POEMS BY MEMBERS
AFTER COURTING PLUTONIUM
Nathan RossHe
pledges his vows with a
“Cough!” and a “Cough!”
She vows with a
“Tick, tick, tick . . .”
He takes her to the sky,
to the desert,
to eternity,
on a plane,
on their
honeymoon.
He saves millions by his
love,
his death and their marriage.
The flirtation begins
as quickly as it ends.
All ends with a romantic
explosion.
VALENTINE DAY
Patsy Colter
Oh the love we feel for each other,
we express with a card on this day.
Special love between a man and a woman,
God surely had planned it this way.
The wonderful love of a close friend,
is precious and dear to our heart.
Someone to share all of our troubles,
to listen is somewhat an art.
There’s a friend we don’t send a card to,
and we don’t say thanks enough
But He’s always ready to listen.
It’s our loving Savior above.
SWEET WILLIAM
Steven Penticuff
Yesterday I watched you
devour a Cornish game hen
when you thought no one was
looking: you made the hyenas
I saw on Wild Kingdom
as a child look like kittens.
And it was obvious then
I wanted you to be the
father of my children--I hope
you understand--so I made
inquiries about your name
and place of residence.
Forgive me, but
your movements were so raw,
so tender--it's hard to explain--
and finally your lips caressed
the peaches that you must
have been saving till last
and which were probably
still cool to the touch.
My sweet William,
I will never be the same,
and really this is all
just to say that you will not
find a more willing or devoted
woman anywhere.
PERSPECTIVE
Diane
Auser Stefan
I am a lump of coal
a speck of dust, a grain of sand,
and though I seem insignificant,
I was created by God’s hand.
I may not discover helpful
cures
or dance or politic or sing –
but when God’s love burns in my heart,
just watch me do my thing!
I cannot sit like a coal
lump,
just waiting to catch a spark –
I’ve got to let my heartfire burn
so I can make my mark.
ARGUMENT FOR CREMATION
Valerie Esker
No worm’s apple
Will I be,
But purified
By cleansing fire.
On Aprils' breeze
I'll freely soar
By Eagles' side
Past churches' spires,
As mote aloft,
Then sail to sea . . .
Creations' bride
In natures' choir!
Thus, I'll meet
Eternity.
Ah, no worm’s apple
Will I be!
TELLING AND FORETELLING
Harding Stedler
I cannot walk with wind
in dark recesses of winter nights.
The geese are squawking,
warning me of meteors
poised to streak to Earth
and swallow whole
the Aztec ruins of New Mexico.
The evil tone in which
this wind ensnares its prey
foretells the return of dinosaurs
and piracy at sea.
Its eerie tone denies me sleep.
The vigilant watch I keep
is in self-defense,
and the matches I strike
preserve the light
that ward off evil demons.
THE STONE Jean Even
The Stone, the Stone, a rare find,
Despised, rejected, and murdered;
A precious Stone, tried and true,
Fit to be a King for all mankind.
O happy day when He became
The head cornerstone for us all.
How wonderful and marvelous
It is to have a King for our souls.
Come to me, dear Stone of
God.
Reject me not within my shame,
Only help me to grow my fruit
Into a precious soul for a King.
NO WONDER Pat Durmon
Fifty miles north of Little
Rock,
the freshly charred fields
smoke and steam in the mid-day sun
like the river mist of dawn.
The scorch of the wheat stubble
dares to drench the highway air.
But unlike the waft of skunk
or paper mill, I lean into the smell.
All evening, I hold the sharp scent
close, knowing it reminds me
of a distant past—a father
firing off the ditch bank
and a mother scratching the earth
with a rake.
No wonder
I look forward to raking and burning
the leavings from the garden.
GUIDING LIGHT Velvet Fackeldey
From my back porch at night
I see the airport light
winging across the sky,
leaping from cloud to cloud
like a crazed UFO.
A modern lighthouse
guiding navigators of the air
through fog or storm,
the bright sweep comforts me.
I am anchored and safe,
no rocks to ambush me,
as I journey in my dreams
on my porch.
