Motivation
I never minded being quiet,
observing, listening,
learning.
But I hated being shy.
Fear prevented me from
doing
the things I wanted to do:
sharing, singing, speaking,
playing sports, performing,
teaching, interacting with
others.
I still go in and out
of that proverbial shell
like some kind of hermit
crab.
Desire to be a life participant
rather than a spectator
motivates me to come out
of hiding.
Introverts tend to write
Then we are asked to speak
And so we fake it till we
make it
An Odd Pairing
It took me a while
To realize this but
My husband
The life of the party
Loud
In front of the crowd
Hurricane in motion
Booming out his songs
Playing his bass guitar
Preferred to get away
Play solitaire, pray
Read his Bible
Spend a quiet evening at
home
He is an extroverted
introvert.
At church I was known
As the bass player’s wife
Never said anything.
Always listening.
Often overlooked.
But preferring to be with
people
Active and laughing with
friends
Enjoying life with a
partner
Traveling, hiking, exploring.
Eating out
I’m an introverted
extrovert.
We’ve mellowed out over
the years.
He has become more
introverted,
I have become more
extroverted.
Maybe not so odd of a
pairing.
Even Steven
Christmas time at my mother-in-law’s,
we’d find an odd amount of
loose change
in our Christmas stockings.
Not one to play favorites,
she made sure
she spent the exact same amount
on each of her family
members.
If she paid a little less
for your gift,
she’d add the necessary
change
to make it even.
We thought it overboard,
but we knew
we were equally loved.
I Do As Is
Don’t try to customize
your spouse
Accept the package all as
is
There may be things that
you don’t like
But focus on the ones you
do
If you are prone to rant
and rave
Don’t try to customize
your spouse
Just state your case so
lovingly
Perhaps served with a
slice of pie
Look deep within at your
own self
What changes can you make in
you
Don’t try to customize
your spouse
Your task at hand is hard
enough
Look for those things to
thank them for
Be slow to wrath, quick to
forgive
And grow together over
time
Don’t try to customize
your spouse
Light
Light comforts
Dissipates darkness
Shows the way
Offers hope
Allows us to see clearly
Jesus-light of the world
Cycle
C an feel like a hamster on
a wheel
Y ou can get off the wheel,
at times
C hange things up from day
to day
L et the schedule take a
back seat, but
E ven change can get
monotonous.
Forward, down, back, up, forward, down
Covering ground
Wind in my hair
From here to there
Forward, down, back, up,
forward, down
Fly through the town
Up and down hills
Exciting thrills
Forward, down, back, up, forward,
down
Feet speed around
Feeling the cheer
From there to here
Rapid Cycler
I remember the days
when hubby’s bipolar moods
swung so rapidly up and
down,
that I couldn’t remember,
when he walked back into a
room,
if he had been up or down
when he left.
I never knew which person I
would greet,
the up one, the down one
or someone in the middle.
Thankfully the
psychiatrist was right
and he has mellowed out over
the years.
Not Doing Unto Others
How many times
do I refresh the page
eager to see if my poems
touched other poets?
Yet, I rarely take time
to comment on theirs.
Yikes!
I hope I can do better.
A Praise Walk
Walking
Talking with God
Praising the Creator
Of mountains, oceans, forests,
plains
Prayer refreshes
My soul
Refreshing
A good night’s sleep
An afternoon nap
Playing with Pup
Petting a cat
Tea with sugar and cream
A pick-me-up snack
Looking at pictures
Getting ready to pack
Worshipping God
Counting ways He cares
Reading the Psalms
Beginning with prayers
A walk in the woods
A walk in the park
A swim in the lake
Music in the dark
Dancing in the rain
Reading a good book
Writing a poem
Playing my uke
Laughing with friends
Riding a bike
Listing all of the things
That I like
Smile
I love it when animals look
like they’re smiling
Maybe they are and maybe they
are not
Quokkas, chimps and sloths
are so beguiling
I love it when animals
look like they’re smiling
Wearing sunglasses, they’d
be styling
Perhaps a hat, as an after
thought
I love it when animals look
like they’re smiling
Maybe they are and maybe they
are not
Foxy Loxy
We drove up to
our cute Airbnb.
My sis and I
went to London in May.
We had just cruised
the Thames near the North Sea.
We had sailed,
dined and laughed the night away.
When we drove
up, we knew not what to say.
There stood a
little, red fox at our gate.
