enter your email here

Friday, May 12, 2017

Mothers Day

As mother’s day approaches, I think we feel the weight
Of loss of someone wonderful, whom we should celebrate.
She is not here to talk to, or to give her some nice flowers
Or sit with her and visit, and while away the hours.

Perhaps we can remember, that she’d usher us to church
And then maybe we'd go back home, she didn’t like to splurge.
I’d make something for dinner, and we’d sit down to eat
And say nice things for ‘mother’, and tell her she was sweet.

She really did appreciate, the time together she’d get
Perhaps we’d be in Lund, getting the store all set.
We’d help set out the books and things, and set up the displays,
She loved you all for being there, she did love you always.

This mother’s day I think that I, can try say one thing:
Your mother always loved you, not just one day in Spring.
If she could speak she’d tell you that, and say that she would pray
For all of you, and also that, she'll wait for you some day.

Oh how it would be nice, if we could go to way back when
And say more things we should have said, and say them all again.
Perhaps somehow she’s listening, and watching from above
So we can still give up our thanks, and for our mom, our love.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

My nutritionist said I should eat more nut butters,
She said "they are good for you, and for most others."
But I have to admit that brown paste is not glamorous,
I'll have to get used to them, maybe even "enamorous."

"Put it on rice cakes.."  She said almost cheerfully,
I thought "not another Yule Gibbons!" most tearfully.
But she's been right before and I feel much better,
So I will do just what she says, but not always to the letter.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

To the Brown's

Two years ago now?  How time really flies!
Yet you remember like yesterday when your loved one just dies.
I know.  I remember.  I was there in your grief.
And in ways it's still hard, and in ways it's relief.

Relief  because you know where she's gone.
And quite possibly right now she is singing a song:
To her Lord up on high, what a glorious sight!
You'd like to sing with her, and well, you just might.

You can join her in remembering the mom that she was.
How she loved you and cared for you...   just because.
It's good to remember, and it's good to be sad,
It's ok - because then you can also be glad.

She's gone.  She no longer can talk to her child.
Or her husband, in soft tones, with eyes that are mild.
A house now is emptier, no voice from that room.
That you just took for granted each morning, or noon.

Yet she's here, in the things that you do every day.
She molded and shaped you, she's "in" you some way.
So you can go on, knowing some day you'll meet
And things then will be perfect, and good, and complete.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

The Whiner

I took my Ambien thinking i'd sleep,
A restful long night.
When inside of my dreams there was something - a creep,
That gave me a fright.

I can't hide from things that my mind has to fear,
Until the right time.
I wake up, disturbed by what I now hear:
A soft high pitched whine.

Coming out of my slumber I sit up in anger,
My dog's sitting there.
I look, and he looks, he's now in high danger
Of me pulling his hair.

What does he want now, some water or food
Poured into his bowl?
My thought is:  some poison!  Yes that would be good!
But I'm stayed by my soul.

So I condescend with some food for his tummy,
Yes, that will be fine.
But he just dances around like a dunce or a dummy,
"I'll get him some wine!"

He's drunk with some purpose, it's haunting my dreams.
I'm trying to balk
From giving right in to what it just seems:
A short little walk.

It's cold outside, me in shirt and some shorts,
I hope it is dark?
'cause I'm not getting dressed when I head for out doors.
Then hear a loud bark.

A walk, yes, I think, just shaking my head,
He looks right at me.
My "Jammie's" still on - he should be shot dead,
But he just has to pee

This verse is now written, back in bed for a spell,
and I cannot sleep,
My brain is awake, tho not thinking too well
I believe he's a creep.

So I write here in silence and stare at the ceiling,
My eyes open wide.
Thinking He should be happy, in thanks should be kneeling....
He just snores at my side.
A website, by me, of some of my verse!
Some poems will be better and some will be worse
No reason for rhyme, this is part of the fun
Now that I've started, am I under the gun?

Perhaps 'round these verses will be buttons to press
Then you'll find more of my stuff - till I learn how to dress
up this sight with pictures and sound
So all of your senses will maybe be drowned.

In past years, till now, and way far beyond
I have written some verse to throw into the pond
of reflection, and some times the falls of poor humor
Not all of it's great, is the talk and the rumor.

But it's mine, and it mostly came out of my brain
Inspired by love, and sometimes by pain
Sometimes it's just a thought popping my head
So I write it down and hope that you'll get it instead

I know this is most times just verses of rhyme
But sometimes I really will take quite some time
To put down deep things that come mostly at night
And mayhaps you'll think that my head isn't right

But it's me.  And you don't have to follow this blog
For sometimes I'll leave you in a bit of a fog
My purpose is oft to just make you blink
At others, it might be to just make you think.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Number 2 (A Post Surgery Poem - I was probably on drugs - or not)

(May, 2010)

"Number 2", "Number 2", "Number 2 ", yes, "Number 2",
This is what they ask you:  "Have you done a Number 2"!
3 or 4 or 5 - these numbers simply cannot do. 
To get out of there you have to do a Number 2.

Number 1 is good, if you will do it with a flair.
But number 2 is wonderful even if you foul  the air. 
Number 3 - you might think - that it was even better
But number 2 is what you need if you're a "stander" or a "setter."

I didn't do it right away, and that caused some concern
I simply didn't understand the meaning of the term.
Sometimes I count in binary - I'd get the meaning then.
All they'd have to ask for, would have been a number 10. 

Tuesday, February 28, 2012


(April 15, 2009)

Sometimes we're angry.
Sometimes we're glad.
Sometimes we're weepy.
Sometimes we're sad.

Sometimes we laugh and there's no reason why.
Sometimes we feel we could just up and die.
Sometimes we look for the positive way.
Sometimes we wonder if there'll be another day.

Sometimes we listen and hear nothing new.
Sometimes we reason that there's too much to do.
Sometimes we're amazed by the friends that we know.
Sometimes we're dazed by the love that they show.

Sometimes we listen to each other breathe.
Sometimes we wish that we wouldn't have to leave.
Sometimes we think that we are just lucky.
Sometimes we love when things are "just ducky".

Sometimes we watch too much for a sign.
Sometimes we wish it would just turn benign.
Sometimes we wonder how God could do this.
Sometimes we ponder why He gave us such bliss.

Sometimes we think that God isn't "up there".
Sometimes we doubt that He really does care.
Sometimes we contemplate His all-knowing nature.
Sometimes we can't believe we're His creature.

Sometimes "we're fine!" with a wink and a nod.
Sometimes we just don't know where to trod.
Sometimes we wish for another new day.
Sometimes we feel that every thing's grey.

But at all times our faith is in God whom we trust.
And at all times we know whether in boom or in bust.
That in all times He shows us that He is the one.
Because of the love of His very own Son.