Some Short Selections

This first poem paints a picture of my life when I was around ten years old. (Even now, this still describes me at heart.)

  To Combat Summer’s Boredom

A boy of ten plays in a field.

A battered stick he seems to wield.

It is a sword, a bow, a spear.

He fights a foe that is concealed.

He battles and he shows no fear,

Though goblin cries he seems to hear.

He is not crazy or insane,

And yet he fights and is sincere.

What is this world that he can feign

E’en as the daylight starts to wane?

Imagination is its name,

And he, its king, will always reign.

He now is sweating from his game,

For he has played since dawn first came.

Amusement is his only aim,

That summer’s boredom he may tame.

Slightly Bored

I sit without much else to do

But write a rhyming verse or two.

Ideas of what to write are few—

It seems my muse has missed his cue.

Are muses male? I’m not quite sure.

I guess they can be him or her.

Oh well! Whatever. I don’t care.

I’m rambling? Yes, I’m quite aware.

The problem is I've naught to say,

But I’m still writing anyway.

I’ll likely stop about right now.

(What rhymes with now? Oh! How ‘bout “wow!”)

A Free Man’s Thanks

They fight in countries not their own,

They die on land not theirs;

But seeds of freedom they have sown

Throughout their grave affairs.

They leave a mighty legacy,

These women and these men

Who rule the skies and roam the sea;

On land they work to win.

They give their time and very lives

That we may live so free.

I hope that praise and thanks survive

In you as now in me.

Road of Destiny

I walk along a changing road

On which all human beings go.

What lies ahead I do not know,

Except the end—my Lords abode.

As I march to my Savior fair,

I see behind, but not ahead;

And so in faith I’m forced to tread,

Believing God will lead me there.

And with this faith, I am set free

From worry, doubt in actions all

For God will catch me if I fall

Along this road of destiny.

     Armed and Dangerous

I hop inside my car, but then

A thought comes to my head:

My actions in this vehicle

Could leave somebody dead.

And keys, like one now in my hand

Are weapons that we wield.

They kill as many, possibly,

As soldiers on the field.

This humbling thought is true for all

Especially for me;

And we do well to think on this

Before we turn the key.