Didn’t know
what to do, but hesitate.
It watched us
warily as we went through.
We were
cautious, too, arriving so late.
It was
disappointed. We had no food.
Baby Juanito
I fell in love.
Your sleek, black and beige coat
Your cute little button nose
Your friendly smile
The way you hugged me
Like a little child would.
Your claws that made you an expert climber
Your low metabolism that sloths are famous
for
I wish sloths made good pets.
They prefer to hang in trees alone
And they use their sharp teeth and great strength,
to stay that way.
Pre-winter Walks
November sunshine
Aspens and tall pine
Last leaves tremble on the
branch
Wind arrives with bite
Growing cold at night
Snow will come soon on the
ranch
Nice day for a walk
Friends enjoy the talk
Crisp air, puffy clouds,
blue skies
A thing walkers know
Less fun—ice and snow
Enjoying sun now proves wise
Sawdust Pottery
Making pottery from
sawdust
is quite a trick when eleven
children
and a hot plate are involved.
Divide the kids into three
groups.
Keep those little hands
busy
measuring, dumping, stirring.
Put plastic into paper
bowls.
Mold shape, pat, pat, pat.
Set the bowls out and pray
that the masterpieces will
harden.
Then, after Thanksgiving break,
hopefully, paint the
sawdust bowls.
Love
L oving God and
loving
O thers allows
a life of
V ibrancy and
joy
E ach and every
day
Dad, You Didn’t Have to Say, “I love you.”
I knew, by the way
you worked hard in the steel mill
and in the
garden to put food on the table.
By the way you let
me sit on your lap
and showed you
how I could count to 100.
By the way you
read me stories in your monotone.
By the way you
taught me how to fish.
But the way you
teased me by doing things
like putting
orange peelings between my toes.
By the way you
hollered
when I was
doing something wrong.
By the way you
put up with my teasing you
about being
bald or grumpy.
By the way you
wore a pained expression
when I broke up
with my first serious boyfriend.
By the way you
walked me down the aisle
even after a
recent surgery.
By the way you
cried
when we had to
return home from a visit.
You never said
the words,
but you didn’t
have to.
Luck
L et Your luck be good
U nder the watchful eyes of
God
C reate Your own good luck
by
K eeping in His will and
blessing
The Luck of the Irish
Poets
Irish poets need luck
because
they pause, at the many
rules.
Feeling like fools, as
words
become like tangled yarn.
And I give up on the
Seadna.
This Poem is for You
This poem is for who?
I don’t know.
I’ll tap away here on the
keys
and see what comes out.
It could be for all the
people
who have loved me and I’ve
loved.
My parents, sisters,
relatives,
friends, (near and far), God
It could be for all the
people
I share my poetry with.
Poeming together,
we’re a family in a way.
It could be for all the
pets I’ve had,
though they’d never read a
poem:
Lady, Smokey, Snickers, Jordy,
Duppy,
Peanuts, Newton, Amber, Sam,
Fluffy.
This poem could be for the
places I’ve visited
all fifty states, Scotland,
Ireland, France,
England, Wales, Northern
Ireland, Canada,
Turks and Caicos, Puerto
Rico, Peru, Kenya
Maybe this poem’s just for
me.
Rocks, Rivers and Trees
Rocks, rivers
and trees
Some of my
favorite things
Sitting on a
rock by a river
in a shady
forest—
that’s my happy
place.
Rocks, trees
and a river running through.
They remind me
of You.
The Father, the
rock
Jesus, the tree
of life
Holy Spirit,
the river running through
Rock, rivers and
trees
Some of my
favorite things.
Odd Man Out
She gets an odd feeling
when she’s in a crowd
Like she’s the odd man out
even with friends
She is so quiet while
others are loud
She gets an odd feeling
when she’s in a crowd
Like she’s walking in a
fog or a cloud
Sometimes she can manage,
it all depends
She gets an odd feeling
when she’s in a crowd
Like she’s the odd man out
even with friends
Odd Socks
My friend and I kind of
raised our kids together.
They went back and forth
between our houses,
often staying the night.
Every once in a while
we’d get together
with our odd socks
and we’d usually
match up several pairs.
Since she died,
I sometimes feel
like one of those odd
socks,
missing a mate.
McGinnis
Crazy hair
Crazy laugh
Crazy for girls
Too crazy for me
Always in trouble
I dated your best friend
But you made me laugh.
