Archives: Poems

Letters From Home

I came across some letters – a treasure full of hope, where visions of that future now give me a way to cope.

I have these many letters because my parents kept them all,
and now, even after they are gone, these words still seem to call.

Where do my words and hopes go now? To God’s paternal hands,
and there God sees my hopes and dreams and wants me to understand
that He penned letters to His home and had my name inscribed.
Oh how blessed is the thought of how I was described.

“My son – Dennis – an only son, I know that term quite well.
If you could hear my plans for you, the half you’d gladly tell.
You see, My dreams and plans for you aren’t in the stain of pen,
But, came through blood that I had shed – a stain because of sin.
I keep your hopes and dreams real close. They reveal what’s on your heart,
and they are safe at home on high – the place where hope does start.

Your mom and dad did keep these notes as treasures in the deep.
Please know My thoughts and plans for you are a covenant I keep.
So when you walk through each new day, this lesson I will teach:
Stay in My hands, for ALL my plans are safe within My reach.”

Love to You.

Legacy

A legacy of life comes down and bathes man in its dream.
The pinnacle of sights unseen – it soars from the light beam.

Some pinpoint times when beams come down and crushes those below.
The dreams were more than man could meet. They come down very slow.

It happened in a dynasty; a name that’s known to all.
The dream crash landed in our midst. Of this we were appalled.

This man, amid the praise of those who bid him, “Be like ‘they’.”
Cannot abide those thoughts beside; he’s had his own rough day.

Built up beyond what could contain a mold for him to fit.
It’s hard enough to live one’s life. Their plans don’t help a bit.

Expectations can be somewhat good if reasonable they are.
When we project for other’s too, we’ve strayed and gone too far.

Murphy’s Law of Cars

What is that sound? Chug, chug, putt, putt.
We need to know…It smells like soot.

I guess we can’t delay this now,
We need to get this fixed, and how.

You take it in and they do say,
Hey! Live bait here – we’ll make them pay.
We’ll keep them guessing room to room.
And while they’re at it, the bill will zoom.

So, while we wait, repairs are done.
But, they’ll explain, “We made it run.”
A small, trite thought, when you leave the lot.
Your car breaks down on that very spot.

It’s sad, but true, when you need repair.
You try to look, but can’t find one who’s fair.
And if you’re a gal, then for sure you’re sunk,
Cause often your repairman seems to be a punk.

If you, like we, Murphy’s Law live by,
It makes you sick, makes you want to cry.
This old byline of fact, is in effect,
If you need your car fixed, go to the dealer, direct.

If anything can go wrong with a car, we will know,
Because it will be us who have been towed.
One thing upon another, sometimes we say “Enough”!
It’s sure that owning a car can be truly rough.

Landmark Mile Markers

Mile markers indicate to all,
Just where you’ve been or gone.
They can be a reminder, too,
Of what did take so long.

From Mount Rushmore’s chiseled face,
To Ellis Island’s liberty grace.
Our land provides these treasures rare,
That hold our past, our deeds to share.

Niagara, its receding falls
And Grand Canyon’s echoed calls.
Who can dismiss the grandest zone –
Our D.C. Capital’s granite stone.

Each landmark has its history,
As we recall its worth.
It does us well to think of that,
The landmarks humble birth.

We are a landmark here, of sorts;
Our story does remain.
A work-in-progress, we are told.
Molded in our own terrain.

These markers of which we are made,
Of what life did provide,
Can make our lives a monument
If God is right inside.

Who else can make the stone a voice,
And alter life’s bad face.
This marker turns from stone to life,
Because of His embrace.

A Lady of Steele

Steel is a metal – strong, yet soft
When it’s welded to make it real,
A pipe or foundation becomes better for use
When it’s made from a type of steel.
Our Dixie is strong, yet melts in the grip
Of the God before Whom she does kneel.
She’s been a foundation of love and support,
This Dixie – a lady of Steele.
The fire of the Master has lit up her soul
And warms her with heaven’s appeal.
All others around do bask in that glow
From Dixie – a lady of Steele.
I pray that the torch of God’s golden joy
Will affect all things that you feel.
You’re special, it’s true; our God listens to you,
Sweet Dixie – our lady of Steele.

Memorial Service for Judy

When think of Judy, I think of:

“J” is for Jesus Christ because He is the One who gave her real life.
I was so privileged to be her pastor when a few years ago
she wanted to follow the Lord in baptism, which doesn’t save us
but declares our faith. What a great testimony that lingers because she
wanted to follow Jesus and she did it in fullness on November 23, 2015.

“U” is for unique. Her spicy red hair meant that she meant business. Her bright eyes, with a bit of an extra wink, welcomed everyone. Her smile lit up a room and her voice calmed many a difficulty.

“D” is for devout in her faith in Jesus Christ and her family. There was nobody who could put Jerry in his place like Judy, but that place was right next to her. She cherished her family, church family, friends and her beloved doggies.

“Y” is for why we are here, because trust in Jesus gets us to God’s house.
Truly Judy is Mrs. Marvelous. I am truly sorry I could not be there. All my love.

A Peace for Jenna

Though caught within a world of pain,
We know she’s found real peace,
Because she placed her soul in
God’s salvation time release.
Not by plan or earth’s desire,
She left us way too soon,
But oh how treasured is the truth;
She’s in Christ’s safety room.
Upon the door of this domain,
Which answers by His grace.
She left here sad, but woke in praise
And saw the Savior’s face.

Jacob’s Well

(October, 1989 was the time that Jacob Wetterling was taken from
his St. Joseph, Minnesota home. This poem is for his family.)

Five long years have come and gone since hope was snatched away.
It is a crime living in time. The sad, sad song remains.

This Jacob’s hope, not just for him, but also for us all.
When this was done, its scope reached wide and made a nation ball.

The prayers and thoughts for all those lost are kept inside our heart.
The cartons, ads, and fliers, too, remind us, while apart.

We still don’t know what happened on that road, but we still care.
We know where patty’s spotlight shines, it’s Jacob’s shadow there.

“Somewhere out there” is someone whose piece would puzzle fill.
And one by one a picture would form to make our fear stand still.

Within the home of this lost gem was also taken then –
The future dreams and plans they had. To them, our prayers we send.

The family must continue on, and hope they’ll always hold.
But fragments of their broken hearts lay still on that dirt road.

Till all the Jacob’s of this world are safe from dread, we’ll tell:
That we’ll not slow down our pursuit – dig deep for Jacob’s well.

The Cross in Two

You made a cross, I’ll n’er forget; it was made in parts of two.
It reminds me of our Savior’s heart, torn apart for you.

From your view you might have seen what seemed to you a spot,
But for our purpose it stood strong, and meant to us a lot.

You know, we see imperfections, instead of the perfect one.
The cross means He was broke in two, our victory He’d won.

So really, you took some old wood and made a truth so rare,
That God took man just as he was, and crafted him down here.

Herald the Day

October 6th is just a day, or so some seem to say.
We who know what makes it great, know it’s a grand ole day.

Just as the angels “herald” all the great events in view,
So, on the 6th day, God made man, and made a “Harold”, too.

God saw this one and knew before how special he would be.
Not only to all those he knows, but to his family.

He’ll never know just what he does, or what he means each day,
We just think this “6th day Harold” is great in every way.