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JILTED
Faye Adams
My love and I were
fused together as one,
or so I thought.
The wedding was to be
"social event of the year,"
or so I thought.
Our life together would
be heaven on earth,
or so I thought.
He eloped with that
hussy down the street,
the devious cad.
On my wedding day,
I baked a chocolate pie
and ate the whole thing!
TRYING TO WRITE WITH A CAT IN MY LAP
Pat Laster
She stretches,
sticks a paw on the paper,
yawns,
continues
her ubiquitous
purring.
She claws at my pen
as I write to the paper's edge.
(I draw
around her paw.)
I hate
to disturb us
but I must write
tomorrow's column
and decide
what
to submit
to the contest.
THE LONELY TRAVELER
Henrietta Romman
Quiver, quiver
little quill
blown by God's
scented breeze,
dancing through
towers
and trees,
swaying past
the blossoming
bough,
the falling
snow.
Quiver, quiver
little quill,
unmoved by
the owl cry
in the still
night, drawn
to share
the gentle
breath
of dawn,
to resume
your happy flight
as part of His universe.
NO NEWS IS
NOT GOOD Laurence Thomas
I don’t know which is
worse--not hearing
about a misstep on the porch, the bad wheezing,
because they don't want me to cut my trip short--
or returning to wish they had told me.
They’ve had my accounts and
pictures
of mountain trips: the peaks and valleys
and fellow travelers I've befriended,
arriving according to postal idiosyncrasies.
I know what they know,
which makes it worse,
the telephone not ringing, no letters
even with innocent news of picnics and visits.
They didn’t make much fuss when father died.
HOUSEWARMING Gwen
Eisenmann
Come in! There is a
welcome waiting here
that grew, as did this house, in winter sun
and rain, with wishes for a shelter near
old friends, old longings long ago begun.
A house up high uplifts the traveler's eye
and gives a view o'er which a spirit soars
to see the Earth around. The eagle's cry
will mingle with intent within these doors.
We build our sanctuaries all enclosed
but space enclosed is room for resonance
where souls can shout, where secrets here disclosed
can harmonize our human dissonance.
The blessing in the welcome here today
is what we bring and what we take away.
SORTING OUT EDEN
Mark Tappmeyer
"She also gave
some to her husband, who was with her,
and he ate it." Genesis 3:6
Acording to
the garden art
we view,
Adam's face
when new
was beardless
and confused
over God's hundred
converse acts
that singularly
seemed true,
like forbidding
a toxic plant
but not the brunette
who made him pant.
A PILGRIMAGE FROM BURDENS
David Van Bebber, Jr.
I
wrestle in the dark with a friend I cannot find.
Stirring, I rise from this cot to my feet.
My heartbeat fades, and I breathe in deeply
to disperse this fleeting fear.
Surrounded by solitude, I stumble through this fog
to find my shoes and jacket.
I leave
my apartment to enter the street, and rest.
In my head plays the most requested radio song ever,
but the world lies silent under its comfortable black sheet.
I find rest in the steady pace I keep.
A new friend meets me on this journey.
My friend makes his way through the loneliness
to a destination where only he can go.
Bringing a lullaby to this weary wandering,
sweetly singing me to rest.
BELATED VALENTINE
Tom Padgett
This woman who lies sleeping in my bed
remembers every thing I've done and said
and smiles with me at what we call our life,
admitting publicly at times she is my wife.
Our wedding pictures
hanging in the hall
have aged till they don't look like us at all.
That handsome lad that used to use my name
has slipped somehow and doesn't fit the frame.
That pretty girl matured
and grew with grace
accustomed to my customary face
and babied me. For me she scraped, she toiled
to prove again the victor gets the spoiled.
What if she mumbles now so
I can't hear
and must repeat each word to make it clear
that I have done another foolish thing
we'll laugh about when it has lost its sting?
She's stayed with me
through bad times and through worse
until I've sunk to this--I'm writing verse.
What's more: she's mothered three, grandmothered nine--
so if she snores, she's still my valentine! VISIT WORKSHOP FOR AN
ASSIGNMENT.
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