A Hole In One

Out he went with his dream to make the changes

And strapped to his waist was the old 45.

The star he wore was made of tin but his heart was gold

And from that heart his dream stayed alive.

But on that day when the sun stood still and the birds ceased their song

He drew that old black powder Colt a millisecond too long.

Oh it discharged a chunk of lead alright, about 250 grain,

But after one small ricochet it landed in his brain.

The whole town mourned for weeks and weeks o’er the grave up on boot hill,

“Here lies the man with heart of gold, and head with leaden pill.”

He may have been right you know, his heart and all that stuff,

But being the fastest draw in the West does not mean you’re so tuff.

He should made the ones he loved a safe place for to lodge,

Instead he spent his days in the sheriffs office in the the city they call “Dodge”.

Dodge he did, all his life, the bullets, cursings, kids and wife.

He was was known for keeping law, but his home was always absent, “Paw”.



Feathers & Petals

Can the cardinal be a jay?  Would he want to anyway?

Then why does man in the image of God, treat his heritage so odd?

He is not pleased to wed one wife, nor lead a thankful, fruitful life.

Instead his goals so hedonistic, takes something so divine, simplistic,

And turns his love for one another to covetous-hatred for his brother.

The cities that could shine with pride have caught mans’ cancer and hence died,

Replaced by tribes who steal and kill, yet never-ever get their fill

Of satisfaction.  Tell me what is your reaction?

Observe the birds who never strive, but always seem to stay alive.

Their feathered beauty taken for granted is some of the best upon this planet.

And see the flower in the grass, it never worries about race or caste,

Though often overlooked by man, is as fragrant and colorful as it can

Ever want or hope to be.  No it is not like you and me.

The solution that restores the nations, is worship Creator not creation.

Though He’s made this wonderful place, we have forgotten to seek His face,

And while we pray and make demands – to get the blessings from His Hands,

We seldom recognize our place, like birds and flowers who know His grace.



King of Orphans

In the smile of a child, on the sunset clouds, beneath the shaded tree,

You will find it there.

In the first dandelion, with the twin fawn whitetails, and the call of an owl,

It surprises you every time.

In the quiet of the new-fallen snow, the trickling stream and fields waving in the wind:

Evidence of the Creator.

We credit every athlete, artist and musician with their amazing skill,

Yet the One who knew them before their conception gets little credit

From the capstone of His creation: man.

Willful orphans who run from their Father, Who waits at the end of the lane for

their return, refuse to be identified with His majestic sweetness,

And trade their eternal birthright for a day’s worth of soup.

Failing to see Him, acknowledge Him, seek Him, He did the one thing that just might

capture our attention: He became a man.

Walking among us we discovered there was no room for Him on our throne,

Threatened by His holiness, we hung Him on a tree to die.

He forgave us before His last dying breath.

He bought you back.  Will you come home?




I Don’t Feel Like Writing


I don’t feel like writing today,

Most won’t read this anyway,

So this is what I have to say:

Put your dentures on display,

Feed your walrus a bale of hay,

Spell your name with 40 k’s,

Pick your teeth an unusual way,

Work 50 hours without pay,

And make the last line way too long for enjoyment & be sure it doesn’t rhyme.

Beyond the Screen Door



Beyond the screen door there’s much to be explored,

My little dog anticipating her chance to be deplored.

Still I have not decided if I should go out there

For I find a place of comfort right here upon this chair.

Upon my leg she stands staring at me with those eyes,

Whining, spinning and grumbling about a rabbit she has spied.

How often we were going out and the weather was severe

She had no intentions of moving for a thunderstorm was near.

But now a furry rodent has trespassed on her land

And it’s obviously imperative she have the upper hand.

So up I go to leave her out but what would you have thunk:

The little furry rabbit turned out to be a skunk!