He dabs and bows his head, a dapper chap who cheeps about each day to twit and feed. He flaunts, and hops and leaves without a map. – Some weeks it seems he left or took a nap. But soon as hope he pops around for seed, and dabs and bows his head: a dapper […]
Read more "The Dabbler"Forge-created, etched in image fair. Heated, glowing, pounded down in place: form and likeness of the royal heir – Payed in secret and in open air. Merchants nod to see the well-known face: forge created, etched in image fair. – Jostle carried; through the open square a group of scholars clustered, in a space: the […]
Read more "Etched"Oh, the splendor of the Son, bowing in the midnight shade— Your will, not mine, be done. With the lights of supper gone, He faced the dark and prayed. Oh, the splendor of the Son. Freely, tears began to run as His purpose weighed. Your will, not mine, be done. The perfect […]
Read more "The Splendor of the Son"While I can never claim to equal Dylan Thomas’s powerful poem, I have long felt there should be a Christian counter to it. This, then, is my answer to “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.” – Do not to raging into that bright day, for death will collapse and burn at close of […]
Read more "Do Not Go Raging Into That Bright Day"The path forks off and goes another way, nor you nor I know where the trail will trend. It leads up high into the misty grey. – And full of ardor, friends line up to say that they will join our journey to ascend the path that forks and goes another way. – But curving […]
Read more "Mountain Trails"
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