All My Days
There’s steady ringing in my ears
I’ve been on this earth for years
But surely, it is not my home
While I’m here I like to roam
But some day I will be up there
Living fine without a care
With no more ringing in my ears
Just praises ringing and my cheers
To my glorious God and king
I’ll have all eternity to sing
And dance before Him and praise
So here I’ll worship all my days
Winning the Race
I can’t remember the last time
I hurried anywhere.
Since Hubby and I retired,
I plan my schedule out.
About anything I put on my to-do list,
if it doesn’t get done today,
can be turned over to tomorrow.
We aim to be early at our few appointments.
I putt, putt along like an old truck.
It’s nice not to hurry.
The tortoise and I are buddies.
“Slow and steady wins the race.”
How to Write
a Poem with Neither Time or Inspiration
Start with
what’s around you
to the
right (on an end table):
headphones
with travel bag,
glasses
cleaner and cloth,
an
insurance book you’ll never read,
a title
of a book you want to read,
the number
for the ER your son was in,
an empty
place for your computer,
(on the
floor) your ukulele in a black case,
a friend’s
wire trash can you didn’t want
that you
traded for one you had wanted to keep.
To your
left (on and end table),
a half
glass of water,
cold tea
in a big Scrabble mug,
a
children’s novel in verse
like you
want to write someday,
a Kindle
containing many books,
a hymn
book, a Bible reading chart,
a
Barnabas Aid newsletter,
a
catalog for college courses,
a study
on Ruth with a promise
to do
the lesson before Tuesday.
a cell
phone in a well-used cover.
So much can
be said
with what
you have around you.
February
22, 1973
A skinny
pastor came to town
And
taught about the Lord.
He spoke
of Jesus and His love
As one
to be adored.
My
friend and I, we bowed our heads
And
asked Lord Jesus in.
We vowed
to live each day for Him.
He took
away our sin.
These
fifty years, we’ve known the Lord,
With bumps
along the way.
We found
that He’s a faithful God
And
hears us when we pray.
The
skinny pastor has passed on
And we
are growing old.
Yes, we
will see him once again
And walk
on streets of gold.
Hidden
My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face!’ Your
face, Lord, I will seek.
Psalm 27:8
Sometimes I wonder where He is
When trials and troubles come
I cry out, wondering if He hears
But He’s not deaf and dumb!
He hides Himself so I will seek
Find hope in the pursuit
And when
the search is at its peak
His love
is at the root
I have
to seek so I can find
The joy
He has in store
And when
He hides some further in
I will
pursue Him more
And then
I learn He’s always there
It’s me
that’s deaf and dumb
And then
I hear His still small voice
That
lovingly says, “Come!”
And so I
see, it’s me who hides
He waits
for me to come
I stand
here open in His sight
And will
no longer run
A Question
I don’t know
why
my oldest
sister said it,
what I did
at about eight years old
or what the
situation was.
But she said it.
“Where is your
common sense?”
Ever after, those
words haunted me
and I felt I
was destined
to bumble
through life
while my common
sense
had hidden itself
or packed up and
went on vacation.
Perhaps that’s why
I’m so hard on
myself
when I do dumb
things.
But I’m
learning
that, like my
writing muse,
common sense
comes and goes.
It’s part of
the human condition.
New Normal
Having a
nightmare I wish I’d wake up from
Memory loss of
my thirty-seven-year-old son
Phone calls,
emails and texts all day long
And no one is
able to tell us what’s wrong
He’s home now,
new normal: Day One
His mind’s a
bit clearer all the day through.
He remembers it’s
January, he lost his job, too
He repeats
himself and asks the same questions
He guides his
day by his sister’s suggestions
One day at a
time, new normal: Day Two
When he wakes
up it’s not clear to see
He has to sort dreams
from reality
Sis set an
appointment for his doctor
She’s strong
and not letting this rock her
Moving forward,
new normal: Day Three
My son woke up
Sunday morning with about three months of memory loss and spent the morning in
ER. When the prompt was “forgetful” I couldn’t think of anything else to write
about! My son and daughter are both single and live together in my daughter’s
house about an eight-hours drive from me. We just had a foot of snow so we’re
exchanging a lot of phone calls and texts, working through this. There’s no
official diagnosis yet.
