Problem PAD 13

 

Giving God Our Problems

(2 Kings 1:16, I Peter 5:7)

 

At times, we may think,

big or small,

we don’t want to bother God

with our problems.

 

Maybe He’s so busy

with the entire world

that He doesn’t care

about little ‘ol us.

 

But we don’t realize

that it bothers Him more

when we don’t commit

our problems to Him.

 

It shows our lack of faith,

not trusting that He loves us,

which He had proved

by sending His Son

 

To bridge the gap

between us and Him,

paying sin’s penalty

on the torturous cross.

 

So I aim to lay my problems

at His nail-scarred feet

and trust that He will help me

work them out in His time.

 

 

Set PAD 12

 

Jitters

 

I’m getting all set to read a poem at church. Fighting feelings similar to what I had in high school giving an oral report, when I prayed that my constitution would fail me and I’d pass out in front of everyone, but no, I was too healthy. No, it’s not that bad, as a senior citizen, standing in front of a loving congregation. I just need to convince myself that my words are worthy to read as an act of worship to a wonderful God, that they’re not just a bunch of fluff, and that God is in them and able to speak to the listeners. After all, He did use a donkey to convince Balaam not to curse Israel, He can surely use my poem.

 

Fighting the jitters

Setting my mind on the Lord

Ahhh, He brings sweet peace!

Home PAD 11

 

The Irony of My Home

 

Some may wonder

if my home is so special

why I want to leave it

and wander the world.

 

Funny thing.

Home is more home to me

featuring ornaments, paintings

and photos from faraway places.

mini PAD 10-3

 

A silver road

Curved through the golden forest

Beckoning me to come along

Mini PAD 10-2

 

The trees dressed in white lace

Danced with their partners

Reflected in the lacy lake

mini PAD 10

 

Frothy ocean edge

Wriggling snake-like on the sand

Tickling our bare toes

Blank but blank PAD 9

 

Adventurous But Cautions

 

I approach adventures thinking

the guides don’t want me to die

any more than I do.

I need to be relatively assured

that though I may be testing my limits

that it won’t be my last hurrah.

I depend on someone

who knows what they’re doing,

rather than my own skills.

And with a prayer

I take the leap,

brave the waves,

explore the depths

climb the heights

hike the trails

and be thankful

when things go well,

and I have a blast,

stretch and grow

and am ready

for another challenge.

paranoid PAD 8

 

Askew

 

So many things on which to stew.

There’s much today to misconstrue.

Perspectives tilt slightly askew.

I often feel a bit annoyed

With folks that are so paranoid.

I guess it’s how they fill the void.

They need someone like Dr. Freud.

By fearmongers they are employed.

They’re sounding like a bad tabloid.

Looks like they’re ones I should avoid,

But that may show their fears are true.

I’ll pray for them, that’s what I’ll do.

And leave them to their point of view.

dawn PAD7

 

Dawn

 

Dark and quiet

Tap, tap, tap

Laptop keys

Upon my lap

 

Look for words

That paint and rhyme.

This is how

I spend my time.

 

Early morning

Wake up call.

Winter, spring,

Summer, fall.

 

Darkness waits

For the sun.

What’s today?

A lot of fun?

 

Maybe so.

To work I go.

water PAD 6

 

We Pray for Rain

 

In the southwest, there’s little rain.

Blue skies and pleasant days refrain,

But when it rains, we don’t complain,

Without a doubt.

In summer, when the fires reign,  

It puts them out.

Safety PAD 5

 

Ropes Course

 

I was glad

for the training

and for being strung up

like a marionette

when the rope

I walked on

swayed uncontrollably,

throwing me off,

and I dangled

among green pines

thirty feet above

the forest floor.

Prayer is like that,

a tether to the unmovable

so when you slip

you don’t slam

to the ground.

Friends PAD 4

 

Friends Indeed

 

At times,

Friendships

Are born from need

 

The hen

That gets pecked to bleeding

By other hens

 

The puzzle piece

That seems to belong

To another puzzle

 

The wounded

Requiring crutches,

Bandages or surgery

 

The towel

That’s been through the ringer

Who needs sunshine and fluffing up

 

The summer storm

Blowing through

Searching for calm

 

The raging river friend

who sucks you in

to all of their busyness

 

Then there are friends

Who only bring a smile

The ones you aspire to be

 

They’re all friends.

But the latter—lilac fragrance

on a spring breeze

 

 

 

open PAD 3

 

In celebration

We give praise and thanksgiving

For an open tomb

For Regina's birthday

 

Regina

 

Reaching out with a smile

Even going the extra mile

Grace flowing thru generations

Interceding for the nations

Now and always, a true friend

And on her kindness, we depend.

Express PAD 2

 Of Expressions and Hearing

 

A favorite time of the nature program,

for children and teachers alike—

sharing at the morning circle

the highlights of the week,

or maybe even lowlights.

 

We hear about awards,

baseball, wrestling, gymnastics.

We hear about accidents,

falling out of trees, scraped knees.

We hear about vacations and visits.

Play dates among friends.

Pet news of cats, dogs, rabbits,

horses and even one special turkey

that, like a dog, insists on being petted.

 

But I don’t always hear what’s going on.

My hearing aids aren’t doing the job.

Just one little reason of many little reasons

why this third year of the nature program

will be my last one.

