octet to sing on open road

Based on my boys’ favorite childhood video version (1995 British animated film with Vanessa Redgrave as narrator) of the classic children’s novel by Kenneth Grahame (published 1908).  See octet/octave form at  d’Verse Poets…

if bored by camping under stars,
Wind in the Willows’ Mister Toad
drove gypsy carts and motor cars
at fast speeds down the open road.
with “poop, poop”, Toad did so obsess
his true friends Rat and Mole did fear
that of his life he’d make a mess—
a car thief rap he could not clear.

to dungeon deep, the judge sent Toad
for ten long years, to sob and rot;
escaping with the laundry’s load,
sly “out of jail to freedom” plot.
Toad, reunited with his friends,
returned to reclaim old Toad Hall
swords in paw, rout weasels’ den;
grand speech for celebration ball.

illustration by E.H. Shephard (wikipedia)

illustration by E.H. Shephard (wikipedia)


enduring enigma

two beings, alike yet
opposite, attracted
like magnets (even
at times, repulsed)
will dare commit to
co-join in covenant
for a lifetime…how?

puzzling pieces fit,
monogamy wasn’t
meant as monotony.
God’s created design
established in Eden
cannot be denied,
ignored or forgotten.

patterned after Him,
the self-sacrifice is
worth it, revealing
true love is faithful,
life can be renewed,
and His eternal love-
stronger than death.


I  wrote this poem (unknowingly) the same afternoon my son asked his sweetheart to marry him, so I joyfully dedicate it to Lorn & Jessica!

 

young leaves

Link to CDHK Time Glass challenge…

young leaves with dew

fresh dew on new blades

soaking in clean sweet wetness

life’s spring is greener

open letter to my son(s)

Dearest Son,

you will find in
this sad world
people who live
aimlessly and by
default become

surprisingly foolish
selfishly apathetic
faithlessly perverse
dishonestly lazy
bitterly violent

but you, quiet your heart
consider your footsteps
hold fast to the truth
choose to be different
be blessed by joy

shine!

all my love & prayers,
Mom

” I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.”

( I John 1:4 )

something to cluck about

TweetSpeak Poetry celebrates April as National Poultry (Poetry) Month!

I think that I will never see a thing as
lovely as a turkey (struttin’ his stuffin’)

Writing poultry means lots of scratching
and requires a bit of gravel in the gizzard.

Why did the chicken cross the road?
She wanted to be poultry in motion.

Fine feathered friends don’t let hens
drive drunk to live poultry slams…

Concerned about April 30th, Poultry in
my Pocket Day? Find a cute chick!

IMG_5445

gospel in a villanelle

IMG_1831Which side of the cross are you?
Criminals hang on either side
Repent, believe God’s Son, be new!

One robber gives Christ honor due
The other curses while he died
Which side of the cross are you?

Jesus’ grace invites me and you
From his offer we cannot hide
Repent, believe God’s Son, be new!

I confess that I’m a sinner too
I broke God’s law each time I lied
Which side of the cross are you?

All fall below the bar, it’s true
Our condemnation is justified
Repent, believe God’s Son, be new!

The choice today; what will you do?
I pray you would with faith decide
On which side of Christ’s cross are you?
Repent, believe, God makes all things new!

call to serve

Stirred by theme of “vocation or call” at d’Verse Poets today…

_______

young women

attend college

afraid to admit

perhaps their

fondest dream:

“I just want to

be a mother.”

“JUST”  ??!!

go for it, girl!

yes, do pursue

the education

you desire in

becoming a

better person

but don’t let

any feminazi

talking head

denigrate you

for aspiring to

the high calling

of motherhood!

_______

They say that man is mighty,

He governs land and sea,

He wields a mighty sceptre, 

O’er lesser powers that be,

But a mightier power and stronger,

Man from his throne has hurled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle,

Is the hand that rules the world.

                       -William Ross Wallace

_______

Note:  I found a totally different version of his poem here:  http://www.potw.org/archive/potw391.html

seems only the best are taken

To honor Rallyn Van Beek, Betty Mennega, Kara Tippets, Phyllis Meerdink, and Ed Zomermaand; whose loss is grieved, whose memory is treasured, whose faith is rewarded!

pilgrims on a journey

through lonely valley

of uncertain, unchosen

battles of aging, cancer,

treatments, injury and pain.

how to understand it?

how to go on? one step by

wobbly step, one tough day to next;

Spirit lifts struggling saints

 in present hard grief to

glimpse higher vision.

their suffering redeemed by

the Father for holy purpose as

spirits grow ever stronger

with time, faith and courage.

dying is simply a

passageway to paradise,

true rest, complete healing;

they know the Prince of Peace

who calls and carries them home.

IMG_6975

photo: “Rose of Sharon” (crown anemone) in “Promised Land” (Israel)

beauty is …

 

evident in

self-sacrifice;

deny one’s

own needs

to satisfy one

who’s even

more needy.

 

go hungry to

feed a child,

feel thirsty by

sharing last

water bottle,

be humbled by

another’s honor.

 

listen to

someone’s

complaint,

ease a pain,

change a bed

or diaper for

young or old.

 

doesn’t come

naturally, but

life and love

will demand

we give up

our own ugly

selfishness,

 

if we want to

live beautiful.

 


 

Written for Mary’s poetry prompt on “beauty” at d’Verse Poets

air in motion

our atmosphere

photo by S. Etole

Photo credit:  S. Etole

is making some

commotion here

 

wind blows

chinook whips

zephyr flows

tempest grips

norther howls

westerly stalls

squall prowls

microburst falls

 

yes, it will please

to dry the laundry

on soft breeze

 

but gusty gale

 

frames a pout

when all umbrellas

turn inside out!

 

 


Sharing with TweetSpeak Poetry…

 

 

i fightis colitis

 

stressed out

pressed out

spread thin as

melted butter

dries into hard

charred toast

(cheap toaster,

get what you

pay for, huh?)

 

calendar days

overlap, overfill

with uneventful

events (or ever

errant errands);

can’t clear any

cluttered squares

for open spaces

just to breathe.

 

responsibilities

worry like dog

that won’t let go

of old stale bone;

just bury them

(in moist garden

with earthworms

in dirt) dig ’em up

later, composted.

 

body is inflamed

system attacks own

internal flora/fauna

(acidic thoughts

exacerbate cycle:

over-react  or

stuff fears deep?)

irritated colon tries

to digest itself.

 

is it possible

to self-correct

immuno-hyper-vigilantis?

 


 

“Therefore we do not lose heart.  though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

 

 

 

 

inviting an archeologist to dinner

IMG_6847

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tel-Aviv we’ve filled out the guest list

Tel-Beersheva it’s bring your own beverage

Tel-Dan ancient veal will be an entree option

Tel-Masada he’s welcome for duration of siege

Tel-Avedat her ostracon reveals menu caveat

Tel-Jericho to not throw dishes at any busboys

Tel-Megiddo we’re serving a 26-layer dessert!

 


Linking to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

 

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