CHARACTER STUDY

The character of man is seldom discerned
By looking at his clothes,
But much of his actual nature learned
By hearing what he knows.

It is also true that no man is wise
Simply because he is good at rhymes,
But rather more able to advise
If he is acquainted with most times.

What he has learned, plus what he has done,
Combine to build his knowledge;
Then people he joins in labor and fun,
May grant degrees not earned in college.

Great character is earned by strong outreaches,
Seeking to meet the needs of our brothers;
Without outreach, our character impeaches
The good reputation we might have with others.

DARKEST HOURS

Darkest hours before the dawn
Are hours we can’t depend upon;
Too dark to tell the story well,
They make us draw back in our shell.
And often when the dawn arrives,
We find they have not harmed our lives.

So rush not madly in the dark,
But seek more light and then embark;
Wait for dawn and then you’ll see
How your day was meant to be.
God puts his best is all his plan
So, in the dark, as best you can,
Look by faith into His face
And count upon His Saving Grace.

A MIGHTY MOVE

For twenty years I’ve lived right here,
And felt so very much at home;
That this was home was very clear,
Nor did I really want to roam.

For all those years except these three,
Since my wife went home to heaven,
Sandcreek Road was home to me;
No better home could I be given.

But without her, this home died too;
The house was here; the home was gone;
Days were gray and I was blue,
Nor was there much to count upon.

But then there came my bride to be,
With eyes that sparkled like the stars;
I looked through bars excluding me;
But soon our love would break those bars.

So both our houses were our homes,
One more house than we needed,
And combing reason with finer combs,
Emotional ties soon receded.

So now this place is up for sale,
And we are running to and fro;
The winds of change are like a gale,
As we prepare this place to go.

And what a pleasant storm to me,
For God has truly changed my life,
And made it more as it should be
In one house with my Sweet Wife.

And am I ever happy with this decision, Honey!

AS OLD AS WE FEEL

Sometimes I think I’m old
Sometimes I think I’m young
But if the truth be told,
It won’t be by the tongue.

For though my friends encourage me,
Affirming my well being,
My body says it’s plain to see
My muscle tone is fleeing.

At times I’m really shook
And feel so very shy
As youngster say, “How young you look!”
When I feel like I’ll die!

When Uncle Arthur racks my bones
So I can’t walk a line,
And I can’t hear the telephones,
No matter what the kind;

When most of what I eat and drink
Is what the doctor ordered
Then I feel I’m on the brink
Of where this life is bordered.

A truth I heard some years ago
Met me with strong appeal;
And I still hear its strong echo:
“We are no older than we feel!”

So all my days must spring brand new,
And find me on the run,
So now, Old Age, I say to you,
“Don’t mess with me until I’m done!”

A STRANGE LITTLE BOY

July 13, 2004

They tell me as a tiny boy
I always loved the out of doors;
I laughed and showed the greatest joy
When Mother Tierra was my floor.
While others seemed to fuss and cry,
Unless held up in adult arms;
I found great interest in the sky,
The moon, the stars and all their charms.

I loved the clouds, the wind, the rain,
And lightning flashes, far and near,
Mom’s call to come inside was vain;
I was a child that had no fear.
I guess that even then I knew
That God, in charge of all those things,
Knew how to care for quite a few
Who loved to test His angels’ wings.

I played with bottles, stones and sticks;
They were people in my mind,
Sometimes I found them in a fix
That touched my heart and made me kind.
Sometimes I saw them as my foes,
A great array of mighty power,
Just waiting then to work me woes,
To bring me down to my last hour.

And then again ‘neath cloud-cast skies,
When flowers drooped with drippy pedals,
I scraped up dough to make mud pies,
As back drops for my great war medals;
Medals won with stones and sticks,
Fighting foes as fierce as I;
What victory a child can fix,
To show it on his own mud pie.

Oh that years had taught me how
To make the best of what I had;
To see the victory I know now,
And not the loss that looks so bad.
Once a man and twice a child;
A promise every man should cherish
For without faith as meek and mild,
The wisest man is sure to perish.

A TALK WITH MYSELF

July 8, 2004

Sometimes I wonder, as life rolls along,
How much I’m action and how much a song;
It’s so easy to write down all my desires,
But much more difficult to fuel up the fires
That keep the pot boiling ‘til my duty is done
Instead of turning to something called fun.

It’s easy to picture all that I’ll do,
All the left-overs and some things new;
But finding that time to drive the first nail
Seems it’s the stump that fractures my tale.
For example this poem instead of those chores
That holds me inside instead of out doors.

Maybe a list, on a good time line,
Would be a tool to make me inclined
To move a bit faster, to step up the pace
And avoid the disaster of losing my face,
But too many tasks put on that list
Becomes a prime reason that several are missed.

Perhaps I need to know who I am;
That might keep me out of a jam;
To know my strengths and my expertise
Would probably give me a whole new lease
On a life that God understands already,
And wants to help to be stable and steady.

It’s selfish to try to achieve too much;
It only leaves our life in a clutch
That leaves tasks undone
And destroys the fun
Of passing the test
By giving our best.

A LOVE WALTZ

Now Orion, he talked with a beautiful blond
And the band played on;
The vow from their lips
Was to share their friendships
And the band played on.
He could not forget her
So e-mailed a letter
And that’s how this all began
The friendship they’d vowed
Would soon have it’s head bowed,
And sweet love move in.

We met at the church where we heard God’s great word,
And the band played on.
We dealt with our grief
In our common belief
And the band played on.
Then after the church I asked with a lurch
If she would go for a treat;
She kindly said Yes, and I now must confess
That my heart stood still!

We let this become a brief practice with us
And the band played on.
My courage was building
Her beauty so guilding
The band played on.
I asked for a kiss
Though I knew it remiss;
The poor girl shook with alarm.
I kissed her that night and I felt it alright
And the Band played on.

A few weeks had passed and the time came at last
While the band played on
While we were just talking,
Our hearts went out walking,
The band played on.
My heart seemed to say
This was the right day
To ask her to be my wife
She said she would do it
When she could get to it
And that time has come here tonight!

Now Orion will waltz with this beautiful blonde
While the band plays on.
He’ll love her; she’ll love him
None other above them
The band plays on.
They’ll counsel and cuddle,
And often will huddle
To work out the things they’re to do,
As husband and wife, they will build a great life
On this love that God made so true.

A LONESOME JOY

My Darling soon will go to Rome,
Which seems to be so far from home;
More than a week she will be gone,
An absence which I ponder on.

For weeks, I’ve seen her every day;
It seems so good to live that way;
But I’m so glad about this trip
That I am willing that week to skip.

Miss her? yes, I surely will,
But that which helps my heart be still
Is joy I see within her face
As she contemplates that Roman place.

The sights she’ll see, The sounds she’ll hear
Will be a highlight of this year.
Historic finds she’ll talk about
As she describes to me her route.

So I’ll rejoice in her vacation
Far away in another nation;
By God’s grace I will employ
The merit of this Lonesome Joy.
Happy Landings, Sweetheart. Your Orion