Sometimes in church,
i’m filled with this wild
desire to run up front
and embrace the bare
over-sized, free standing
wood cross; cling to it and
let everyone call me a
tree hugger.
posting poetic prose
18 Mar 2013 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: lent
Sometimes in church,
i’m filled with this wild
desire to run up front
and embrace the bare
over-sized, free standing
wood cross; cling to it and
let everyone call me a
tree hugger.
13 Mar 2013 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: grandma
I think I must be younger than I am;
Still looking for a mirror that’s wrinkle free.
Hey, only special peeps may call me Gram.
I really do not need the “senior discount” plan,
Send back those letters from A.A.R.P.!
I think I must be younger than I am.
Adults who call me Grandma? I take it “like a man”
but wonder whether they can count to three!
‘Cuz only special peeps may call me Gram.
Kids fill the house with music; it’s time for us to jam.
Can chaos and commotion inspire poetry?
I think I must be younger than I am.
Blond boy and baby girl, sweetest members of our fam,
Come snuggle in my arms or re-read books across my knee.
Yes, only special peeps may call me Gram.
So many birthday candles? I just cannot understand.
My truest friends are winking because they all agree,
I really must be younger than I am,
And only special peeps may call me Gram!
08 Mar 2013 6 Comments
This stockman understands his cattle well;
he knows each bovine personality.
If list’ning to the farmer’s show and tell,
you just might learn which traits he thinks are key.
It’s easy to see why he prized that cow;
her gentleness was evident to all.
She would not kick or ever cause a row;
when calving, she walked calmly to the stall.
That morning lay this black cow in the dust;
for farmer’s eyes a sadness to behold.
He kneels beside the vet, whose words he trust.
No more fine, healthy calves from her be sold.
All creatures are destined to die at last.
We grieve, yet grateful, for a life well passed.
08 Mar 2013 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: accident, death, grief
Groping slow-motion, sluggish
from sweetly dreamless sleep to
grasp thin robe, grab slippers in dark
to investigate the insistent rapping
on dorm room door.
Startle at troubled faces in collar and uniform;
an awkward visitation of starless midnight.
Stumble backwards toward rumpled bed,
mental fog pierced clean through as
unthinkable words erase reality.
No, dear God, NO!
Push the black panic away,
the fierce pain back into the Pit.
This monster is too horrible…
The incomprehensible can NOT happen!
Now dressed in fragile, trembling resolve
Must identify the broken bodies of beloved.
Bloodied, bruised by a violent vault of metal.
On white sheets, the cold tearless truth is blinding–
Absolutely alone on an axis-less earth.
Past numbing decisions and funeral’s fatigue,
grief rises from mounded grave sites
to suffocate this single survivor.
Nightmares and misery move in with baggage;
Wild sobs drown out the phone’s sad ringtones.
Anger burns at Death’s unrelenting greed;
flashes hot questions at God — “Why did YOU allow this?!”
Turns away from helpless friends’ futile comfort;
bends inward on already shell-shocked soul as
depressed thoughts, ghastly guilt clutch the mind.
Without permission, days and seasons move on,
and the others dare to go on living, apart.
Faith’s mystery is always the epic struggle;
whether or not to trust…
to accept the inexplicable…beyond belief.
(With prayers for Brittany Vollmer who lost her family on February 23, 2013.)
22 Jan 2013 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Roe v. Wade
Forty years of young blood
flows from unseen innocents
screams of pain silenced
by violent acts in desecrated sanctuaries.
Forty years of living lies
mothers’ nurture and fathers’ love denied
beating human hearts betrayed
healers’ hippocratic oaths broken.
Forty years of injustice
how long is time enough?
america grows callous and cold
we all die a little inside.
16 Jan 2013 Leave a comment
Did the tourism bureau
neglect to mention
that in our fair state
expect to experience
four distinct seasons:
freezer burn,
flood ‘n mud,
swelter belt,
dust or bust ?!
09 Jan 2013 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: coffee, marriage
received a shiny black coffee maker
as a formal wedding gift
so…
she, for he,
brewed a steamy pot every morning
as a dutiful wife
and…
he, for she,
drank his morning cuppa joe
as a faithful husband
until…
she, then he,
admitted (after the first anniversary)
that neither really cared for black coffee
hence…
he and she
hid the coffee maker in a back cupboard
and poured orange juice for breakfast.
29 Dec 2012 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: snowshoes, winter
Slow down to notice spectacular beauty in ordinary scenes.
Make some fresh tracks where no one else has tramped.
Look upward and outward to where your feet should follow.
Re-trace the most memorable winding paths.
Be prepared for fallen branches, hidden entanglements or narrow spaces.
When prickly pines try to needle you, carefully brush past them.
Reap rewards of pushing a little longer…a little further on.
Breathe deeply of crisp, clean air and laugh aloud in wonder
at all that glitters in the bright sunlight.
Be dazzled by life!
25 Dec 2012 2 Comments
His presence enters the womb,
A babe invades the stable;
The answer questions the teachers,
A carpenter turns the table.

A light shines for the blind,
His life raises the dead;
The bread eats with sinners,
The shepherd’s lambs are fed.
The judge stands condemned,
An only son suffers alone;
Our lover embraces the cross,
The creator lies cold behind stone.
Lord, your power destroys death;
Your blood’s stain washes sin.
You must break into our world
When we will not let you in!
19 Dec 2012 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: cardinal, haiku, winter
Plump red cardinal
dines on snow-dusted seeds, then
flees to frosted spruce.
Winter mittens kit
muscular feline fur ball
balanced on barn door.
Dark cows form huddle
warm breath steaming chilly air
bracing for blizzard.
25 Nov 2012 11 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: advent, angel
At heaven’s high command,
a white-hot beam of purest light
penetrates time and space
to touch our tiny blue planet.
Silence is muted by the
wholly alien presence with
whispering whir of mighty wings.
Flesh crawls with palpable wide-eyed terror
as the dazzling creature of holy flame
fixes its piercing gaze on
a pale, trembling mortal.
“Do not be afraid.”
Surprising, melodious words
uttered by the molten-gold messenger.
But when he speaks again–
eyes lower, palms sweat, and
dry lips must answer with
the total stuttering truth
or risk disintegrating
in ashes and smoke.
28 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: prairie rose, roses, wildflowers
My mother raised roses in lovely hues:
soft peach, pale yellow, and deep scarlet;
each properly pruned and sweetly scented.
I admired her backyard bushes in bloom,
squirmed under her careful cultivation as
she pruned flaws and nurtured character
I was of different seed by birth but
mom raised me like her own heirloom,
watered with tender attention until
Transplanted to Iowa and grafted to a farmer,
I find myself blooming like a wild prairie rose;
delicately fragrant yet proven to be hardy.
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