Poem Place – Get Life Right

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Creativity flourishes when it’s off the leash

No age or situation puts it out of reach

Appreciate yourself every day,

Park your anxieties and let your brain play.

Blissed

Friends like you can’t just be found.
For me, I know God sent you down.
You’re special people that I can hang with.
To have a beer and eat a sandwich.
To figure things out and go neat places,
to have great fun and solve hard cases.
My fondest memories, and that’s quite a few,
are adventures that were planned by you.
So many friends, old and new
are people that you introduced me to.
Instead of what we’d all have missed,
you brought us blessings laced with bliss.

Begging you to play

I have a child inside me, and I know that you do too
For you to do your best in life . . . it must be able to
Run and jump and climb and explore
To play . . . . and open every door.

The part of YOU you take to heaven is not what you can do
It isn’t what you have . . . . . or what you grew up to.
It’s your “Child” silly . . . It will not go away
Even if it’s stepped on, it’s wanting you to play.

So while you’re feeling bad, and moping all around
your child is waiting at the door and hoping you are found.
You’re wasting time, I warn you, life’s reeling off the spool.
Find your Child and play right now, or you are just a fool.

Mothers are a Special Lot

Mothers are a special lot
There’s nothing mine wouldn’t do.

She’d give her life without a thought
of what it’d put her through.

No sacrifice is ever too great
no group of them too many.

When a mom sees a need
she gives and gives up plenty.

Paltry was the thanks she got
that never slows her down.

She stood and she delivered
when no progress could be found.

My world is quite together now
her lessons did come back.

I’m healthy and I know it.

I got my life on track.

Her essence is all over me
her influence profound;

I will share the love she gave
as long as I’m around.

Goodnight Promise

Another day is in the bag
And I’m just checking in.
My stuff got handled right up front
But things keep pressing-in.

I’ve been running hard and sweating
No, I’ve not been kicking back
Must you try to give me
Those open-ended tasks.

Those people who are needy
They seem so far off-track?
I moved in the suburbs,
Where we don’t look at that.

I’m overdrawn, the kids are calling
And everything is urgent.
Oh, thank you for reminding me
I’ve got to get detergent.

Don’t worry Lord I love you
Tomorrow I’ll try again.
To take a stab at your stuff
If I can fit it in.

Toast

A self-eulogy with a smile

What was God thinking when He gave me so much fun
when my first and foremost job was to see His will be done?
I know I wasn’t sent here just to take in all the sights.
I know I had a job to do and I know I came up light.

A deer I am in headlights with things I’ve overlooked
I would have been much better if on Him I had been hooked.
My friends you’ve done so much for me. I don’t want to impose
but with this note I give you; do you just suppose

That you could do some things for others; like any of my omissions
and I could get some credits; they’d be like little commissions.
Could it be? I hope it’s true, that with a piece of what you do,
He’ll overlook the way that I’ve been acting; and He’ll not send me packing.
Then you will end up with your Host, and I won’t end up Toast.

Hello!

Creativity flourishes when it’s off the leash

No age or situation puts it out of reach

Appreciate yourself every day,

Park your anxieties and let your brain play.

We play the game that others play and must be doing it well
Our phone is ringing off the hook . . . as invitations tell

Our hair and nails have just been done; our cars are all the latest
Our house is beyond Martha, and our view . . well it’s the greatest.

Our kids have lettered every sport their scholarships will show
Our insurance keeps us free from every hazard that we know.

Slapping backs, pumping hands, and praising all the guests,
Golfing, boating, and skiing, with the people who are best.

None of this comes easy; we give it all we’ve got.
Our blessings mean so much to us; we tell God “Thanks a Lot”.

Commitment is important so when Easter comes along
We go to church and read along with the normally absent throng.

Good Will gets our castoffs; we’re nice in thought and deed
When silent auctions come along we just bid on what we need.

Our friends all think so much of us, I know that God has found
We’re using what He gave us to turn this world around.

Reunion Delights

Forget the things I once could do

All my muscles have turned to goo.

The treadmill that is now my plight

Keeps me from feeling I’ve got it right.

With kids, their babies, bills and such,

It’s no wonder I’m out of touch.

Sofa owns me at the end of the day.

