Friday, January 29, 2016


Nourished in the dirt 

Poison absorbed
Breathe out number eight
Life from high above
Leaves raised to the sun

Nourished in the Word
All sin absolved
Sing out holy praise
Life through Awesome love
Hands raised to the Son

Planted and grown
For plenty of uses:

Adventure, climb

Quick door decorations

Fire’s fuel from wood

Beloved and known
So no more excuses:

Love-law is prime

Sickpoor ministrations
Prayers oft we should

Wednesday, January 20, 2016


A desert land of doom and gloom,
sadness and madness,
dampened hope and knotted rope

But in the darkness
shines a Light that beckons us tonight
Put it behind you again,
this prison den called sin

But quoth the Savior, "Nevermore"

Thursday, January 14, 2016

"The Quest"

A questing journey to mountain’s peak
Thro’ forests dark and battles thick
almost severing hope’s endless wick
‘Tis an answer our heroes seek

Traveling trio with hearts all true
with bow, with arrow, with sword and shield
A year or more, and far afield
They’re loyal and strong, courageous too

They fight their way thro’ monsters large:
spiders, trolls, and countless beasts
fierce dragons, too, ‘til fires cease
An army’s call? They lead the charge

Of no value are shining gold,
sparkling gems, and magic rings
To them, these treasures don’t mean a thing
“Expenses only,” they’ve spoken bold

Amongst themselves, they quarreled a season
A fair maiden’s hand they pursued,
but she eloped—some other strong youth
Suddenly, there was no reason

They passed right by the youthful fountain,
a map and key to Shangri-La,
and ogre pursued by angry mob
Steadfast, they approached the mountain

Up, up! Above the clouds they climb
One final test before they quit,
but not all are fated to make it:
Two fell while rumbling rocks did slide

The last adventurer did not stop
Wiped frostbit nose with tattered sleeve,
decided he had no time to grieve,
Beaten, bloody, he crawled to top

“Young man, what is it that you wonder?”
the wise man asked, patient hands clasped
“Dear Sage,” said he thro’ faint final gasp,
“Toilet paper: over—or under?”

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

"Ears To Hear"

A second shift
‘cause ben-Yaaqob
said he was sick
Prob’ly faking again

It’s getting cold,
should build a fire
Working half-souled,
watching a rooster sleep

Abrupt bustle
A Roman squad
on the hustle
Assigned to go along

Across the brook
I raise my torch
and take a look
Twelve men in the garden

They look simple
I saw that one
in the temple
Wha—Suddenly supine!

A flash! A cry!
The big one’s sword!
I’m ‘bout to die
Mutter quick: whispered curse

Can’t hear, bleeding!
If ben-Yaaqob
is home reading…
If only ben-Yaaqob!!!

The one which we sought,
he has come quite near
Just what has he wrought?
It’s back! My right ear!

They rush Him off now
I fall to my knees
and in my heart bow
I hear, and I see

Perhaps he is sick
Could he too be healed?
ben-Yaaqob needs quick
to know: This is real