MERRY CHRISTMAS

Christmas 1998

It’s December eight, Nineteen Ninety-eight,
So, lest I be late, Or thought an ingrate,
I must wake my bard, who's been in retard,
And though it seems hard, Send out this card.

Our kids were all here in the fall of this year,
Which brought enough cheer to make this year dear.
Tho Mom has been ailin', and Pop has been wailin’.
And some things are failin’, it’s mostly smooth sailin’.

Three meals on the table for all who are able
To eat food with no label, that keeps us quite stable.
We limp when we walk, forget when we talk,
But still we don’t balk when the Lord says “Walk”.

For all these good things that Love to us brings,
In symphony ring as God’s angels sing
Of that time by close by, when a Babe’s low cry,
Says Christmas is nigh, SO WE SAY, 'HI'

WE DO DECIDE WHICH

Unknown Date in 1998

As I lay sleeping on the couch,
The Angel, Gabriel, shoved me Heaven.
The banquet table, I’m here to vouch,
Had to spring from Heaven’s leaven.
Every dish was true perfection;
Not a thing was left undone.
Cheery souls, in my reflection,
Sat round the table, having fun.
But this one circumstance I saw:
Their arms were splinted, straight and strapped.
The thought that made me stand in awe
Was, ‘Why so cheery when handicapped?’

But then the angel changed the scene,
And suddenly we stood in Hell.
A banquet set, just like we’d seen,
Drove home the truth I have to tell.
Sad souls sat in dire dejection,
Hollow-eyed, mal-nourished, all unfed,
Which brought to mind one more reflection:
‘Why sit they here, as though they’re dead?’
The omniscient angel read my mind:
‘Heaven’s souls,’ the angel said,
‘Feed each other because they’re kind.’

And waking with a start, I thought,
"Here lies the key to happy life:
A key, which by her deeds she’s taught,
Throughout life by my kind and loving wife.
Our lives do change and so do we,
For change is growth, and growth is change.
Abundant life, the selfless see,
When through their love they rearrange
Those urgencies that deal with ‘me’
And feed others as they learn each other’s need
Through loving word and thoughtful deed.

MY FIRST LADY

June 20, 1998

When I became a Reynolds in Nineteen Forty-Two
There were some subtle changes I’d like to share with you.
As Parsonage first lady, referred to by my name,
My wife was Reynolds through and through, and acted like the same.

Details were her thing; she never missed a shot,
And when it came to cleaning, she never missed a spot.
People were her purpose; she always saw their need
From wiping children’s noses to teaching them to read.

Violence she detested; she always worked toward peace;
And in trouble calmly moved us, all toward sweet release.
She suffered very quietly, in body, or in soul.
Somehow knowing calmly that faith would make her whole.

I could not live with this, without a change of heart,
And so I studied her to learn to play my part.
And in these years of study, proclaiming God’s great Word,
This self in me has cratered, for now my heart has heard.

In newness I rejoice; from oldness I am free
My old ways disappear, nor does this credit me;
But rather must the credit go to one I truly love;
One who held me up to God, our Father up above.

TO ZACK, GLENDA AND ANTHONY

March 8, 1998

Just a cool, cuddly time with you sweet three,
Around the table with Mother and me.
A healthy portion of calm conversation
On daily doings throughout the nation.

But just being here to love each other
To touch finger-tips or hold one another;
Was more than enough to make the day good,
As the cold day warmed with love and firewood.

So Zack, your ship is about to sail
As soon as the summons comes in the mail?
You’ll be off to lands to accomplish God’s ends;
Your white sails billow now in the winds.

For long years now you have worked on this ship,
And all in all, it’s been a good trip.
She’s polished and waxed and all battened down,
Your degree in hand, dressed in cap and gown.

The seas you’ll sail we don’t know now,
But we know your Captain, and He’ll show you how
To move that craft to where it should be,
Toward whatever land, o’er whatever sea.

But on land or sea, or wherever you are,
With present technologies, you won’t be far;
So keep in touch, whether far or near,
For from 01’ Zack we just gotta hear.

But in that harbor where you set the keel
There’s a lighthouse burning a light that’s real;
And it beckons you home as oft as you can,
For you’re still our child, although a man.