Ice in the glass and I’m on my way

To letting another day wind down

Without saying hi to those around

Who made the time when we grew up

so much fun, and . . . a little corrupt.

Life’s been reeling off the spool

Since we left the ole high school.

With the little we have left

Let’s all do our very best

To find each other for all to see

And get caught up on history.

We’ll hear the pearls some have learned,

And puffed amounts that others earned.

We’ll dance and chat and carry on,

So get there early and stay till dawn.

Find out who they’ve all become

Hear the battles they have won.

Tell your stories, they’re all dears,

But don’t forget to use your ears.

Jocks and sportos, bandos too.

See the one who led you to

Believe that none could take your place

And then went on to “need their space.”

See the ones you couldn’t see

Who now can buy both you and me.

Share what you’ve been privy to,

Embellish no more than a few.

Don’t you wish it could be found

The first car you drove around?

Forget your wrinkles or what you weigh,

You’ll not have a better day.

Bring your pictures, no more than five

Watch your annual come alive.

See the influence you exerted

And the ones with whom you flirted.

You’re essential to the scenes.

There are no other human beings

Who saw the things as they went on.

“Kick” with them before they’re gone.

Acting

If God expected excellence, He completely missed the boat!

That isn’t how he wired me; my performance is a joke.

Struggling is my specialty; my skills they just aren’t there.

I cannot finish anything; I haven’t got a prayer.

What I’m “not” is really God who’s present in my lacking,

An opportunity for you to give; I hope He likes my acting.

Standing “O”

Before there was anything including space
God was wondering what to place
Into the void… and what to share
and after all, who would be there.

Plants and animals return to dust.
To keep Him company He made us,
With looks, a soul, a memory and such,
Free will, and sex; thank you very much!

On the prettiest ever seen in space,
On that blue marble we’ve been placed
To live and grow in relative bliss
in a quest for happiness.

On our plate there are things to do
and have, and eat, and show up to
and God is there us as one who’s struggling
Do you help, or stay home snuggling?

For those who get it, there is more.
They say it’s quite a long encore;
especially for those who live just so,
and make their life a Standing “O”.

Your Highest Calling

Your highest calling could be that of a friend.
The person you seem is actually pretend.
To reach the guy in the cell next to you
Your act is a roll God would like you to do.

Believe that you’re part of a much bigger plan
Trust that He’s using you, best that He can.
The way you look and how you appear
It’s how God manages to get you so near.

If your part was easy, any actor would due.
Instead of all others God’s choosing you
to change an outcome… who’d have thought?
He likes to pull strings without getting caught.

A soul is a soul, don’t sell anyone short
None better than yours; not in God’s court.
Trying your best is what you are to do,
helping whoever is there next to you.

Mention Jesus and love that He shares.
Some might feel like He’s standing right there.
What could be better than saving a soul
especially on one where life’s taken its toll?

The dude next to you had no skills or assets; no promise or resources just needs, and … well that’s it.
You’ll meet him again in the great hereafter.
He may save you … for he too is an actor.

Me and My Chablis

While chasing all the things for which I was obsessing
I didn’t thank God near enough for all my many blessins.
I cared a lot, but things I got, were ever so distracting
Too busy for my God is the way that I was acting.

Getting others close to God is now what I’m about
and helping those I find; who are really down and out.
I have no time for small gains; preaching to the choir.
Fallen, dug in, sleepers are the objects of my desire.

So this is my commercial and I hope that it is ample;
Share your faith with the world and lead with your example.
Broken souls and needy folks are opportunities God-sent
Make them dear, they’re why we’re here;
they’re how we pay our rent.

Wouldn’t it be grand if a publisher was at hand,
who printed up this poem and sent it cross the land,
so all of those who get it go out to do more good
(I’d get little credits; while I am writing “shoulds”).

Most of us are clever at finding little ways
of staying close to comforts, and continuing to play.
With me it is this poem, I’m here with my Chablis,
away from all the needy folks; the place where I should be.

My Two Year Old’s Nightmare

What joyous moments I’ve had this night

As I’ve calmed my daughter’s fright.

A blessing it was to hear her sigh

In the protection of her dad and I.

If I shift myself around

Some more comfort can be found.

