GOOSE GRACE II

December 6, 2002

Sixteen degrees and still as a mouse!
A perfect day to stay in the house,
But animals are calling and that quite loudly,
So I walk on out with shoulders back proudly.

Milk in the buckets to feed baby calves,
Each gallon divided exactly in halves,
Nurse bays opened and the babies shoved in;
They'll climb up your back without a nurse pen!

Plastic buckets with nipples in a row;
Stand back and watch those little calves go!
Slurping and sucking 'til no milk left,
Then they look at me as a calf bereft!

Feed mama ewe with her tiny little lamb,
Then ewes in waiting and the big old ram;
Two buckets for steers and one for the cows,
And then with icy fingers I head for the house.

But wait, there are chickens and rabbits to feed;
In sixteen degrees they too are in need;
But goodness! These fingers and the tips of my toes!
I think they are colder than the end of my nose!

And just as I walk away from the barn,
Mother goose calls out, "I'm ready for corn!"
She slept all night on the ice-covered pond,
And with that poor goose I feel such a bond!

Last Spring she and gander led goslings around,
But the goslings are gone and no gander is found.
She is Canadian with black and white head,
Still stately and strong though "Daddy" is dead.

So as I sprinkled her corn on the ice,
It seemed that my God gave me advice:
"Stand stately and strong though cold and alone,
For I'm planning to bring you again to your own."

MOM’S WHISTLE

November 21, 2002

In the kitchen or the store, or in the pasture’s wood,
That whistle of my Darling brought me running if I could,
It was always soft and gentle, so enticing in its sound;
But best of all it let me know that love was close around.

How I’ve missed that loving whistle throughout this slow paced year,
So I know you can imagine when I waked today to hear
That whistle in the kitchen; How it bounced me out of bed!
Not for breakfast that was ready, but to feed my soul instead.

No dreams for several months to cheer me on my way,
Though I ask for them as often as I daily kneel to pray;
But this one was a charmer my soul cannot forget,
That tells me that my Sweetheart has not forgotten yet.

The sky in crimson beauty announces this new day;
With Dorothy’s loving whistle I go happy on my way;
And in that Eastern brightness I see a whole new sky
Which says that man is born to live, and not to tire and die.

A MAJOR GIFT

Christmas Time, Two Thousand Two,
Time again for greeting you
With words of love and Christmas Cheer
As we close yet another year.

Long have been my days this year,
Without my Living Dorothy Dear,
But they have passed in song and praise
As God blessed me in many ways:

Memories of our years three score,
So rich and full they seemed much more;
Children so alike my wife
That they, like she, enrich my life.

Friends in church and those next door
Give me courage more and more
To press ahead with work in hand
To spread God’s love throughout the land.

It is not I that foils my grief;
Friends, family, faith - sweet relief;
And I know my wife must smile
As God helps me to reconcile.

As I receive this perfect gift,
God give me grace that I may lift
Those who have not eyes to see
The vision You have granted me.

Your Son came down to cancel death;
This he said with every breath;
So let us shout throughout the earth
That death is life through His sweet birth.

A MAJOR GIFT

October 30, 2002

Christmas Time, Two Thousand Two,
Time again for greeting you
With words of love and Christmas Cheer
As we close another year.

Long have been my days this year,
Without my Living Dorothy Dear,
But they have passed in song and praise
As God blessed me in many ways.

Memories of our years three score,
So rich and full they seemed much more;
Children so alike my wife
That they, like she, enrich my life.

Friends in church and those next door
Give me courage more and more
To press ahead with work in hand
To spread God's love throughout the land.

It is not I that foils my grief;
Friends, family, faith - sweet relief;
And I know my wife must smile
As God helps me to reconcile.

As I receive this perfect gift,
God give me grace that I may lift
Those who have not eyes to see
The vision You have granted me.

Your Son came down to cancel death;
This he said with every breath;
So let us shout throughout the earth
That death is life through His sweet birth.

ACROSTICS

Acrostic poems, it is said
Convey a message as they’re read
Reading leading letters of each line
Of the poem to divine
Some name or word we’re wished to know
To let the poet try to show
In his or her acrostic way
Completely what he wants to say.

