Rhupunt

Vacation

We picked the spot

And planned a lot

We’ll take our shot

We’ll dance and dine

We’ll go by jet

The greatest yet.

Please, do not fret

We will be fine

Take to the skies

Joys to surprise

Oh, what a prize!

We cannot whine

Such sights to see

Just you and me

Feeling so free

It’s time to shine

cinquain

Scotland

Ancient castles

Bagpipes, tartans, shielings

Walking in my ancestors’ steps

Lis’ning

Bref Double

Globe-Trotting Family

We struggle making plans to get away.

The whos, the whats, the wheres, the whens, the cost

Ideas flourish like a clover field.

The emails fly between us thick and fast.

Two sisters and two nieces want to go.

All questions don’t get answered in a day.

The destination’s quickly settled on.

Ancestral lands call to us from the past.

The Emerald Isle and Scotland come in play.

We puzzle over timing and expense.

We dream of Moher Cliffs, the Buren Way.

And castles, loughs, and rivers all appeal.

Confusion over details might dismay.

But all will be content when plan is sealed.

Scotland

The Scottish Tingle

Pappap would get a wistful look in his eyes

when he’d talk about Scotland, as if the blood

of his Scottish ancestors tingled in his veins.

He’d attend concerts in Idlewild, a local park,

where they wore tartans and played bagpipes.

He’d close his eyes as if he remembered

the loughs, castles and stone shielings

though he’d never been there. And now

I’m thinking about going to Scotland. Must be

Pappap’s Scottish blood tingling through my veins.

feeling

The Way

Stumbling through the tangle of vines,

hoping to find the clear path of light.

It’s You. Jesus, regardless of where I’m at:

Jungle, forest, ocean, mountain, desert.

You are the way, the truth and the life.

PA sick

What is this cancer

Gobbling up our country?

Let Your love bring healing.

Poetic Asides Sick

Sick

S uffering physically

I ll and miserable

C oughing, sneezy, runny nose

K eep hopes up and the humidifier going