Christmas swags.
No casualties.
But I hobbled into my home
feeling the brunt of the blast.
Preparation
Lesson I’ve learned.
Practice
what you’re having kids craft
saves a lot of time.
That’s why, yesterday,
I made a Christmas swag.
In the Genes
Growing up,
my mom always urged,
“Lay out your clothes
before you go to bed.”
I never got into the habit.
My daughter
did it
without me
even asking.
Somehow it
skipped
a generation.
Unprepared
The clock is ticking
Pack lunches
Fill backpack
Eat, brush teeth, shoes, scrape
windshield
And hope I’m not late
Taking the Chance
I’ll travel while I have the chance.
I never know when I’ll be
grounded,
By health, finance or civil
unrest.
I’ll go while it seems unbounded.
I’m not sure why I have this itch,
To see the world while I’m here.
When I travel, I feel more
alive.
With God’s help, I’ll go
without fear.
Australia, New Zealand, the
Philippines,
Japan, Eastern Europe,
Mauritius,
Iceland, Denmark, Panama—
All these places sound
delicious!
He and she met by chance
At a Sadie Hopkins dance
They twirled and bopped
They swung and hopped
And formed a fine romance
Chance
C hange happens day by day
H ow and when it’s hard to say
A ll I know is behind the
scenes
N ow and always is a great God
C aring, loving, orchestrating
E ven if it seems like mere
chance.
Gathering
G etting together
A round a purpose:
T hanksgiving, to give thanks
and
H ave a feast of turkey and
trimmings.
E easter to praise God for the
R esurrection of Christ.
I gather with believers and rejoice.
There are a
N umber of reasons why people
assemble.
G atherings can be very special
times.
Like Paul
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not
do, but what I hate I do. Romans 7:15
Sometimes, my “wanter” goes
astray
And wants what it can’t have.
A battle wages inside me
I need someone to save.
When cravings and the Lord’s
good will
Refuse to so align.
I trust the work done on the
cross
And know it turns out fine.
The Bible says delight in Him,
He gives what we desire.
But first, the “wanter” He will
change.
And that puts out the fire.
Chocolate
Chocolate in my cupboard
Calling out my name.
Halloween was the excuse.
Now this craving I can’t tame.
I would hate to waste it,
And also waste a dollar.
So I’ll just sit back
And let that chocolate holler.
Pickle Dream
Last night, I had a pickle dream.
I had one in each fist.
I’d explain to all my friends
Nothing was wrong with this.
That I wasn’t expecting a baby.
I just wanted pickles.
I woke up laughing at myself.
At times a dream tickles.
A Poem for Sale
Yes,
I’ve sold a few
to
magazines
and
ezines.
I’ve
written some custom ones.
Those
were the most fun.
Google
reveals poets
are
making a go of custom poetry.
I
wonder if it works.
With
AI, perhaps
it’s
becoming obsolete.
A Poem for an Awesome Cashier
Halfway
between Denver and home,
my
friend and I stopped for lunch.
I
ordered a panini at the counter.
The
girl said, “Awesome.”
I
ordered chips and coke,
she
declared them both, “awesome.”
I
paid with a debit card which was “awesome.”
My
friend had to use the bathroom.
For
some reason that was awesome, too.
While
waiting about twenty minutes
for
my panini, listening to the girl
taking
orders from other customers,
I
wondered if she aimed for Guinness.
I
thought if I had a nickel for every time
she
said awesome, I’d get a free lunch.
I
contemplated what she would say
If
something really awesome happened.
If
she won a million dollars.
Learned
she was getting a new niece.
Or
her favorite celebrity dropped in.
Would
she say awesome?
Super
awesome?
Would she realize how she overused "awesome"?
Poem for Christmas Cards
To my dear
friends and family,
Concerning
twenty twenty-four,
I hope your year
was good and fun.
We’ve been
blessed like before.
We began the
year with our two kids,
To Mesa we did
roam.
We had spent
Christmas there,
And then we
went on home.
With no events
from day to day,
I cook and clean
and write.
We watch dear Jacob
once a week,
or more. At
times, at night.
And once a week
I help with kids,
In forest with
my friend.
In summer, yardwork’s
ever there.
There seems to
be no end.
I spoke on
Sacredness of Work
At local women’s
group.
And met a friend
who likes to hike.
We hike until
we droop.
We had a
special visit here
From Loren’s
bro and wife.
We walked, played
games and went to church,
A highlight of
our life.
In May, our
Prius up and died.
A Camry, we did
buy.
July, we went
to Mesa, so
From Phoenix I
could fly.
To Denver, then
to Germany,
We went on a
mission,
A group of seventeen
of us
To help build a
kitchen.
In August, went
to training camp,
Was for the
nature school.
I met good
people, had some fun,
That time was
really cool.
When school
began, took off a month
For Mesa and Lincoln.
With family in
both places
That’s what we
were think’n.
Sis and I went to Italy.
