Friday, April 12, 2013

The Fishing Hole


I rained so hard this morning that
traffic was a nightmare. Visibility was
about 15 feet and I was relieved when it slowed to
a crawl for once. I didn’t complain this time
 I just whispered under my breath, “Thank you, Lord”.
By afternoon the rain was gone and the sun was out
 and the only thing on my mind was…how can I sneak
out of work early and go fishing? Of course, I knew I couldn’t.
But tomorrow is Saturday and my men’s group is not meeting
at 10 so I will be up early and you know where… that’s right
The Fishing Hole.

When Waders are Wet



When waders are wet

And fly is on the tippet

Elusive brown bites

Monday, April 8, 2013

Spring has come

 
 
The chill of winter is gone
 
Fragrance fills the air
 
Cherry Blossoms are in bloom

Sunday, April 7, 2013

When Angels Cry


I heard it said the other day

that when someone dies

all the angles cry.

I couldn’t believe my ears.

There is no reason for tears

on that day; instead

it’s a day to celebrate.

 For leaving this earth and its hardship

and ascend to God’s heavenly home,

has got to be a joyous occasion;

not one of sorrow.

The devil and death I fear not,

God’s mercy and grace keep me warm.

 I implore the angles Rejoice when I die;

Rejoice for I’m coming home.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

What an almost perfect summer's day



It was a barefoot, shirtless, shorts kind of day

Creek-water mud squishing between our toes

The rope swing dangling from the tall oak tree

Inviting us to swing around-the-world if we pleased

What an almost perfect summer’s day

 

After hours of playing make-believe

Cowboys and Indians and Pirates were we

It was time to head home to dinner

And T.V.  This we all could agree

What an almost perfect summer’s day

 

It was then that I saw him emerge from the trees

He stood by the creek bank and beckoned to me

“Would you mind staying behind? Take photos with me?”

All this he asked with a smile. “It won’t take long. You’ll see”.

What an almost perfect summer’s day

My world was baseball and marbles and climbing trees

And running and jumping and catching bees

These things I knew and I knew them well

But nothing I knew of photograph

What an almost perfect summer’s day

 

There are times I wish I were sick that day

Or  being punished and not allowed out to play

But we can not go back nor change what’s been done

We can only forgive and forget and with God’s grace move on

What an almost perfect summer’s day

 

Friday, April 5, 2013

The Wall

 


It has taken a while, but I finally went to see you.

Not physically, that’s impossible, but in spirit, as

I look at your name on that Black Marbled Wall. I was told

that you died over there. They didn’t tell me till a year or so

 after I returned for fear of how I would take it.

 I didn’t take it well. And when I went to our 25th  High School Reunion

and saw your name on the program under posthumous,  I didn’t

take that well,either. Have never gone to another one since.

I found Al that day on the wall while I was there.

You didn’t know Al. He and I were bunker buddies

in Khe Sanh. We used to sneak up to the supply depot at night,

stopping by the Med Unit first to grab a stretcher, and grab

boxes of supplies, never knowing what we had till

we got back to our bunker and opened them up. Everyone

would come by and we would share our bounty with them.

Al didn’t make it.

He died on some forgotten hill. I have to tell you,

I’m still afraid to look for any guys I left behind. I guess in my mind

I’d rather think that they got back to the World like I did,

got married, raised a family and are looking to retire soon,

move to Florida and spend their days fishing. I know you would

have had plans much the same. I tell you what brother,

when I get there I promise I will put a rod out for you and Al

and open a beer or two.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

The Huntress




With patience the feline waited,

not moving a muscle or hair.

Poised in silence she hunkered,

awaiting her labors to bare.

 Time passed without any answer,

steadfast she lie near and low.

Awaiting that one special moment,

claws sharpened and eager to go.

 Spying the hole in the floorboard,

now knowing her prize was near.

The huntress moved ever so swiftly,

as velvet-gray ears did appear.

 With speed like a bolt of lightning,

she leaped and harpooned her prey.

For lunch that day it was eaten,

after three quarter hours of play.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

If Only I Were A Mermaid


 

It could only have happened by chance that we would meet

out there in the wide open blue. It was the last day of my vacation

and I wanted to spend it alone. I never could have imagined

how un-alone I would be that day.

I must admit that when I first saw you I was frightened

by your size and awesome power. But as you drew nearer

I knew that you had as much respect for me as I had for you.

It was then that I wished that I was a Mermaid.

I was amazed at how you moved with such grace in the water, and

I tried to mimic each move you made; some successful; most not. Then

you held out your arms before me, as if to say you needed a hug.

God only knows I did.

I managed to get close enough to touch you then you allowed me

to grab your dorsal fin and the adventure began.

We swam together for hours, and thought you didn’t have to come up for air,

as much as I did, you would surface long enough for me to grab

a hurried lung full. You showed me so much that day

and I felt like a welcomed guest in your home. It broke my heart

when I had to leave you and I know you felt the same for when I got to shore

I look back and you were still there.

And I thought I saw your pectoral fin waving at me but it was getting dark and

I had water in my eyes. Then you leaped magnificently into the air

and disappeared. Thank you my friend.

You taught me a lot that day but most importantly

the true meaning of freedom.

(For Dustin, may all her dreams come true) 

 

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Swollen Creek




The rain had stopped that afternoon and

we begged to go out to play.

Stern warnings were given, “Do not go near the creek

for it is surly swollen”.

Darn, we cried, that was where all the adventures were,

frogs & tadpoles & dragonflies & the rope swing,

but we obeyed.

Suddenly, there came a cry for help.

Harry, they said, had gotten to close

and fallen into the swollen creek. All ran to see or help.
Mothers holding their children tight.

Though some had tried to save him,

the current was too swift

and in the end the only outstretched arm to grab him

held him under till his last breath.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Goodbye Old Friend


I remember the day that I met you

I was 7 years old and my dad said you had to be at least 80

though, it was hard to tell. From the start we formed

a bond that lasted all the way into my young adult life.

That was when I left you to pursue other adventures…

military, war, travel, employment, marriage and children, but

throughout that time I never forgot the adventures we shared together.

During my journeys I would find others like you and try

to experience that same kind of bond that we had back then

but to no avail.

 Many were as tall and strong as you, but

they could never live up to you in my eyes. One day

I was in your area and thought I would look you up. I had my son with me and

wanted to introduce him to you. He’d heard all the stories

of the adventures we had together and was anxious to see you. As we pulled up

I got out of the car and I had to steady myself

and clear my vision. I couldn’t believe

what had happened to you in those years

that we had been separated. All our times together flashed before my eyes

then I heard my son say, “Hey, there’s just a big old stump there.

Dad, why are you crying?”