Screaming Red

Screaming Red

Screaming red

Echo shore

What he said

Poe no more.

RWOz2

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A 39th Birthday Poem

A 39th Birthday Poem

Today the clocks stop
And the calendars freeze
And those chaps down in Greenwich
Can all take their ease.

Leastways, as concerning
This most recent rage
The topic? – Let’s drop it!
No more of my age.

No more to grow older
Why I simply refuse!
I have plenty things else
About which to amuse.

So remember –
As Father Time passes
   With gifts on his plate
Wrinkles and lines
   And gray hair for your pate
Just say, ‘No thank you!
  ‘I’ll not have any more.’
And know you can do it
  Check your Jack Benny lore.

RWOz2

Mother’s Day poem

Mother's Day

Today’s a day
Like any other
The sun will shine
The birds will sing

But this day
Not like any other
We set aside
To sing your praise

For your strength
For your wisdom
For your love
We thank you now

All these things
You give your family
Every day
Come rain or shine

Now we rise and
Call you blessed
And I’m grateful
You are mine.

RWOz2

I Know

I Know

I know
Thy Word is living
And speaking
“Follow Me.”

I know
That by Thy Truth
I am set free
To be
All You meant me to be

I know
Thy Spirit quickens
And meets my every need
All I need do is ask
And You give
Boldness for any task

I know
That You know me
And I have no higher desire
Than to live my days before
The eyes of Holy Fire

And with those similarly viewed
Laying claim to the same insight
By the hope that purifies imbued,
Cleansed that we may be light.

RWOz2

All Hail Eloise

 

All Hail Eloise

As they say in the movies, the following is based upon a true incident (and as you can see by the amounts and the mention of Cub Foods [i.e. Winco] this was back in 1991):

Let us sing of my pure one –
Famous in battle
Let us take up her praise upon our lips
For ’tis fitting that we praise –
Our lips and not her own.

With firm and measured tread
She takes the Safeway, the Thriftway
The thronging CUB food aisle
Swiftly to the fray she sweeps
Where each combatant must join the list
Against the exacting foe.
(All buttoned and be-ribboned
Anxious to take its toll)
With each stroke of the infernal engine
The cents into dollars count
Pressing hard ‘gainst the family purse and budget
As to the skies they mount
Thirty-seven point eighty blink the lights azure
Thirty-seven dollars and eighty cents
A princely sum that’s sure
Yet is her brow disturbed?
-No! There is only more resolve.
For her weapons this moment sheathed
Leap out at the total called.

And 37.80 ceases flashing
From its lofty height it tumbles down.
First fifty cents are taken off
Then six dollars in a lump
Double the sum of forty
As the coupons fall like trump
The total is hacked in half
And as the haze is cleared away
Another sixth is shorn
The total mortifies in rigor at 13.64

All hail Eloise
As she leaves the field
The victor undisputed
All hail Eloise
Her booty gained
In battle well-reputed.

RWOz2

Hands of the Living God

Temptation of St Anthony by H Bosch

Sinner before the Lord’s tribunal
Held in the Hands of the living God
For the Lord’s not just judge but witness
To all your years as you trod the sod

Not summoned before a peer-made jury
But to face all alone His hell bound fury
Perhaps you think it’s all been fated
Kept in the Hands of the living God

Hanging uneven ‘tween hell and Heaven
What would tip the scales to bring them even?
With what now can they be freighted?
Held by the Hands of the living God

With breath in silence bated
Not even a single wrong unstated
Know you not
The judge who passes sentence
Whose final word is final law
No longer waits for you
To take stock of what you’ve done

What will be the final decision
Was it His or was it yours all along
When you crawled from the Hands of the living God

RWOz2

My Pure One

my-pure-one

My pure one

How I love your name
And the warmth it breathes o’er me
Yet I must confess
I am more enchanted
By your name second-given

Not the name of a barmaid – No!
But the all knowing choice
Of a wise father king
For his princess second-born
My fair Eloise

Eloise – in battle famous
Though to you it may bring a blush
At its echo – angels hush…
And lean nearer…
Waiting…
Hopeful

To be caught up in the music elven-made
Rising from some sylvan glade
In anviled notes of silver laughter
Whispering in my ear
In the silence after
The name of
Ma chère Eloise.

RWOz2