Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category

The Double J

[I didn’t intend this as a “country music” type poem,
but it ends up sounding like that. This is a real place
where I love to go with my husband.]

Come on down to the Double J Cafe!
The people are friendly, and the grub is great.

The lady at the counter says “How do you do?”
“The special we have is made just for you.”

There’s a fire burnin’ on a wintry night,
Gas, not wood, but it still feels right.

No TVs blaring, no ads on a screen,
Just the radio playin’; a happy scene.

The food is delicious, even cheesecake.
The man in the cowboy hat had a slice to take.

They’re not open daily, just four days a week,
And if family’s sick, they have a bad streak.

Just feels like home, from long ago.
And they play the old songs, with 60s tempo.

It’s probably all just an innocent dream,
In cities, people murdered, while politicians scheme.

But I still think that heaven is a place where there’ll be
Good food, warmth, and laughter, and a grand happy scene. 

[Epilogue: Sadly, the restaurant closed about midway through 2023. The owners had run the business for about 40 years, in at least two locations. They will be sorely missed!]

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Reality

I’d love to play all of a day
And dance on sunlit lawns,
But somehow light begins to dawn,
Or shall I say, the sunset comes?

I’d love to sing the glorious songs
And soak in beauteous tones,
But then, alas, reality,
Tells me that duty calls.

I’d love to read a book all day
Or sit by warming fire,
But others call upon my help,
And some – their needs are dire.

The truth, it seems, or partly so,
Is dishes, toilets, mold, and floors,
The cooking, baking, and bed making.

And don’t forget the many tasks
That little ones and spouses ask.

But one can dream, and may it be
That both can be reality,
And even at one time.

Hard work and toil —
And bounteous joy.

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We Will Go Home

[Note: I have tried for YEARS to write a decent poem in iambic pentameter, with no success. Then this one just HAPPENED. There’s no telling how the muse will strike.]

We will go home, we will go home at last.
No crying then, and all our sorrows past.
All will be well, our wounds and traumas done —
The world so bright, like unto twenty suns.

And then we’ll know, yet couldn’t see it here,
That all our troubles, hardships, and our fears,
Were but a flash, a drop in ocean vast —
Were only tests and trials, meant not to last. 

And then we’ll see (but didn’t seem so then) —
The suff’ring woe of women and of men
Was worth it all — for what we were to gain,
Outshines, like sun, the candle of our pain.

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God’s Dwelling

I saw the lofty clouds,
Like mountains piled high.
I wondered if the angels,
Or God, were dancing there.
And then the thunder rolled,
A wave of sound; God speaking there.

I saw the real mountains,
The jagged cliffs, with snow adrift,
Their fearsome heights created
By a holy God — And who can tell
If He does not there dwell?

But He’s not bound by earth or sky;
Perhaps He’s in a lullaby,
Or in a spouse’s kiss; He’s ne’er amiss.
To know His love is awe and bliss.

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WRITING A POSTCARD

“Wish you were here” can be trite but true.
Writing a postcard means I thought of you.
But it could mean more — 
Will you believe that’s true?

I’m wishing you the quiet 
Of a warm September night,
I’m wishing you the rest and hope
Of a life with burdens light.

I’m wishing that — you find your dreams,
A childlike faith, some innocence returned,
New horizons, happy schemes,
And healing — if your heart’s been burned.

If there’s a way to give my self,
To help another’s life have peace,
Lord, let me find it, then I’ll be
Myself unburdened, truly free.

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TIME

Time —
How do we use it?
Do we abuse it?

Going west, you gain some,
Going east, you lose some,
But it’s all how you use some.

Don’t waste it in hate, anger, or blame,
Worry, fear, feeling a victim, or shame —
The time given is the same.

And if there’s time that you’ve wasted,
Seek forgiveness — freedom tasted.

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Fear of the storm

[Have faith, not fear.]

A cloudy day, the sun does rare appear;
It changes moods, exacerbates one’s fears.
A storm shall come; calamitous will be;
All swept away, all lost what once was dear.

And then a break, a crack in grayish wall
Soon widens; blue sky comes out after all.
Until next time, when storm shall truly fall,
Keep hope alive; and pray calamity shall stall.

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I Hang by a Thread

I hang by a thread, on the edge of a steep precipice;
I am weak and vulnerable.
Yet the Lord will rescue and deliver me.

I sit in the dark, not understanding;
I suffer from blindness.
Yet the Lord will bring His light.

I don’t know His plan for me,
Yet He said He has one.
So I hang in the dark, hoping and trusting.

“He who has begun a good work in you
Will bring it to completion
On the day of Jesus Christ.”
(Philippians 1:6)

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With Broken Heart and Contrite Sigh

With broken heart and contrite sigh
A trembling sinner, Lord, I cry:
Thy pardoning grace is rich and free
O God, be merciful to me.

I smite upon my troubled breast,
With deep and conscience guilt oppressed;
Christ and His cross my only plea:
O God, be merciful to me.

Far off I stand with tearful eyes,
Nor dare uplift them to the skies;
But Thou dost all my anguish see:
O God, be merciful to me.

Nor alms, nor deeds that I have done,
Can for a single sin atone;
To Calvary alone I flee:
O God, be merciful to me.

And when, redeemed from sin and hell,
With all the ransomed throng I dwell,
My raptured song shall ever be,
God has been merciful to me.

[A hymn by Cornelius Elven, 1852, public domain]

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Why Do You Fear?

John 20:13-18
Why do you weep,
Oh woman, why do you weep?
Because they’ve taken my Lord,
And I don’t know where they’ve laid Him.
But, when Jesus said to her, “Mary,”
She knew Him and went rejoicing to tell others.

Luke 24:5-12
Why do you seek,
Oh women, why do you seek
The living among the dead?
He is not here, but has risen.
So they rushed back
From the tomb and
Told everyone else
What had happened.

Acts 1:11-14
Why do you gaze,
Oh men of Galilee, why do you gaze
Up to the heavens?
This Jesus will come again from heaven
In the same way that you saw Him go.
So they returned to Jerusalem
And were constantly united in prayer.

Luke 12:32
Why do you fear,
Oh little flock, why do you fear?
For it is your Father’s good pleasure
To give you the kingdom.
So let us trust and obey
The One who loves us.

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