One More Week, UK

June 4, 2026

Practice Packing

 

One more week,

Getting ready to go.

Making my lists,

I should be a pro.

 

Knowing what I need.

Knowing what to pack.

It will be about a month

Until we are back.

 

So I practiced packing

To see what I must lose.

It turns out that it’s

The second pair of shoes.

 

I’ll have to repack

To make a little room.

Seven more days to go,

We’ll be leaving soon.

 

For we’re off to Scotland,

England and Wales.

We’ll be taking our pictures

And telling our tales.

 

First, aiming for Mesa

To see daughter and son.

They’ll take care of their dad,

While I have some fun,

 

Praying for my friend Lavon

And me as we fly,

For the Lord to calm nerves

And we’ll get there by and by.

 

My body is all achy.

I hope I’m not sick.

So I’ll take it easy.

Pray that’ll do the trick.

 

Take it easy?

Can that be done?

I’ve got a lot to do,

Then I’ll go have fun.

 

So we’ll get ready,

Pay our bills,

And check off the lists,

As the Lord wills.

 

So Lord, give me wisdom,

The next few days.

To maintain balance

In all my ways. 

 

Balance Poetic Asides

 

Cousins

 

Cousins can be the best of friends.

We did crazy things together.

 

One time, the one closest to me

in age and location, for some reason,

 took baths in our grandpa’s house.

I slipped and left a handprint on the wall.

We scrubbed all the tile around the tub

to get rid of the tattletale handprint.

 

One time, we found a large cardboard box

took it out to the hill in our yard

and tumbled for hours

feeling like clothes in a dryer.

 

One time, we spent the day

balancing on a log until we learned how to

to actually cross each other and make

it to the opposite ends.

 

Cousins can be the best of friends.

Burning Poetic Bloomings

 Give Me Oil in My Lamp

 

There was a song we sang as kids

that was a lot of fun.

Somehow we knew deep inside

we were singing of the One

to Whom we’d keep turning

“Give me oil in my lamp,

keep me burning.”

 

We’d sing it with enthusiasm

and it was no surprise

that we learned it was God

who provides and supplies.

“Give me gas in my Ford,

keep me trucking for the Lord.”

 

We learned as we sang

by giving Him our heart,

when things got tough

we wouldn’t fall apart.

“Give me umption in my gumption,

help me function, function, function.”

 

And to this day

I know he’s my oil, gas and umption

so I can function, function, function.

rules Poetic Asides

 

Testifying
 
However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace. Acts 20:24
 
Lord, what is my task?
Is it the same thing as the Apostle Paul’s?
Testifying to the good news of God’s grace?
 
I know it will look different than that of Paul.
I’m not sure I’m up for
the prisons, hardships, and severe testings.
 
May I testify of Your grace
in my writing, painting, singing, dancing,
my relationships and daily living.
 
Especially in my attitude, character, and prayer life.
It’s not about the dos and don’ts.
It’s about my relationship with You.

"ment" Poetic Bloomings

 

No Comment or Encouragement

 

I like the “likes” on all my posts,

Especially from our dear hosts.

We learned before we went to school,

It’s best to do the golden rule.

 

Some reason, though, that part I skip.

Though poems are great, I let it slip.

Return the favor would be cool

To always do the golden rule.

 

I read the poems with affection,

Some written to great perfection.

I know that I am such a fool

When I neglect the golden rule.

 

The comments, I appreciate,

And they will often make my day.

Encouragement is a good tool.

I’ll aim to do the golden rule.

Picture 3 Poetic Asides

 

Intensity

 

He’s kneeling in the dirt.

His white hair showing from his cap.

I know he’s in pain,

but there are children around him, watching.

He’s showing them how to play marbles,

like he did when he was a boy.

Picture 2 Poetic Asides

 

Daring

 

I remember in Montreal,

turning a corner,

my breath catching.

A building stood before me.

Yellowed walls

Nine stories

Forty-nine windows

Daring the modern buildings around it

to look as bold and wise and grand

as it did.