It’s hard to express what I’m feeling—

Restlessness, frustration, sadness, 

wariness, relief, peace, excitement.

Yes! Excitement for a new life chapter.

seed PAD 1

 

Words:

particularly potent seeds

when planted

in the fertile ground

of young minds.

Who I Am, Poetic Bloomings

 Of Lava Lights and Jigsaw Puzzles

 

At times I feel

like a blob in a lava light,

constantly shifting and changing shapes,

bumping into glass walls

and other blobs.

 

At times I feel

like a 2,000-piece jigsaw puzzle,

no, not just one,

several dumped out into one big pile

and I’m still trying to sort myself out.

 

At times I feel

like a treasured child of God

and when I feel like a blob or a jigsaw puzzle,

He reassures me that He is the light

and He puts me together one piece at a time.

Spring, Poetic Asides

 

Spring 2026

 

Winter has been lazy

in southwest Colorado.

Snow appeared on mountain peaks,

but content to stay up there.

In lower elevations,

we haven’t even had to shovel drives.

What snow we had melted by noon.

 

Now, trees and bushes are greening up early.

The sun’s shining us into the 70s and 80s.

Spring flowers are making their debut.

But I expect at least one last winter blast

will cause robins, tulips and daffodils

to shiver where they stand.

But for now, I’ll welcome this early guest.

Let's Blank, Poetic Asides, Canada 14

 

Let’s Stay Put

 

Even though I like to be on the move,

Let’s stay put in our homes at least till June.

Let us play catch up on housework and such,

Though May is such a good traveling month.

Let’s remember why we live in our homes,

Before we take time to wander and roam.

Let’s breathe in fresh air at entrance of spring,

And stay here until we’re back in routine.

So I’ll stay put, my resolve will not slip

Unless you convince me of a spring trip.

Landmark, Poetic Bloomings, Canada 13

 

The Sleeping Ute

 

Toronto with its new sky scrapers

mixed with old buildings and CN tower,

Niagara Falls shrouded in mist and fog,

Montreal, lovely park with city overlook,

Quebec City, a slice of France

with cobble stone streets, quaint shops

and leftover Christmas decorations.

 

Then fly over Colorado mountain ridges.

When I see the Sleeping Ute,

the mountain they say

is a wounded warrior

arms across his chest,

feather at his head,

and even his knees and toes,

then I’ll know I’m home.

More to the Story, Poetic Bloomings, Canada 12

 Maybe There’s More to the Story

 

There was nothing I could do.

Rules are rules.

The retirement-age lady stared at me with icy eyes,

“You can’t give me MY suitcase?”

“I work for American,” I explained,

“You fly with United.

“A United worker should come by soon.”

 

The lady breathed out her frustration

and stormed off.

How rude and quick tempered, I thought.

I had met all kinds

Working at this small Durango, Colorado airport

these twenty-some years.

But maybe there’s more to the story.

 

Maybe two days earlier she started in Quebec City

when there was an ice storm.

Maybe she sat on the plane with her traveling companion

for hours as workers tried to de-ice the plane.

Maybe they taxied to the runway,

but the pilot waited out reported turbulence,

then the plane needed de-iced again.

Maybe it was too windy for the sprayer,

so the flight was cancelled.

 

Maybe she and her traveling partner

dished out money for a taxi and hotel.

Maybe they had to get up at three AM

and then stand in a long line at the airport.

Then maybe they made it through security

and waited some more

as the second plane was delayed,

as authorities decided

if it was safe enough to fly in the blizzard.

 

And then, maybe they finally made it to Newark

where she and her traveling partner went their own ways.

And maybe this lady went through the long process

of rechecking her bag, going through customs,

taking the sky train to the right terminal,

and taking a shuttle to the right place in the terminal.

Maybe by the time she got there she missed her flight to Denver

and was told she’d have to wait till six AM to get the next flight out.

 

Maybe she wandered around for hours, passing the time,

eating, dozing off and in her wandering

learned another plane was leaving for Denver in the evening.

Maybe with a prayer and fingers crossed,

 she signed up for standby.

Then maybe she got on the plane and it was delayed again.

Maybe there was bad turbulence a good part of the flight,

bouncing up and down like an old pickup on a dirt road.

Maybe by the time she made it to Denver,

she missed the plane to Durango.

Maybe the next available flight wasn’t till three PM the next day.

Maybe she got on standby again for the eight AM flight.

 

Maybe she tried to sleep all night

on a small couch in the Denver airport

next to a moving sidewalk that went clackety clack,

with the loud speaker blaring reminding people

to watch their luggage and not accept anyone’s else’s,

and the janitorial staff operating their noisy equipment.

Maybe the lights were bright and the air was cold.

 

Maybe she got up early, hoping and praying

she’d make the flight to Durango at eight AM.

 Maybe her blood pressure meds had run out

and she was feeling headachy.

Maybe she did make it on the flight

and by the time she got to me,

she had one more hour to drive 

over the mountain to the next town

to make it home.

 

Maybe when I couldn’t give her luggage,

it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

When the United personnel finally came

maybe the traveler tried to apologize

as she explained she’d been trying to get home

for over fifty hours.

 

Maybe she made it home okay,

happily reunited with her husband,

had a good meal,

and took a nap.

Maybe her behavior

was understandable.