Tag Archives: Poetry

Drought of the Soul

In this wasteland
of trials and tribulation
pain and suffering
illness and loss
my soul longs for solace
for Your refreshing waters
but there is only drought

My soul is parched
cracking at its brittle seams
thirsting for Your well of grace

And yet I realize
the well is there for the drawing
it is I who have failed
to lower my bucket
and drink deeply

——-

Yesterday at dVerse Poets Pub, Walter called for poems about either drought or deluge. I chose drought.

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A Dog’s Summer Vacation

I love vacation because I get to spend more time with my mom and dad. Even if a lot of that time is riding in the back seat of the car. Eventually we get out and I get to hang out while they eat their picnic lunch and share pieces of pastrami and chicken with me. Yum! Then we head off on a trail. I’ve never been on such a long hike before, at least not that I can remember. And it’s hot out! I keep trying to sneak into a cool ravine, but they pull on my leash and say, “Stay on the trail, silly dog.” I see a chipmunk run across the trail ahead and I want to chase it, but that darn leash stops me. I do hope we get to the end of this trail soon. This is a long hike for an old dog like me. I need a drink and a nap. Oh, but first a dip in the cool lake.

Summer vacation
Hiking near lava rock flows
Fun, tiring outing

Roman after a long hike

Roman after a long hike

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I’m finally getting around to posting for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub, where Toni is calling for us to write about the dog days of summer.

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Where Division Begins and Ends

I watched the children at their play
Left to their own devices
Selfishness and pride ruled the day
They seemed to forget what nice is

I saw the ones who had no toys
Longingly eye the others
The rich, the privileged girls and boys
Ignored by their busy mothers

On each small innocent face
I saw a measure of pain
What they needed was a helping of grace
So abundant love might reign

The poor kids think they’re missing out
The rich kids equate love with things
What both need I have no doubt
Is the love of the King of kings

But who will teach them how to love
And receive love in return
You and I must show grace from above
To create peace for which we all yearn

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Two Paths Diverge

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As I sit on this bench
Winded and tired
Reveling in the cooling breeze
Two paths diverge in a wood
And I must take the one
That goes uphill
Not knowing if or when
I will reach the end

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Peace on the Breeze

There is no scent like eucalyptus
to bring me back to days of yore

Summer sun sweetly gripped us
as down the road on bikes we tore

No Kookaburra graced our gum trees
though a hawk or two was seen

Smelling its scent wafting on the breeze
brings to mind a most peaceful scene

I settle now for its essential oil
to bring me to a stress-free place

Riding again without turmoil
feeling the sun’s warm embrace

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For Poetics today at dVerse Poets Pub, Grace is calling for poems about scents and the memories they invoke. The scent that evokes the strongest and best memories for me is that of the Eucalyptus tree, which grew along the main road a block from the house I grew up in down in Southern California.

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A Betrayal of Roses

He sent six roses
As if roses made it okay

As if roses washed away
feeling betrayed

As if roses proved mom’s belief
he was one of the good ones

As if roses, his cute smile,
and his silky blonde hair
justified his actions

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It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub today and I cheated again. I checked out Bjorn’s blog and found the required word is “rose.”

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The Record

It’s really quite long
This record of wrongs
The list that I’ve kept

I love you, it’s true
But my love for you
Is less than ideal

Don’t tell me you don’t
Believe you I won’t
You keep your list too

We’re only human after all
And ever since the Fall
We’ve been tallying scores

We need His love divine
Covering yours and mine
So we might love true

———

It’s Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub today. The pub opens at noon my time and I’ll be linking this up then. Head on over and see what other poets are serving up.

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For the Love of Summer

Love keeps no record of wrongs
To me summer means love
with its hot sunny days
and plants blooming everywhere

Do you suppose summer
keeps a record of winter’s wrongs
its harsh cold blizzard blasts
freezing rains and icy winds

Does summer hold a grudge
about winter’s dark dreary nights
and short sunless days

Does summer blame winter
for the death of plants
once vibrant and green
now brown and forlorn upon
the frost-bitten ground

Or does summer forgive
embracing winter’s loss
with its warm sunny days
its Godly loving ways

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For yesterday’s Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub, Walter called for a poem about the seasons using a line from another poem as a starting point. I didn’t quite follow the prompt because the line that is the anchor and muse of my poem is from scripture, not a poem, and the line itself is not about seasons. Rather, it is about love. The line from 1 Corinthians 13:5 — “Love . . . keeps no record of wrongs” — has been on my mind lately. Then last night I had this idea for a poem involving my most and least favorite seasons and whether their relationship is a loving one.

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Harenochiame – 晴後雨 はれのちあめ

An outdoor June wedding in the Pacific Northwest is always a crap shoot. You pick a date and hope the weather cooperates, or else don’t care whether it does or not. If a little rain (or an impending thunder storm) is going to ruin your special day, pick an indoor venue. But outdoors and June was the perfect option for a young woman named Kelsey June who loves nature. The weather forecast changed from thunderstorms to blue skies to intermittent rain showers every two hours or so. When the time for the beautiful riverside ceremony arrived (an hour late due to a train on the tracks that delayed the entire wedding party and guests) the sun was shining bright. As the festivities continued, there were periods of chill rain showers, some downpours, followed by blue skies again. I suppose the wedding day was a microcosm of the marriage itself, into which some rain and some sun will come in alternating bursts of life together.

Summer rain showers
Unpredictable as life
Nourish all that grows

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It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub and once again Toni is at the helm. We are writing about rain and are to title our poem one of the 50 Japanese words for rain. I chose harenochiame ( 晴後雨  はれのちあめ), which means clear then rain. As a traditionalist, Toni is asking for us to include a traditional haiku at the end of the haibun. I have complied, though the wedding my haibun is about was anything but traditional. I’ve included below a pictures of the newlywed couple.

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An Angel’s Life

I’ve had a blessed life
though I didn’t always
think it would be so

My first memory
is praying for the
frantic Christmas shoppers
at Costco, standing high on a shelf
It felt weird to look down
on the carts filled
with unnecessary things
while praying for their souls

At last I was taken home
by a nice family
placed in a garden corner
I was blessed with the honor
of praying over the nativity,
over the Holy Child
as the snow drifted down

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January came
and the nativity was taken away
Long, cold days followed
and I feared the dreary days ahead
The family would dart out the front door
to quickly get into their cars
and drive away, gone all day
I prayed for their safe return

I should have known
that each season passes to the next
Winter gave way to spring and
the family planted flowers,
the azalea bush bloomed,
and I was blessed once again
with the honor of praying
over what God had created
Never shall I despair again

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Lillian is tending the bar at dVerse Poets Pub today for Poetics and is thinking about statues. One of the options she offered is to write from the point of view of a statue, so I’ve written from the point of view of the angel statue in my front yard.

 

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