A Poem

Writing a poem is as easy

As saying please for help

When you’re broken down

With a flat tire

Or your radiator has overheated.

Boy, I could sure use some help right now.

Well, friend, what do you need?

A bottle of water would be just fine, Jim.

Okay, brother, don’t mind if I do.

Let’s work on this together.

To my wife, I say, I love you.

So what’s the trick, Bill?

Just say what you mean,

Or if you’re more daring,

Say what you don’t mean.

Easy as pie!


The messenger got tangled

Within the message.

The toddler got lost

When he took his first steps.

The game was over

Before it started.

Can you catch

The turkey drippings?

Can you see

The license on the car?

Do you care to dance

This number?

Is my suit slick

Enough for this hip joint?

Echoes of a Silent Gift

Silent echoes ring in your ear.

The emptiness is mystifying.

One crumb, a feast for a family.

Rats crawl out of the cellar.

What is the path to warmth

On this chilly day?

A gift is given in some time and place,

Far away from the city.

Stars in the swirling sky

Shine hope to a lonely heart.

Is there yet love? He asks himself.

Ah, but how could this beautiful world exist

Without it?

Little Things

As I strolled along the beaten path,

I thought of how a dinner roll

Might be the nasty thing to do the trick,

Or maybe some fried, breaded okra.

Do you see the harmony

In the little things in the cemetery?

Jump into my arms, just as the wave

Crashes upon the shore.

The tide is coming in, my dear,

So count your blessings for this year.

Christmas Mess

Christmas comes but once a year.

Once a year is more than enough.

Couldn’t we change it to every other year?

That would be more practical, I think.

It would fit my budget and my

Planning calendar better that way.

Couldn’t we carol every six years,

And maybe give gifts every ten?

Traveling, and standing in line,

Making a turkey, a ham, or both;

Oh, what stress I’m in just

Thinking about all the fun.

Holidays are never as

Wonderful as they are

Hyped up to be.

Christmas is a religious holiday,

At its heart. But it’s gotten

So commercial, or it’s a time

For family to gather,

Which means asking off of work.

Can my schedule fit

The schedule of everyone else?

Oh, what a mess!


Waiting for a sign,

Just a little clue,

Something to signify

When my day is through.

Sitting here, doing nothing,

Wondering which way

The wind is blowing.

Don’t you know

That I am bored;

But I’m not

A bit sore.

Follow this

Brief direction.

There won’t be

An insurrection.

Do the thing

That comes to mind.

If you seek,

You will find.


My love started small,

With my family.

My mind learned,

But my heart was afraid

To venture out

Into the unknown.

To trust, to care,

To ask, to share—

There is risk in love.

One can always be rejected.


One is misunderstood.


It is a game,

For some people.

And for some,

It’s for high stakes,

From reputation,

To finances,

To children.

Broken love

Can be very costly

To all sides.

But love is worth

All the loss

That can follow it.

As a wise person said,

“Better to have loved, and lost,

Than never to have loved at all.”

Summer Stroll

Meander along

The old country path

Between the oaks,

Wearing Spanish moss in their hair.

The breeze stirs up

The dusty pollen

You give a sneeze,

As you gaze at the trees.

Life bubbles out

Of every crevice.

Ants march along

On a mission.

Gnats swarm around

Your sweaty forehead.

Moths and butterflies

Dance above the shrubs.

Wildflowers decorate

The in-between.

I whistle a humble tune,

And kick a few pebbles

Down the path.

The sun peeks through the trees,

But the shade covers us.

Perhaps, we should head back,

And have a glass of sweet tea.