The smile that played on his lips.
The way he said her name.
I knew he was in love.
The smile that played on his lips.
The way he said her name.
I knew he was in love.
Past Loves
Our past loves are like
paints
on an artist’s palette.
Our inward beings
Our personalities
Painted by those young
loves.
The little boy that asked
me to color with him.
The young man who held my
books.
The neighbor boy who
changed from annoying
to hey not bad—the first
kiss.
The first long term
relationship
who was difficult to break
up with.
The love that just didn’t
seem to work out,
but was equally
significant.
All the short-term ones.
The purples, blues,
greens, yellows, oranges, reds
of my soul.
And that one that lasts
coming into half a century,
painting my soul with
various colors each day.
Johnstown Flood 1977
Johnstown, PA had three major
floods.
In 1977, I was spending the
summer
with my sister in
Cheyenne, Wyoming.
I heard about the flood on
the radio.
The only major event that
happened
in my small town in my
lifetime—
And I missed it, but there
were many
who wished that they had,
too.
Three Days After Christmas and Easter
We celebrated the birth of
Christ
in 1981, and three days
later
our daughter Lori was
born.
We took her home in a
Christmas stocking
that the hospital ladies
had made.
A tiny baby in a big, red
stocking.
We celebrated the
resurrection of Christ
in 1985, and three days
later
our son Eli was born, though
we didn’t
take him home in an Easter
basket.
That would have been a big
basket,
since he weighed 9 pounds,
3 ounces.
A Piece of Gum
Over fifty years ago,
my best friend’s worst
enemy
offered her a piece of
gum.
Of course, we were curious.
She attended a Bible
Study.
So my friend and I went.
The pastor explained
the difference between
religion
and a relationship with
God.
We invited Jesus in
and our lives changed
course.
Just an act of kindness.
The Best Life
The best life is not
When things always go
right
Not just being
healthy, wealthy and wise.
Or creating, learning
And having fun each day
When all is hunky-dory
Everything our way
It’s a matter of love
Loving God above all else
And loving others
As we love ourselves
And receiving their love
in return
Though it’s not something we
can earn
The Superstitions
Mountains in Arizona
Stories by Akimel O'odham
people
Mysterious sounds,
Disappearances and deaths
Now a treasured attraction
Hiking, biking, horseback
riding, water sports
160,000 acres to have a little fun
Unless you disappear or
die
I drive by it every time
I visit my daughter and
son.
I would stop, if I didn’t
have
a proclivity for getting lost.
Highway 666
Highway 666 ran through my
town.
Delinquents kept taking
the signs down.
The governor thought 666
bad luck.
But in our minds that
number stuck.
They changed the highway
to 491.
And I tell you that it is
no fun.
That number is bad luck to
me.
Because it doesn’t stay in
my memory.
In order for me to write
this poem.
I had to google the highway
that goes by my home.
Minimum Sleep
I refuse to get out of bed
before five.
I need enough sleep
to stay alive.
So when I’m wide awake
at three or four,
I’ll stay and pray
and rest some more.
Minimum Speed
I’m glad
there’s no minimum speed
on mountain roads.
When my big, old Caprice
chugged up Wolf Creek Pass,
like The Little Engine
that Could,
I’d tell the kids,
“Going forward is all that
matters!”
Spring
A robin perched on my back
fence.
When wind blows
Sky snows
Clouds loom gray
A minimum sign of spring
Encourages
Like a compliment on a bad
day.
Tell Jesus
He’s alive and well
You can talk to Him, you
know
His ears are attentive
Reception isn’t slow
Tell Him all about it
He won’t be surprised
He knows anyway
He’s forgiving and wise
If there’s something broken
He’s the one to heal
He can do anything
He is truly real
So tell it to Jesus
He wants to be your friend
And walk hand in hand with
you
Until your journey’s end
Tell Me a Story
I remember those days
When my daughter Lori
Went to bed and would say
Tell me a story
Of you and your sisters
And the rest of your
family
So I would stir up
All in my memory
Of all we played
In the trees and the hills
Of bicycle and sled rides
Of walking on stilts
Of walking in the rain
Or playing in the snow
Of summer vacations
To Delaware, we’d go
Of neighborhood kids
forming
The Sunflower band
Or trying to make money
At our lemonade stand
Or splashing in the creek
Since we didn’t have a
pool
And of all of the things
We did in our small school
Till amidst her stuffed
animals
She would fall asleep
Until the next night
And she would repeat
“Tell me a story.”
Tell Me If I Stink
One day my friend said,
“Tell me if I stink.”
Would I do that?
I had to stop and think.
She works on a farm
And shovels manure each
day.
She has a “poop mobile”
To haul it all away.
But I’m thankful
There wasn’t much to tell.
Because through the years,
I’ve lost my sense of
smell.
Mistake Vs. Betrayal
“Forgive me!”
he pleads to his wife,
“It was a mistake.”
A man doesn’t
accidently drop his pants
and sleep with another
woman.
There’s a difference
between a mistake
and betrayal.
And whatever happened
to the word,
“sin”?
My Pink Coat
We went to France the
month of May.
And on one clear thing, I did
dote.
Of my packing, I realized
I should have taken my
pink coat.
My pink coat’s warm and
waterproof.
Best all-weather! It wins
the vote.
I didn’t think I needed
it.
I should have taken my
pink coat.
We walked about in cold
and rain.
And soon, I sneezed and
had sore throat.
My “raincoat” wasn’t waterproof.
I should have taken my
pink coat.
And so, my sis heard me
complain.
So many times, that’s all
I wrote.
I wish a dime each time I
said,
“I should have taken my
pink coat!”
Soon, we’re going to Italy
And on my list, I will
take note.