Instead I nuzzle her neck and hair,

And think that she will sense I’m there.

A hint of perspiration and the great outdoors;

A fall breeze along the shore.

Too late for sleep, the sun creeps in,

Thoughts of laundry as the day begins.

Unwrapping slowly from the bed,

Silently down the stairs I tread.

How sweet, how fragile, how young she sleeps

While her parents vigil keep.

The Original Poem by Dianne Dunn

The window light suggests its not quite daytime

Yet not enough night to apply myself to sleep

My body is frozen into a position that is not quite comfortable.

It would be a simple thing, I guess, to shift myself around.

Seeing that weightlessness, snug warmth I have found.

Instead, I’ll carefully nuzzle my daughter’s hair,

She won’t wake, I hope. It’s warmth is comforting.

She sought security and warmth here between her Daddy and I.

What could have frightened her?

Is it growing up that made her sigh?

Her hair has the fragrance of outdoors with a hint of perspiration.

Reflect on the similarity between her hair and the smell of the ocean.

Not such a mystery, I guess, when you analyze.

The salt, the air, the water, and the wind.

What ponderous ideas I’m having here,

Wrapped around my child beside me dear.

Unwrapping slowly from the bed,

Silently, wordlessly, breathlessly tread,

Downstairs to write my words on paper.

Hopefully saving it for some time later.

When I can reflect on how my little daughter’s hair, one night when she needed me there,

Felt like spun moss, smelled of ocean air.

How sweet, how fragile, how young she sleeps,

While her parents vigil keep.

New Grace

Grace & Purpose

With all Your gifts and this food today

Help us live our lives Your way.

And model all that you have taught,

So in Your love more folks are caught!

Surely You must love us Lord

For giving us all this fun.

This food, this place, these friends,

And things we’ve done.

Help us use these blessings

To find and help those who

Need a hand with their life

And staying close to You

Favorite Poems of Others

Around the Corner

Around the corner I have a friend,

In this great city that has no end;

Yet days go by, and weeks rush on,

And before I know it, a year is gone,

And I never see my old friend’s face,

For Life is a swift and terrible race.

He knows I like him just as well

As in the days when I rang his bell

And he rang mine. We were younger then,

And now we are busy, tired men:

Tired with playing a foolish game,

Tired with trying to make a name.

“Tomorrow,” I say, “I will call on Jim,

Just to show that I’m thinking of him.”

But tomorrow comes–and tomorrow goes,

And the distances between us grows and grows.
Around the corner!–yet miles away . . .
“Here’s a telegram, sir . . .”

“Jim died today.”

And that’s what we get, and deserve in the end:

Around the corner, a vanished friend.

–Charles Hanson Towne

Lilly Pads

Around The Corner

I’m walking on these lily pads a precarious place to be.

They sink a bit, my feet get wet, stems slender as can be.

If I keep my eyes on His, taking one step at a time,

Each step comes more surely, but not in a straight line.

It’s His vision that compels me to take such a flimsy path,

and keeps me moving forward and trusting to the last.

That I will make a difference where a difference needs to be,

So some will end up standing strong and independently.

Their kids will get some schooling, the men learn a trade.

The women will get fellowship; good plans will then be made

Some will build a brighter future and a better community,

Some will find the way to escape their pressing dependency.

So I’m walking on these lily pads, not a path that’s tried and true,

Remembering that our prototype was a water-walker too.

-Meg Connors, 1/2003

Around the corner I have a friend,

In this great city that has no end;

Yet days go by, and weeks rush on,

And before I know it, a year is gone,

And I never see my old friend’s face,

For Life is a swift and terrible race.

He knows I like him just as well

As in the days when I rang his bell

And he rang mine. We were younger then; and now we are busy, tired men:

Tired of playing a foolish game,

Tired of trying to make a name.

“Tomorrow,” I say, “I will call on Jim, just to show I am thinking of him.”

But tomorrow comes — and tomorrow goes,

And the distance between us grows and grows.

Around the corner!–yet miles away…

“Here’s a telegram, Sir”….

“…..Jim died today.”

And that’s what we get and deserve in the end:

Around the corner, a vanished friend.

By Charles Hanson Towne

This Poem is in the Public Domain

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