Category Archives: Poetry

Peanut Butter Princess

pbprincess2
Peanut Butter Princess
with sticky-icky hands,
and 27 crowns
and twice as many fans!

Put on plastic heels,
clatter through the house,
smear peanut butter fingers
on mommy’s satin blouse.

Dance on daddy’s head
at the crack of dawn,
put lipstick on your eyebrows,
wave your hotdog wand!

And I will wear a tutu
and laugh until I cry;
My Peanut Butter Princess,
I’ll love you ‘til I die.

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Two Different Men

largeWhen I was but a youthful girl
Of four and seventeen,
I chanced upon two different men,
Whose natures were unseen.

One was handsome, tall, and dark,
With gallantry to spare,
He swept me off my feeble feet,
And made me twice as fair.

I came to know him by a word,
As we dined and danced,
For while he brought the stars to life,
I called him sweet Romance.

The other man was odd to me,
For he never left my side,
Though often I was known to gripe,
And roll my eyes and chide.

He did not lure with mystery,
Pour gifts upon my greed,
In fact at times he grew so dull
I scarcely paid him heed.

But as the days gave birth to years,
My skin came loose and gray,
And when I searched for my Romance,
He’d wandered far away.

I trembled in my lonely bed
With sickness and with fear.
“Do not cry,” a soft voice said,
“I am ever near.”

The other man stroked my face
And dried my weathered nose,
He brushed my hair with shaky hands,
He gently held me close.

“Where is the one who stole my heart,
Fierce and young and brave?
Why would he arise and leave
An old man in his place?”

With wrinkled lips he smiled and said,
“We’ve always been the same,
Both he and I were but one man
Resolved, your heart to claim.

He was grand and I was small,
When first we caught your whim,
And though I grew from day to day,
You always preferred him.

But now, my dear, as dusk draws near,
I have grown so vast,
That though he was the first to win,
It’s me who’ll be the last.”

I held his face between my hands,
I cried into his tears,
Until his old familiar touch,
Had swept away the years.

At last I knew there was one thing
That I could be sure of:
And so I whispered in his ear,
“Then I shall call thee Love.”

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The Master’s {Violent} Mercy

Island-in-a-storm[1]

I had a dream that long I sat
Upon a distant shore,
And trembled lonely in the storm,
And knew myself no more.

There was a Voice to steady me,
But I lost it in the wind.
And so I knew not who I was,
Nor who I’d ever been.

I listened to the roaring waves,
And to the sand and sea,
I let them tell me how to think,
And who I was to be.

Until I feared the sea would rise
And crush me with its spite,
And drown my hope upon the rocks,
And snuff the day to night.

I called to the Master of the Sea;
I knew that He could save.
For once upon a distant time,
He spoke to the wind and waves.

But He would not calm the raging storm,
He only held my hand,
And let it beat us bruised and bloody,
Over the calloused sand.

I fought and groaned and cursed aloud,
I wept into His face.
I judged Him for His cruelty,
I blamed His failing grace.

Then He lifted me into His arms,
And whispered, “Do not mourn.
This is not where mercy dies,
But the place that it is born.

I have not come to spare the storm
That threatens peace and health,
But to use the very storm you fear,
To save you from yourself.”

It was then I knew His endless grace,
Had come to change within,
And at the very end of me,
At last we could begin.

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Prison-Life-1

Come along,
Won’t you come with me,
Down an innocent trail.
Feast your eyes
On another man’s life,
‘Til all in your world grows pale.
Measure his days,
Number his gifts,
Weigh them against your own.
And if you should find
A life more sublime,
Then bitterly curse and moan.
But if by a chance,
Your innocent glance,
Does prove you better than he,
Then lift up your hands!
Triumphantly dance,
For the god you surely must be.

Come along,
Won’t you come with me,
You’re hungry and thirsty for more.
What about him?
Can you possibly win,
And lengthen your pitiful score?
You cannot, you mourn,
His life is adorned
With blessing and beauty galore!
You know who’s to blame?
I’ll whisper his name–
The God who’s failed you once more.
Wave your fist high!
Bellow and cry,
For my words, I promise, are true:
The God who unjustly
Blessed him so richly,
Certainly cares not for you.

Come along,
Won’t you come with me,
I can make it all right.
You need just another,
Unlucky brother,
To restore your superior height.
Look all around,
Fume now and frown,
Measure and weigh and judge,
The rules of the game
Are always the same,
And the chains, they never do budge.
Come along,
Won’t you come with me,
The view is practically free–
Just for a start,
Lend me your heart,
And all that you hope to be.

“But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice.” James 3:14-16

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Two Different Dances

Scan_Pic0001[1]You were a different
Dance than me,
When I smiled
And took your hand.
Closed my eyes
And opened my heart
To the wonders
And mysteries of man.
The dance has been long,
It’s only begun,
It’s been agonizing,
Jubilant fun.
It’s been a muddy haze,
Crystal clear,
Distant and far,
Desperately near.
Two different dances,
Twirling in time,
One lovely waltz,
Sweetly divine.
So, take my hands, darling,
Turn me again,
Promise me always,
Has yet to begin.
For this I know surely,
Wholly and true–
I could dance forever,
If only with you.

To my faithful readers–may this Valentine’s Day find you blessed with the love of Christ and the many special people He’s placed in your life!

And to my faithful husband–I love you more now than I did when this picture was taken.

The Slave and the Son

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If Ishmael was a child of flesh,
His birth an ode to bondage,
O may I be of Isaac’s seed,
Saved by the Son of promise!

For Ishmael stands daily to mock,
My weary war within.
His laugh is ready ever I fall,
To judge me a slave to sin.

But I will cling to Isaac’s God,
Whose covenant to me,
Declares that though a sinful wretch,
My soul is forever free!

O cast out the slave and her boy!
There’s not a single one,
Who stands to inherit the riches of life,
Eternally held for the son.

Galatians 4:21-31

(Painting by George Soper)

Mama’s Jingle Bells

Christmas BellsDashing through the days,
In a Civic with two kids,
O’er the shopping craze,
Cramming in what fits!
Cranky children moan,
Piling stress on me,
Oh how much I wish we owned,
A Honda Odyssey!
Oh, Christmas time, Christmas time,
Every single year,
Traffic jams and mile-long lines,
Spreading Christmas cheer, hey!
Christmas time, Christmas time,
Crafts and laughs and love,
Sticky smiles and saved Gentiles,
When Hope came from above.

A day or two ago,
I thought we’d bake some treats,
And in two hours lo,
I wished I’d skipped this feat!
And then I saw my girl,
Eight cookies in her grin,
I laughed and tossed her in the air,
For a jolly Christmas spin!
Oh, Christmas time, Christmas time,
Every single year,
Flour-y cheeks and pajama feet,
And all that I hold dear, hey!
Christmas time, Christmas time,
Three mistletoe lips to kiss,
Oh how much I’ll always love,
The moments just like this!

MERRY CHRISTMAS to my faithful followers–thanks for stopping by!

(Photo not original)