To put one season of the year above the rest,Many of you think that Autumn is the best.Subjective logic likely will come into play;Though I believe it’s simply in your DNA.For this is Harvest time—the “bringing in the sheaves.”The whole year’s effort then is seen, and no one grieves.Then preparation
A situation in which God must interveneTo have it be as you would have it seenIs not so rare in life as you may choose to think, Or not believing that there can be such a link.We muse about our Guardian Angels, like as not,As harmless fantasies, no actual credence
Logic may well be a word not logical at all;Take, for instance, life forms on which all our food chains fall.Logic says they have been out there to provide a mealFor specific other life forms to consume with zeal.But, what is not logical, is how and why each oneIs so
It was a time so many years ago;But still I wonder why I let you go.I caused the break itself, that much is true,To you occurring right out of the blue.I cannot say the memory is bad,But, rest assured, it doesn’t make me glad.The more I ponder, (for the mood
Just look at you. Where have you been?And don’t give me that silly grin.How can you get so dirty quick?—Whatever dirt you touch must stick.My goodness, you are such a sight,They wouldn’t know that you were white.Okay, upstairs, get in the tub.I’m sure, this time, you’ll have to scrub.And that
What matters most in life? You find you’ve not a clue.You struggle with the question; what else can you do?The more you ponder, seemingly there’s but one call—There is no easy answer; maybe none at all.The Bible says it’s love, and that you must include,But there remains the fact, love
It’s hard to grade intelligence, its worth;But that is what we try to do from birth.A figure, by itself, is always found;But often now with walls in which it’s bound.Like this: What good is it if it’s not used?How can we tell if that is not accused?Is that how we
No wonder we are all screwed up—Insisting life’s a half-filled cup.Half-filled, half-empty, it’s the same,But that’s not how we play the game.We say half-filled is better, yetIt’s still half-empty on a bet.The connotation is, of course,One side is smooth, the other coarse,One side is bright, the other dim,One side is
We are dependent on our ears to hear;As one of the five senses, it’s a gift.A most essential facet, that is clear;In giving every life form needed lift.But human life is one of constant sound,And much of that does not endanger life,At least, not imminently, so we have foundThat we
Too many people of today read historyThe way or ways that they’d prefer to have it read.Take Thomas Jefferson, for instance, all they seeIs …he owned slaves, and made no move to have them freed,When others, like George Washington, were freeing theirs.But that mind-set is neither accurate nor fair;And here
Before we had a stated Independence Day,Most colonists had felt and lived it in a way.Our war for Independence was our means to sayWe would not let our Liberty be done away.So then, once it was law, what did we strive to do?What kind of path would we, a nation,
In an assessment of yourself, take care;No mater who or what you think you are.Most likely you will hedge on being fair,No way would be lowering the bar.So call it ego, or your sense of pride,You always build yourself up, if you can.There are those who are better, you abide;But
If I had never seen a cloud-filled sky,To watch as images evolved, to plyImagination’s realms; if I had missedThese reveries so pleasing to the eyeHow could I know that they in fact exist?Once seen in Nature, no one could deny—Compared to sight—words hardly satisfy.And neither could you just presume to
Father’s Day! A biological necessity.Vital in the forward progress of humanity.Hopefully to go beyond ability to sire,Being to that child or children one who will inspire,Leading, guiding, with stability to lean uponJustifying all the heights that we put fathers on.Meaning that to he or she or them you are their
As June 14th is Flag Day, take the time to pause;Though not a holiday, as such, it’s just as proud.Old glory is our Colors—there’s no better causeTo show that you’re American, who stands unbowed.The Stars And Stripes is part of our identity,As it has stood the test of time through
“Hats off! The flag is passing by.”That used to be the old familiar cry. cry.It made us feel good, that’s the bottom-line;Although just why we’d struggle to define.Old Glory simply was a part of us;It never was a topic to discuss.It told us who we were, each time anew;No need
We tend to want to see each day a certain way;Certainly not, in any way, a shade of Grey.Most always, though, that greyness shall be preconceived;What you expect to see, easy enough believed.The trouble is, that preconception drags you down,So you will start your average day there with a frown.What
I’m sorry, but I feel that I do not belong;Of course, I’m hoping—really hoping—that I’m wrong.You seem to be a nice group—easy enough to please,And I could get quite used to loving care, with ease.But, being who I am, I don’t like being fooled,So first I must make sure my
Saturday, May 17 “I pledge Allegiance” I most openly declare;That phrase is THE commitment all of us should share.I understand this also—freedom is not free!Demanding vigilance as well from you and me.So here we praise the military, long and loud,To all of them, we emphasize, “You make us proud!”On their
So if I wave, will you wave back?I mean, you’re white and I am black.Would you just walk on by, quite grave,Pretending not to see me wave?The seat next to me on the trainIs empty, as commuters gain.The seat stays empty. Why is that?Do you think you’d be forced to
