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WHAT DID YOU SAY?
Friday, April 22, 2011
Disagreeing, misunderstanding, misreading, not listening, not hearing, debating, squabbling, struggling, tussling, contending, altercating, opposing, disputing, fighting, combating, sparring, pounding and then...a slugfest, free-for-all, fisticuffs, and all out war!No matter how you look at it, it takes at least two.
No matter what, there are wounded.
No one comes unarmed.
Snide remarks, nicks, wounds form battle lines
ever waiting, at watch for the signal
and then...
New wounds, confusion, self-doubt, recriminations, mistrust, blood...
Such is life in the trenches of sinful humanity.
But there is ONE who can make a difference.
Drop the weapons. Kick them to the foot of the cross.
Look up.
He's the heart changer. He's our hope.
Look up.
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ROCK ME AMADEUS
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Broken hearted Bleeding hearted
Despairing, one can only cry
Rock Me Amadeus.
Hold me Love of God
Envelop me in Your compassion
Wells of acceptance
Where none else can be found.
Good Shepherd
Rock this lamb, this broken one
Hold me fast
Oh Love of God.
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INK ON THE SHEETS
March 16, 2011
In the pre-dawn hours
In that place that is no place
Thoughts streak through and intersect with dreams.
Words flow like fallen leaves
Racing toward the sea.
A pen and pad are there to record ideas
to store for future telling.
Without benefit of lamp or candleI grip the pen and let words fall.
No time for form, the scrawl will be decipherable at least.
I see the stars fall
in pieces like a jigsaw.
Behind the holes in the sky, more sky, but starless now.
The stars are captured on paper
And the ink runs onto the sheets till it runs over the edge and hits the floor.
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VICTORIA PARK SKATE
January 23, 2011
Skates in the trunk, we'd get bundled to go
Looking for mitts, to play in the snow.
The crisp smell of winter, the humid fresh air
Into the old car, to meet buddies there.
Down to the lake at Victoria Park
Oh how we loved to skate round in the dark.
From the central loud speaker the music would blare
Couples would skate arm in arm without care.
Mom wondering if I'd ever skate without falling.
Dad driven to teach in spite of my bawling.
An old wooden chair, with the seat long gone
Would be my balance till I could glide on my own.
Round and round the flagpole I'd go
Sometimes to stop I'd collapse in the snow.
Those quite daring would play crack the whip
Teens holding tightly, not willing to slip.
But me, a little one, chair gripped firm
Would shuffle along tenacious to learn.
Nose running, sweaty, to the boathouse we'd go
Hot chocolate in a paper cups, cheeks aglow.
Back to the car, energy waning
But regarding the skating, there'd be no complaining.
Next night at supper, our nagging would start,
Please, please, please can we go back to the Park?
Looking for mitts, to play in the snow.
The crisp smell of winter, the humid fresh air
Into the old car, to meet buddies there.
Down to the lake at Victoria Park
Oh how we loved to skate round in the dark.
From the central loud speaker the music would blare
Couples would skate arm in arm without care.
Mom wondering if I'd ever skate without falling.
Dad driven to teach in spite of my bawling.
An old wooden chair, with the seat long gone
Would be my balance till I could glide on my own.
Round and round the flagpole I'd go
Sometimes to stop I'd collapse in the snow.
Those quite daring would play crack the whip
Teens holding tightly, not willing to slip.
But me, a little one, chair gripped firm
Would shuffle along tenacious to learn.
Nose running, sweaty, to the boathouse we'd go
Hot chocolate in a paper cups, cheeks aglow.
Back to the car, energy waning
But regarding the skating, there'd be no complaining.
Next night at supper, our nagging would start,
Please, please, please can we go back to the Park?
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KEY RIVER REMEMBERED
December 4, 2010
For months on end I've envisioned a boat time
Sunlicked, bare-armed, leaning on gunnels dreamed.
Bleak imaginings not once could enter my mind
As weedbeds and riverholes by me streamed.
Fantasies of sleepy bass, pickerel and black green pike
In lily beds, creakfaces, searching from far below
Hiding and peering, remain for lure surface strike
Baitwaiting, concealed in the dark, streamlined flow.
But daydark is long, so long this month December
Sweeping white billows, flakes, piles belie summer ever.
Mind's eye returns to north Key River remembered
The sun, the waves, the breezes, the soul's endeavor.
For soon skies will change, bright green to emerge
Hungry fish to find within full leafy spurge.
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FINDING THE AHHHH
December 3, 2010
Yesterday I fled to the shopping mall
I parked at the back against the wall.
My hat blew off, I tripped and fell.
My arm was bleeding and started to swell.
But I had gifts to buy and wrap
I had fallen into the purchasing trap.
Will I get the gifts I could afford?
I am so stressed, please help me Lord.
Wait – is this what Christmas is about?
Squeals and deals and getting burned out?
Forgive me Lord for forgetting today
That your love is what I need to display.
Not gifts, nor treats nor a perfect house
Not foods to delight my guests and spouse!
But a gentle, peaceful, joyful face
That shows your love and sweetness and grace!
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GRANDMA ANNIE
October 23, 2010
The silk lilies sit in the crystal vase, worn and dusty
They observe...
She shuffles in, aproned, with stockings rolled down like ankle doughnuts
To sit in her favourite place beside the good light
Where threads lie ready.
Grasping needle and white strands, calloused fingers
Guide to form designs.
Stacks of cross-stitched patches grow and wait.
No patterns to follow, she deftly weaves the needle's course.
Eyes, deeply wrinkled, still brightSmile at filament motif - ideas tried and true.
Cobalt blue today, white tracks move along
Till all corners join together as one.
The quilt is ready. Soon to grace a
Granddaughter's room.
Only the warmth a Grandmother can bring.
Mine an expert maker of love blankets.
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HIS PLACE
September 10, 2010
There are those days
when a throng of thoughts niggle away at a heart,
lists of lists
when no solutions are easy and rest seems remote
And there are those days when peace surrounds and lifts
when calm breaks forth on a biting sea
and life touches down
How to reach that peace during times
When minutes streak like fireworks
when time flashes instead of passes
Only the Prince of Peace can calm the soul significantly -
Only the Good Shepherd can hold me in his arms
and rock away the driven ness
when a throng of thoughts niggle away at a heart,
lists of lists
when no solutions are easy and rest seems remote
And there are those days when peace surrounds and lifts
when calm breaks forth on a biting sea
and life touches down
How to reach that peace during times
When minutes streak like fireworks
when time flashes instead of passes
Only the Prince of Peace can calm the soul significantly -
Only the Good Shepherd can hold me in his arms
and rock away the driven ness
Today the choice is made
His eyes behold me,
His arms encircle me...
It is well with my soul.
His eyes behold me,
His arms encircle me...
It is well with my soul.
