Poor Robins
The robins came and they’re
confused.
They hop about and search for
worms.
With frozen worms, they feel
abused—
First day of spring in winter’s
terms.
At piles of snow, not one’s
amused.
They miss the worm that writhes
and squirms.
Poor robins wish that they
stayed south.
Like them, I feel down in the
mouth.
Naughty or Nice
I make
my to-do list
and, like
Santa Claus,
check it
twice.
Will I
be naughty or nice?
Faithfully
checking off accomplishments
or squeezing
in cell phone games,
jigsaw puzzles
and novel reading.
Maybe
not so naughty.
Being nice
to myself
in those
stolen moments
contributes unseen benefits
in body, soul and mind.
New
Adventures
I
walked into the library.
The
first time since 2020.
It
seemed bigger.
I
think they knocked a wall out.
Or
maybe it’s the way they arranged it.
Once
what was familiar,
stretched
out as unfamiliar territory.
I
stepped forward
like
disembarking the plane in Kenya,
looking
forward to new adventures.
My
Heart is His
(A
Rondelet)
My
heart’s Godward
It
reaches up to His embrace
My
heart’s Godward
To
know Him from His Holy Word
Just
to catch a glimpse of His face
Searching
for that comforting place
My
heart’s Godward
Pretty
Posies
Pretty
posies looking lost
Amongst
amber stepping stones
No one
noticed, count the cost
Seeds
settled and left alone
Proudly
portray joy in pain
People pass
by on the path
Get a
glimpse that with the rain
We can
learn to live and laugh
A
Helpful Push
A fair
to midland day at last,
Between
the storms of snow.
Invited
to friend’s mountain home,
That day,
is where I’d go.
I hadn’t
seen her for a while.
We walked
on her plowed drive.
For snow
was high, four feet or so.
Temp
dropped to twenty-five.
I saw
her winter wonderland,
And
smiled and said good bye.
I’d head
downhill to my town home
Where
snow was not that high.
With
snow shoes on she walked her dog.
I headed
out the lane.
I nearly
made it to the road,
But ice
was quite insane.
And
there I sat until she came
And gave
a little push.
The car
was stubborn, stayed stuck there.
It
wasn’t in a rush.
So she
called friends to get some help.
Then I
was on my way.
I
thanked them all for the push out.
Now,
home is where I’ll stay.
Not a
Movie Scene
Strange feelings
nestled in my belly
as I
took in the view
of the
busy street
with the
usual cars, vans, busses
plus old
and tiny cars,
bicycle taxis—
customer
clinging to the driver.
Tall
trellises filled with greenery
to make up
for loss to concrete.
People
scurrying here to there,
not unusual
in a city
but the
number of them!
And
peddler after peddler
accosting
vehicles
selling their
wares: thrift-store stuff
or items
from a discount store,
and bunches
of bananas and
bundles of
taro root.
I watched
through a window
like a
TV screen,
but this
was Nairobi life,
not a
movie scene.