GLOSSAL TONGUES

August 23, 2002

Tongues of poets, like tongues of frogs,
Often go awry,
And get them into social bogs
A great deal more than meets the eye.
The frog looks up and sees a bug
And lashes out with slingshot tongue,
And sometimes finds he is too smug
To check the bugs who he’s among.

The frog begins to blink his eyes
As foreign bugs inflict their sting;
This frog is met with rank surprise
As now his ears begin to ring
Yes, poets tune their ear to words,
And sometimes write a potent verse;
But then, their dish becomes potsherds
Of glossal words unrehearsed!

So help me, Lord, to weigh my word
Upon the scales of other’s ears,
Realizing it may seem absurd
To those of more or lesser years;
To those you’ve dealt a different hand,
Who’ve never walked along my trail,
Lest those who’ve lived in different land
Find my poem of no avail.

WILD FLOWERS

May 19, 2002

Darling, I know the flowers where you now live
Have more scent and beauty than earth bound flowers give,
But still I think you’d like to share with me
The beauty I am privileged to see.

Remember purple flowers you wanted me to dig,
Growing in the ditch beside an old oil rig?
How we dug them up with care and brought them over here,
Never dreaming they would bloom year after year?

Last year we reset some around the water pump;
This year they are glorious, a sweet smelling clump;
With tall green stems, lacey leaves and purple flowers
That smell like Lilacs as they drink May showers.

Just another of the many things you left here behind
To remind me of you and soothe my troubled mind,
Things that help me often to while away the time,
And sometimes inspire me to write another rhyme.

I wish I could cut some and pass them up to you;
Perhaps more than some; maybe quite a few;
But since you are living where your city lies “Foursquare”
My bouquet will have to wait until I get there’

I feel that you are looking past my bowed down shoulder,
Thinking how to roll away this huge old boulder,
That seals your grave and cuts you off from me,
Waiting now to hear me shout, “Behold, I see!”

WORDS OF THE SPIRIT

May 17, 2002

Three times she visited night before last;
Three times as pleasant as dreams of the past.
My head on her lap, her eyes soft and gentle;
Not a word did she speak; our visit was mental.

I needed no words; her smile was sufficient;
Nor did she; she now is omniscient;
Nor is this so new, for all through our life
She discerned my thinking as a dutiful wife.

Just being together was all that we needed;
Our spirits commingled and somehow we heeded
What only our spirits were able to say,
Nor are we deprived of that blessing today.

Oh yes, I long for the touch of her hand,
Her every need to be my command,
A kiss every morning and often all day;
Life was so pleasant living that way.

But now that her body lies silent and still,
I know I must know that God's perfect will
Is to send her Spirit which I love so much,
Through which Oj and Dorothy still keep in touch.

A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING

The reason that so many tools are often never found
Is because we can’t remember just where we put them down;
Though our folks tried to train us when we were just a pup,
“The proper place is never down; always put things up”.

We always think we will recall just where we put the tool;
But when we simply cannot find it, we always feel we’ve played the fool.
We find ourselves much longer searching, and life steps up its pace
When there’s not a place for everything, and all things in their place.

So when we feel so self-important that we need not keep this law,
We’d best recall, for our own good, what was taught us by our Pa,
Then next time I need it, I won’t feel so terribly ill
Because by this, my own neglect, I can’t find my doggone drill!

LEAVE THEM WITH THE LORD

I met an aged friend at the store uptown today,
She said there were so many for whom we need to pray.
I asked her to name them, which wrinkled her cute brow,
And she confessed in shame, “I can’t remember now”.

How can we pray for friends, but can’t recall their name?
Would such a nameless prayer reach up to God the same
As prayer which mentioned one by one all persons on the list,
Meticulously seeing that not a soul was missed?

I knew that lady very well; no one her faith could doubt;
I’m sure as she brought friends to God, nobody was left out;
And having turned her heart to God, the angels could record
That this great soul had brought her friends and left them with the Lord.

So God knows each of them; He sees their every need;
He touches their infirmity, and they are truly freed;
So there was not a reason for her to feel ashamed,
For through her prayer obedience they were already named.