Category Archives: Poems

Why Do We Tell Our Kids A Lie – Christmas

Santa Christmas


Why do we tell our kids a lie,
Of that old man up in the sky,
And tell them that if they are good,
He’ll give them what they think he should?
But if they’ve been bad kids this year,
That old grey man won’t even hear
Their plea for what they want to have.
And so they learn to just be sad,
And to try harder every year,
To earn his favor and his cheer.

If this is how we’ve all been raised,
Why is it that we’re all amazed
That kids confuse that old grey man,
With He whose gracious, master plan
Was then to give his Son for us,
For us in our rebelliousness!
Before we knew the mighty task,
Or even had a chance to ask!
And so I hope you will this year
Participate in holy cheer,
As we all praise our God who gave
His only Son for us to save.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

Some Days Are Not Like All The Rest


Some days are not like all the rest;
Some days the worst, some days the best.

Some days are up, some days are down.
Some days a smile, some days a frown.

Some days are not like all the rest;
Some days are cursed, some days are blessed.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Whimperwheel, My Daffodil

It’s been a long, intense day. This is just me unwinding with something silly.

Whimperwheel, my daffodil.
Whimperwheel for me.
Whimperwheel til time stands still,
Still whimperwheel for me.

Plot not in vain a ruckus cause,
Plot not in vain my dear,
Plot not in vain for righteous laws
Will kill your lovely cheer.

Just whimperwheel my lovely dear,
Just whimperwheel for me.
Just whimperwheel with lovely cheer,
Mixed with your trademark glee.

Whimperwheel, I say to all!
Now whimperwheel for me!
Just whimperwheel on down the hall!
Go whimperwheel for me!

Lackadaisy number one,
Lackadaisy two.
There ain’t no way the lackadays
Were made for me and you.

Boo vo snitzel la pietzski
Boo vo snitzel lee.
Ain’t no boo snitzel in the world,
At least none left for me.

And if the boo should whimperwheel
I hope he keeps it quiet,
For if boo snitzel is for real,
Poor boo would cause a riot.

So go, boo snitzel, be not lazy.
Go – we all agree.
Go wake the nearest sleeping daisy,
And whimperwheel for me!

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Down To The Sea (Poem based on Psalm 107:23-32)


Down to the sea in ships they went,
They went down to the sea.
They went as those who had been sent;
In ships down to the sea.

They went for business on this trip,
Each man upon the sea.
And so each loaded up their ship
To sail upon the sea.

But not soon after they had left,
As sure as they could be.
There came upon them something which,
They thought they’d never see.

The waves they reached up to the sky,
And soon they fell below,
Which made each man a passer by,
As each went to and fro.

So up they went and down they came,
Each man went pound for pound,
They put all drunken men to shame,
With how they staggered round.

The storm was more than they could bear,
The chaos wouldn’t cease,
And so they shouted out in prayer,
They asked the Lord for peace.

And then the Lord, with His right hand,
And from His heart of love,
He calmed the storm so every man
Was rescued from above.

So let each man whose life was saved
Tell what the Lord has done.
Let them in wonder stand amazed,
And in His Spirit, run.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

What is Joy? [Poem]


There is a thing I’m finding out.

It’s really true, I have no doubt.

It has to do with: What is joy?

A subject which, since as a boy,

I’ve struggled with, and has been real,

Complete with shadows which appeal

Straight to the heart which was made for

Pure joy itself, and nothing more.

And so within a lonely tension

I’ve struggled with this comprehension:

Just what is joy, and how’s it found?

And why can’t I see greener ground?

And who with certainty can say

Just when to leave, and where’s the way?

The problem is, I’ve always thought

Of joy like something sold or bought

Like: here is what you’re sposed to do,

Just X, Y, Z to a happy you.

But what, in fact, I’ve seen take place

Are happy people in the race.

They may not even know the way

Or what they’re doing the next day.

Yet still they run, content to be

To just be happy, hopeful, free!

And what it is, I’m finding out

That they’ve got along the route

Is not a certainty of mind

Or some sure knowledge that they’ll find

Some better thing along the way —

Their minds aren’t on another day!

What they’ve learned along the trip,

Is joy within relationship!

It’s what they have within their soul

They makes them joyful, happy, whole.

And so this thing I’m finding out

It makes me want to scream and shout!

People aren’t just there for kicks,

Joy is found in relationship!

