Haiku

 

Like a lone balloon

Keep me from drifting away

Tethered to Jesus

special day Poetic Asides

 A Special Day

 

Whether it be to go to Maine

to spend time with my daughter.

Or to Seattle to board a cruise ship

to cruise Alaska with three others.

Or to go to Hawaii to celebrate

graduating from college at 59.

Or to North Carolina to spend time

with fellow poemers.

Or to Florida to cruise the Caribbean

with a bunch of writers.

Or to Scotland to celebrate retirement.

Or to St. Augustine to spend

two weeks at the beach with Sis.

Or to Kenya to go on safari

to see elephants, giraffes, zebras.

Or to Peru to help in VBS

in the sweltering heat with missions.

Or to France with Sis to see the sites

in Paris, London, Wales, and Ireland

and think of Uncle Bill dying in WWII,

and to make wishes in Wales

and to visit my niece in Northern Ireland.

Or to Germany this July.

Or to Italy this September.

The day I board a plane

is always a special day.  

July 24, trip

 July 24

We’ll drive and drive and drive

That’s what we’d tell the kids

Today, in 8 hours we’ll arrive

We’ll drive and drive and drive

Home at last! Where we thrive.

Propping open my eyelids

We’ll drive and drive and drive

That’s what we’d tell the kids

Haiku

 

In life’s up and downs

You’re a constant and holy rock

I depend on You

Building Relationships Poetic Bloomings

 Show Affection

 

Every moment,

you have the chance

to dig a well of sweet water

in your relationship

by resolving

to show respect

and appreciation for each other

in the little things you do and say.

 

A flower.

A gift.

A compliment.

A favor.

A hug.

A smile.

Makes life more enjoyable

for both.

Father's Day Poem Revision

 

A Child’s First Superhero

 

May each child’s first superhero be their dad.

May he be strong and kind and live to help his own.

May his goofy jokes cheer them when their sad.

May they always be glad when Dad comes home.

May he lead them to the feet of the Lord’s throne.

May Dad’s very presence serve to calm their fears.

And though he hurts, may they seldom see his tears.

May he pray for them that God will open every door.

And may he become more super through the years.

And though he cannot fly, may his spirit soar.

                                                     

Discarded, Poetic Asides

 Waste Not, Want Not

 

My mother-in-law lived into her eighties,

primarily by walking sixteen blocks each day.

From the depression era,

she never threw anything usable away.

 

Walking by the neighborhood dumpsters,

she’d spy perfectly good items, shamefully wasted.

She began the habit of taking along a plastic bag,

dumpster diving, as her sons called it.

 

With her stocking cap, old clothes and bag,

she looked like a homeless person.

In reality, she had a nice home and savings.

She’d stash her treasures in the basement.

 

After she passed, her boys hauled off truckloads

to the dump, truly and finally, trashing them.