Did more than I can say.
We saw the sights from north to south,
From Venice to Pompeii.
Writer’s retreat in Tuscany,
Roman coliseum,
Assisi, Padua, Capri,
David in museum.
Then sisters
met in Ohio.
There’s five of
us in all.
We saw our great,
great nephew babe
And nephews who
are tall.
Then we went to
Pennsylvania
To see where we
grew up.
We chatted with
an old neighbor
And
cousins with their pup.
Then
back to Mesa and then home
And
made my to-do list,
But
I wasn’t there very long
And
then another trip.
Just
an eight-hour drive from home,
A
women’s church retreat.
We
sang and praised weekend away,
And
had good things to eat.
November
tried to find my groove,
And
stay right where I’m at.
So
that’s my year poetic form.
I
think I need a nap.
So
Merry Christmas to you all
And
have a happy year.
And
may year twenty-twenty five
Soon
bring you joy and cheer.
Sneaky Somebody
Somebody pushed me.
Somebody pulled my hair.
Somebody tore my paper.
Somebody stole my pencil.
Somebody made that noise.
Somebody called me names.
Somebody did it.
Missing Motivation
Floating in the fog
Melting in the mist
Disappearing in the
dark
Removed in the rain
Elusively evaporating
Nameless in my
neurons
Faceless in my
features
Connection
“Nameless”
By Lori Peters,
my daughter’s
first book of poems.
She claims
eliminating the name
prods the reader
to dig deeper
and find another way
to identify
with the character.
Perhaps “Faceless”
will be the sequel.
Young Love
You weren’t so
handsome, but handsome enough,
And tall and thin not
rugged, strong or tough.
Oh, but you were so
fun to be around.
Together, we adventured
off the cuff.
Snowballs and field
became a battle ground.
We swung on some
strong grapevines that we found.
Or hiked along a
creek one summer day.
And danced along to seventies
rock sound.
We’d take long walks
in rain when skies were gray,
Or climb a fire
tower by the way.
And though, we
worked and studied like we planned,
We often found
excuses to just play.
One summer, I was
off to distant land.
We didn’t know our
ending was at hand.
What lay ahead, we
didn’t understand.
What lay ahead, we didn’t
understand.
Reminiscent
It would have been dark except for the snow.
The street lights caught the flakes that flitted down.
And all around a warm nostalgic glow,
Reminding me of times in a past town,
When the whole world seemed like one big playground.
And holding hands we’d laugh and gently kiss,
Or ball up snow and toss it, hit and miss.
My thoughts that evening felt so bittersweet.
It stirred up longing as I reminisced
And trudged along one night on my home street.
To Be a Writer
So, you want to be a writer?
You’re waiting for the muse.
The inspiration.
The eureka.
The zone.
The flow.
Good luck with that.
Luck
L uck lets me down.
U ndestanding and wisdom from the
C reator will guide me and
K eep my steps on a sure path.
With a Coin Toss
If you don’t know
what to choose,
this or that
one way or the other,
flip a coin.
Your feelings about
the heads or tails
will help you decide.
Remedy
I always do a happy dance
When a trip is in the works.
Longing to go wandering
Is one of my quirks.
There is no need to rush,
I just got back from one.
But I’d feel more inspired,
Getting ready to have fun.
Maybe it’s like a carrot
Dangling before the donkey’s nose,
Something to motivate
As my “been there” list grows.
Lately, I’ve been feeling
A bit under the weather.
I’m sure some plane tickets
Would help me feel better.
Signs
She had two thumbs up and a
big smile.
I knew she was feeling
better.
She wore a daisy for added
style.
She had two thumbs up and
a big smile.
I hadn’t seen her that
happy in a while.
Even her hair looked
redder.
She had two thumbs up and
a big smile.
I knew she was feeling
better.
Somewhere in the Middle
It would be good to feel better or worse,
But lately I just feel blah, not good, not bad.
Somehow, I’ve gotten knocked off course.
It would be good to feel better or worse.
I feel like I’ve fallen from my horse
But emotions are never ironclad.
It would be good to feel better or worse,
But lately I just feel blah, not good, not bad.
Lost
L osing my way. I’ve done it so
O ften. Going this way and that.
S et off in the wrong direction.
T urned around, adrift, wandering.
Staying Found in Italy
On our tour of Italy,
we went to each activity
Had our tour for the day.
And then they would say,
“Explore on your own.
Then find your way home.”
To me it was a recipe
to get lost in Italy.
For me this was wrong,
So I made friends and tagged along,
To avoid roaming in Rome,
Vanished in Venice,
Gone astray in Siena,
Offtrack in Florence,
Misplaced in Cinque Terre,
Bewildered in Balogna,
Absent in Assisi,
Nowhere to be found in Naples,
Confused in Capri,
Perplexed in Pompeii,
or Puzzled in Pisa.
To remain oriented in Italy
I had to use my ingenuity.
