Tiny yellow toad
Poised on big green foliage—
Beautiful. Deadly.

Tornado churning.
Twirling against peaceful skies -
Destructive touchdown.

Bravo to Toys for Tots
For giving Kids a lift:
With smiles and a dream,
They grant the tots a gift.

With hope and a hug,
And whate’er means they could,
We see them reaching out,
As 'compassion' would.

Bravo to Toys for Tots…
Faithfully there each year
Making dreams come true;
Showing that they care.

Faith is
A sure umbrella
Protecting from the storm
And rain of a fickle existence.

Soul wandering in
The rain, outwardly soaked—but
Inwardly is dry.

Now here we have the sweetest tale.
Nearing the end of life,
Residing at a nursing home…
A husband and his wife.

When she grew sick and nigh to death
He’d visit her each day.
But then he, too, would fall quite ill,
Somehow, along the way.

Therefore he moved to where she was,
Still clinging to his bride.
And when she made her transition,
He was there by her side.

It was just five minutes later
He too would slip away.
For, by fate, they left together
On that—their final day.

Spectators were mesmerized
By the enchanting view
Of an ocean swell
‘Pon the infinite horizon.
They watched in euphoria,
Ecstatic by the charming phenomenon
That captivated with joy.

I have
Walked with God ‘pon
The Mountaintops. I’ve walked
With Him mid the bright sunshine and
Wild blooms.

And I’ve
Walked with my God
Thro’ deep valleys, spite the
Shadow of death that loomed. I walk
With God.

Hazy moon on a misty night,
Keeping the dim skies clear and bright
Amidst the raindrops—soft and light.
This, somehow, seems to be all right.

Yonder like a chivalrous knight
Hangs the moon at a distant height.
A most serene and gorgeous sight—
Filling the fancy with delight.

All-wise Creator. God aright.
Endow such watchman of the night
To faithfully shine with his might.
And bar the dark, which lords o’er fright.

I’ve heard lots ‘bout Bitcoin
But don’t know what it is.
So, I’ve begun a research
To follow up the biz.

Bitcoin must mean something,
Tho’ the term sounds strange.
Does it replace the dollar?
Or maybe it’s just change?

As to what ‘Bitcoin’ is,
I still have not a clue.
But reports here and there
Declares what it can do.

Bitcoin. Bitcoin. Hmmm!
For all the talk that’s made,
According to my theory,
It has to do with trade.

At the nursing home
I visited my friend
Whom I hadn’t seen
In a long time.

Her life had ebbed,
And her health was in steady decline
As she struggled with
The dreaded Alzheimer’s.

While she slept soundly,
The squirrels played cheerfully
On the jolly ‘ol tree
Just outside her bedroom window.

Two teenage friends went hiking
Along a familiar trail
In Northern Indiana.
The ‘plot’ would don a veil.

For the girls did not show up
At the appointed spot,
Reuniting with the kin
Said to have dropped them off.

So it became obvious
That something went awry.
And next came the somber news
That’ll make a heart cry.

Investigators sought help
To find the perpetrator
As the blood of those two girls
Pled to the Creator.

Whodunit? For now remains
An unsolved mystery.
But time, and chance, and purpose
Shall claim the victory.

The girls from the hiking trail—
Their story must unfold;
Some day in vindication
The bare truth shall be told.

Fair wintry night with
Clear skies and a bright shining
Moon—Nature’s lantern.

Life would be like
A garden without flowers--
Full  of thorns and thistles.
But thank God for motherhood
Such a special gift
And the love, joy, beauty
And warmth it brings.
And thank you--
wonderful Mom--
For making the difference.
Happy Mother’s Day.

Image on the wall
Casts its shadow ‘pon the floor
Playing with the mind.

Like an old blanket,
Fold up 'last year,'
And place it on the shelf of time.
Box up its contents,
Which rings no longer prime.
Take up today and journey on—
Understanding that...
Yesterday no longer speaks.
For yesterday is gone.

Yesterday’s a deserted puddle
With water all dried up.
The memories are savoring,
But empty is the cup.

And yesterday is a bare glass
With not a thing to drink.
It holds no substance in its hand;
Just fleeting, like a wink.

And like the total silence of
A pleasant sounding fife--
Yesterday, like shifting sand,
Is just a phase of life.

Your love is the strong rope
That keeps me holding on.
The divine needle of mending,
When I’m weary and torn.

Your love’s a trusty band aid
For every painful wound.
And the golden sunshine
For my precious, fragile June.

Your love fills the grayest skies
With hope and lasting peace.
What a glorious, wondrous love
That never shall decrease.

For Your love—which I have known—
By leaps and bounds, I have grown.