Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Posts tagged ‘travel’

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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Poems

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Pandemic Fear

Written during the Covid pandemic lockdowns.

——————————————–

We do not wander, as we were wont,
Nor visit with our brother,
Nor sisters far, embrace in arms,
For fear of causing them much harm.

Some journeys far, we cannot take,
And many meetings must forsake,
Just through a screen we sometimes meet,
When togetherness we seek.

Or walking in our neighborhood,
Six feet apart; we’re told we should.
Some friend of ours, perchance we meet,
With joy afar, we then do greet.

But what a gift we still do have,
Imagination is at hand,
All o’er the earth, and far beyond,
Imagination is our bond.

By rushing streams, we still can wander,
And mountain vales, both near and yonder,
And air so clear, takes breath away;
Still smell a wildflower bouquet.

Those friends and family that we miss,
For them we offer prayer, and kiss.
We think of them and offer prayers,
And hope that well go their affairs.

Let memory of all that’s good,
Bring us some joy, as so it should.
And bring to mind those happy times
That will return in sunnier climes.

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Poems

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Eternally Travelling

How big is the sky?
How far does it go?
And when you get there
Will there be more?

How wide is the sea?
As wide as the sky?
Or further and further,
Until it’s no more?

How vast is the land?
Does it suddenly end?
When sky, sea and land meet,
May it begin again.

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Poems

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August Silence

Thank you, God,
For the quiet of early August.
The quiet streets,
The quiet mornings;
School’s not yet started.

The quiet neighborhoods —
People gone to their cabins at Tahoe,
Or on road trips, or plane trips:
Gone to weddings (or funerals) —
Gone to see relatives.

Thank you for the cool morning air,
All the better with the silence.
But birds do sing and twitter;
I hear airplanes in the sky,
And a mother’s lullaby.

Sometimes the earth has peace,
You can drink up the silence,
You can remember childhood days
Of endless summer,
And let today be your gratitude.

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Poems

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Covered Wagon

 

A modern covered wagon,
An RV just as long.
You rent it for a fortnight,
And bring your dog along.

You’re crammed into close quarters;
Your food you have to plan.
You bump into each other,
But trav’lin’ round is grand.

Your home is your conveyance,
The road leads on and on.
Sometimes you meet new people,
Or friends who’d said, “So long!”

You learn about your nation —
Its people varied, great.
Don’t stop too long or often,
Or for your camp you’re late.

Some nights you’re almost shiv’ring,
And others, sweating lots,
But all along it’s worth it
To see fantastic spots.

So come along and travel
In RV, car, or plane,
But don’t forget to walk along
God’s glorious nature trail.

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Not as Advertised

I didn’t sign up
For this lousy trip.
First Class was promised –
“Third Class” says my ticket.

Sunny skies predicted;
It’s started to storm.
Lots of companions?
Not at all; I’m forlorn.

Friendly co-travelers?
Instead I get abuse.
A smooth, easy road?
I say, “What’s the use?”

But on the horizon
I now see a sign —
The blue skies are coming,
The happier times.

The road — It’s what you make it;
The load — It can be shared.
The weather? You can take it.
Rain or sun? — Just be prepared.

Companions or foes –
Could it be my choice?
Just listen as you travel
And hear a still, small voice.

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Poems

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The Traveler

I must go on,
For the road is long.
No matter how I think or feel,
I must go on.

I must be strong —
Still the river flows.
Where it leads; I do not know.
I must be strong.

I must keep on,
Though all seems dark.
No matter what some say or do,
I must keep on.

Though throat be parched,
Though eyes do sting,
Confusion reign or angels sing —
Remember Jesus’ suffering.

Keep on the road,
And do not fail,
Though drink be bitter, bread be stale.
To heaven’s gate I must prevail.

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Christian, Poems

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This Ship I Travel

This ship I travel, on treach’rous sea
I often wished that I could flee

I did not choose this ship of life —
Of sin, of sorrow; sadness, strife

I felt alone, though many traveled;
In darkest ignorance my life unraveled

But now and then a Light would shine
And slowly came the gift divine

I am not here for self alone
My purpose through the darkness shone

And as this ship sails on or stalls
With others do I meet life’s squalls

And I have met an Unseen Friend;
His Presence here do not contend

And if I may but save one soul
From falling, jumping in the sea

My soul will thrill, my heart will sing
‘Tis purpose done; ’tis destiny

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Christian, Hope, Poems

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Cruisin’ the Interstate

Lemons, tomatoes
Brimming over in trucks.
Big 16-wheelers
Between which we’re stuck.

Windmill propellers
Sixty feet long.
Convoy of army trucks;
Young men looking strong.

Low-riding race cars
Police were escorting.
Garlic aromas
And cattle all lowing.

Tall tandem bicycles
Built for a scream.
Cruisin’ on the highway
Was it a dream?

(2011)

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Humor, Personal story, Poems

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