Joy’s not a thing that’s other than

What happens, when, within a man,

He has someone along the way

To just be with, content, today.

Someone, like him, perplexed by fate.

With whom he can commiserate.

Or someone who within his eyes

Will stare and not his soul despise.

And likewise, he, at will can glare

Upon his friend, a peaceful stare.

And so most people when they see

A friend they know, or family,

They see a chance to bond again

To reconnect with that dear friend.

They’re not like “Crap, it’s her”, “Oh, Hey”

“I wish I could get on my way.

Because I’ve got this stuff to do,

This stuff, which once I know I’m through,

Will let me then be happy, free,

So you be you, and I’ll be me.”

They don’t see life like that at all.

They see each moment, big or small,

In terms of those around them there.

And any joy a soul can spare,

They’ll bring it out of them, in fact,

And make it big – then throw it back.

And so within this back and forth

A thing is born and starts to morph.

It grows into it, bit by bit;

This thing we call “relationship.”

Now at this time I’d like to pause

And contemplate the root, the cause.

Just why is it that joy is found

Not by yourself but at the sound

And sight and feel of someone else;

Who’s not just there and has a pulse,

But seems to be there by design,

And there at just the perfect time?

I think it speaks to who God is,

And to his Son, who made me His.

To Jesus Christ, Who long ago

From up above came down below,

To take my grief and make it his.

It’s really true, I know it is.

To take his perfect joy divine,

To lose it all and make it mine.

I can’t explain just how or why,

And still I will believe a lie.

But at my core I know it’s true

He bled and died for me and you.

He left His own community

To give his joy to you and me.

To save us from the shame of sin,

To save us to a life with Him!

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

Just When You Think That All Is Lost – poem


Just when you think that all is lost,
God’s grace prevails again.
He intervenes despite the cost,
All for your soul to win.
For you for whom He gave His Son
To suffer in your place.
For you with whom He fought and won
To lift your lowly face.
And now He shows you everything
You thought you may have missed.
Good things prevail despite the pain,
The pain is but a mist.
The pain we feel was met before,
It is no new found thing.
This pain our silent Savior bore
That we may shout and sing.
That we, the ones who caused it all,
The ones who are to blame!
That we, the wretched of the fall
Would know no sin or shame!
What kind of God would do all this?
What kind of God is He?
Why leave a place of perfect bliss
To die upon a tree?
He is a God who cares for us,
Who left his throne above.
He is a God of selflessness,
He is a God of love!

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

Who Cares What Other People Think – poem

Alone I roam the roller rink.
Most people stare without a blink.
They say I am the missing link.
Who cares what other people think!


My mind is whack and out of sync.
I have one friend – he is my shrink.
I leave my dishes in the sink.
Who cares what other people think!


I cannot whistle, snap or wink.
The stuff I own – it’s rinky dink!
My favorite color’s neon pink.
Who cares what other people think!


The world, it seems, is on the brink.
I’ll do my thing and cause a stink.
Then I’ll relax and have a drink.
Who cares what other people think!

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

It Is Quite A Mystery (poem)

It is quite a mystery
Why He bled and died for me.
Why from heav’n to earth He came,
All to take my sin and shame.

And not only did He take
My sin and die for my sake,
But He also made me be
Righteous before God, as He.

Now He as I, and I, He.
This is the great mystery.
One with Him forevermore,
Makes me wonder why? What for?

Why would He give up so much
To become a filthy wretch?
And why give me all for free,
All the stuff of royalty?

What He says is pretty clear,
If you have the ears to hear.
Love for us is why He came;
To the glory of His name.

For greater love hath no man,
Than He who came by the plan
Of the Father, and who gave
His life for my soul to save.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

This Life Is Like A Wedding Cake (poem)

This life is like a wedding cake;
It’s all thought through before you bake.
And every detail must be right
Or one mistake could kill the night.
But then the wedding roles around
Where everyone is gathered round
And no one seems to care at all
Or even notice one small flaw
About the cake, which was before
Examined so intently for
The proper look, and feel, and taste,
Even the texture of the paste!
But now the guests don’t seem to care;
They eat the thing with joy to spare.
The bride and groom, and the planner,
Even they have lost the manner
They once displayed about the cake,
Which now they all at once forsake,
And act as though they never cared,
About the cake or how it fared.
Yet if they’d known that what they feared
Would come to pass (the cake was smeared!)
They surely would have raised some hell
And moved both heav’n and earth as well,
To guarantee the perfect sight,
To make for sure the cake was right.
And so it is with what we see
In life and sociology.
The thing performed is not the same
As what was planned before the game.
Yet those around don’t seem to care;
They only know of what is there
Before their face and all the rest,
So just get up and do your best.