Of all the things that I
will pack,
My number one, is my pink
coat.
Giving Old Ladies a Good Laugh
When I went to Iquitos, Peru,
on a mission trip,
I thought, after years
of Spanish classes, I’d be
able
to communicate fairly
well.
But one afternoon
as my roommate
and I were peeling potatoes
in the hot kitchen,
I asked about washing them.
I wondered why
the old ladies,
who we were helping,
looked up in the air
and started laughing.
It wasn’t until
I was back in my hotel
room
that I realized
that instead of using the
word
“lavar” to wash
I used the word “levantar”
to raise.
When God Sings
The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who
saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he
will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”
Zephaniah 3:17
If God spoke the world
into existence,
I can only imagine
what happens
when He sings.
Perhaps that’s what
happened
when Christ rose from the
dead.
The Oregon Trail
The song Happy Birthday
keeps running through my
head,
from the time I get up,
till the time I go to bed.
Our Nature Group “heads
west
on the Oregon Trail.”
They made up the words
and sing them so well.
To the Happy Birthday tune
with my uke, I play along,
as we sing out the words
of their made-up song.
We sing about picking up
buffalo chips for the fire,
eating beans and white
rice
and how of walking, they
tire.
Chasing butterflies,
Playing with their dog,
Running through the
prairie,
Jumping off a log.
When their wagon train
went down a steep hill,
one of their Conestogas
took a nasty spill.
So far there’s seven verses.
I’m sure there’ll be more,
by the time their shoebox
wagons
meet the Pacific shore.
A Diamante
Happiness
Joyful, Light
Dancing, singing, skipping
Gifts, Freedom, tears, loss
Crying, grieving, moaning
Painful, sorrowful
Sadness
A Place Called Happy
It’s okay to be sad
Take that trip
Down, down, down
Feeling the loss and the
pain
Just don’t stay there
There’s a place called
happy
That makes room for wounded
souls.
Happy
If you’re happy and you
know it
Clap your hands
Raise them up
Close your eyes
And be thankful.
And, maybe, do a little
jig.
Optimism
O utlook
P erception
T aking a peek at positive
possibilities
I magining dreams coming
true
M aking room for answered
prayer
I nterceding for the
Father’s will to be done
S tepping out in faith
M itigating fear and worry
There once was a lad named
Worry
Who lived in fear and
flurry
Optimism said, “Relax!”
Examine all the facts
No need for hurry scurry
On this Easter Morning
On this Easter morning, wake me up, I pray.
With bleary eyes, I’m trying to start my day.
I’m Your child, but I feel like a lump of clay.
Since You made Adam from
dust, I have hope still.
Mold me and form me,
according to Your will.
Breathe in me life, may the
Holy Spirit fill.
You’re still in the
business of raising the dead.
I’m encouraged by the
Scriptures I have read.
We did have death, but You
gave us life instead.
And as we celebrate the
day You arose,
We belong to You, from our
heads to our toes.
Your blood purchased us
from the enemy’s woes.
Holy Father, thanks for
the gift of Your Son.
“It is finished,” He had
said. So it is done.
Through His sacrifice, we
have already won.
And so, this Easter
Morning as we arise,
Through Jesus, we have
found favor in Your eyes,
And have eternal hope when
the body dies.
Open My Eyes
Open my eyes
To Your hand in my life
Open my ears
To Your voice
Open my hands
To give
And may my strength
Be used to work in Your honor
Let us walk hand in hand
May I feel Your arm around
my shoulders
Your pat on my back.
Your high five when I’m in
Your will
May I feel Your smile on
me
May I hear You singing over
me
May I know Your love and
affection
May I be about my Father’s
business
Rejoicing that You have a
purpose for my life.
Feuerwerk Houses
The small German town
of Feuerwerk houses,
with their strips of
design
on their outer walls,
like a page from a fairy
tale,
invite eager adventurers
up cobblestone streets,
through rounded arches,
further up and further in.
The German Castle
Tall and narrow, with minarets,
perched on rugged mountains
like a commanding princess
with her skirt of golden foliage
and a backdrop of more mountains
severely treeless, covered in ice,
topped with a creamy blue sky
with ocean-like waves of clouds.
Trip Prep
Planning a big trip
Takes time, money
And steady nerves
With many tasks
Overwhelm
Can suffocate
With World News
Bombs, Terrorists
Fear can paralyze
It helps to remember
All the other trips
That turned out fine
And to remember
That wonderful God
Is only a prayer away.
The sun was shining
in the blizzard today
Reminds me of the Holy Spirit
in times of trouble.
This Poem
This poem is shy
Doesn’t what to come out
Don’t even know
What this poem is about
So I’ll sit here
Wait till it shows its face
And I wonder
If it’s close to this place
It might be out
In a raging river
The thought of it
Makes me quake and shiver
Or way up high
It flies in a balloon
Someone, pop it
So it comes to me soon
Or it may be
Deep in a submarine
Maybe this poem
Will not ever be seen
Or it may be
Aboard a high-speed train
Or it could be
Out singing in the rain
Oh, here it is
Seven verses in all
Sometimes a poem
Is determined to stall
HisStory
The Word left Heaven, came to live on earth.
Taught, healed, lived and died as a sacrifice.
Those who believe are given a new birth.
Yes, for our sins the Lord has paid the price.
And when He rose again the rulers said,
“This looks bad for us all who condemned Him.”
They paid the guards to say He was still dead
and that His disciples had removed Him.
And still today, those who do not believe
design to change and rewrite His story.
And maybe this cruel message we’d receive,
if we did not taste His love and glory.
He’s still in the business to resurrect
the dead hearts of those who do not reject.