Filed under Poems

Come To Me My Savior Said (poem)

Come to me, my Savior said

Lift your eyes and lift your head

What you think needs help or care

It won’t last, don’t waste a prayer


But what about this thing right here

This, He says, is it – draw near

This is the thing that matters most

Forget your lot, your mind, your boast


My Glory, son, matters most of all

In this pursuit you’ll find your call

Perhaps your lot may fall in line

But only here will you be mine


And so it goes, the toil of life

So much confusion, so often strife

But in the end, it matters not

Forget your self, your life, your lot


There’s another story being told

Of Creator God, the One of old

Of time and space, the universe

Of a garden rich, but then a curse


Of an evil world, destroyed in wrath

Of a remnant saved, a glorious bath

Of a man called out, by faith traveled west

Of a family through whom all will be blessed


Of bondage and slavery, captive then free

Of law from the mountain, of sorrow and glee

Of a king who ruled, mighty and just

Of wisdom and wealth, of fairness and trust


Of a man born lowly, in a dirty cattle stall

Of a servant by choice, the Lord of all

Of Satan and demons, temptation and strife

Of water and blood, of beauty and life


Of the Spirit Himself, here now with us

Of grace and mercy, of One who is just

Of a people called out to reflect His glory

Of a God who saves, this is the story


So in this life, whenever you get down

Consider His glory to remove your frown

Not that your problems will just go away

But by pondering Him, they lose their great sway

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems, Theology

God of Wonder, Love and Might (poem)

God of wonder, love and might;

In this hour be my delight.

Search and know me, through and through;

Move my heart to worship you.

God in flesh, the Word made man;

Be to me the great I Am.

By your death, my death you beat;

Let me be your hands and feet.

Holy Spirit, strong and true;

Fill me up with only You.

Take from me all selfish pride,

Let me in your love abide.

Abba Father, up above;

Grant me now your peace in love.

Take each thought, my mind renew;

Captivate it all to you.

Now to the great Three in One:

Father, Holy Spirit, Son.

Til that day when all is right,

Let us only trust Your might.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

To Poetry My Newfound Love (poem)

Here’s something I wrote a couple weeks ago.  I read it in Little Rock & Hot Springs.

To poetry,

My newfound love.

Sent down to me,

From up above.


You far surpass my time with prose,

In helping to defeat my foes.

In you I find a peace of mind,

The kind I cannot leave behind.


When up I feel empow’red to share,

My optimistic soul laid bare.

When down you give a warm safe place,

From which to vent and hide my face.


You let me play with words again,

And bring me back where I began,

To where I first found love of pun,

Before I’d met my friend, John Donne.


For poetry is real to me,

With paradox and irony.

Like simple truth conveyed in words,

Yet patterned after singing birds.


Sometimes a crow, that wretched noise.

As if alerting all the boys,

To some new meal or hawk to fight,

Now show some courage, prove your might.


At other times a lonely sound,

As if a dove were to be found,

Behind these lines of rhyming verse.

Where ev’ry turn reveals a curse.


Yet here’s the one true poet bird,

Above all others, she is heard.

Observing well, she makes her call.

The mockingbird, the best of all!


Taking what she sees in culture,

Loudly she proclaims her sculpture.

At other times she just don’t care,

Mocking all with pomp and flare.


Yet don’t ignore her chosen words,

For even though from other birds,

They come to her by her own choice,

And in this way she finds her voice.


She doesn’t mock to scorn or hate,

But for a larger point to make.

In mixing words in time with rhyme,

She feels set free and in her prime.


So when you hear, to get the gist,

You must observe each subtle twist.

For even words you’ve heard before,

Her mouth may make to mean much more.


Now let me speak just one more time,

To this love of rhythm and rhyme.

To the queen of complex notion,

Who sings aloud with pure devotion.


To Poetry, I’m glad we’ve met.

I think our love may blossom yet,

Into the sweetest smelling rose,

Much sweeter than forgotten prose.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems