My May Muse

My Hope vacillates too often within me,

During these solitaire days of fog and rain

Which become dreary and duller than they should be;

He waivers past heavy, budded spring tree;

He saunters down shady forest lane.

His home is elsewhere and cannot stay;

He marks the days… weeks on lengthy list,

He’s lonely as time slowly melts away,

He’s lonely gazing at skies slate gray;

Seeking heavenly bodies waiting in morning mist.

The desolate, deserted towns and trees,

The vanishing views of airborne sky,

The empty parks and pathways he hardly sees;

He’s unable to capture these…

And we ask a puzzling question of, “Why”?

Not ever will one come to really know,

The fear which lingers with pandemic days;

After this pestilence fades like winter’s snow

Will we bow the knee to God in praise?

“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal glory… “

2 Corinthians 4:17

Written in the spirit of Robert Frost’s, My November Guest, my heart reveals a morsel of what our world may be experiencing.


Buds wait to burst forth,
As ice kisses daffodils
Robins pass stiff worms
Dried from noonday sun.

We wait to burst forth,
As isolation hugs our lives
While robins fly free
Across the noonday sky.

Inspired by Psalm 104 and my granddaughter’s encouragement to write 😉.

Open Season

Winter is a blank canvas for writer and artist alike… I don’t know why, it just is.

I fancy strolling my property the day after “Opening Season”;

where echoes of gunshots now are drowned out by

soaring, screeching hawks, along with chattering chickadees.

I like sauntering my acreage… past timeworn barbed wire,

cluttered mammal tracks, and worn paths brought to light.

I relish roaming my land, as sun drenched pines quickly fade

to snowy white carried by wintry winds moaning from the north.

I savor rambling my countryside where empty shanty stands;

drafty windows and open doors welcome nature in, as I wander.

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose…”

Ecclesiastes 3:1

*Opening Season is deer hunting

As Winter Comes

As Winter Comes…

September’s bustling chatter

echoesm throughout the wood.

The drone of slick-back crickets,

whizzing of late cicadas,

and jabbering of sly chipmunks;

resound and ring in humid air.

Hydrangea’s bow bulky, blushing heads

and stately goldenrod glimmers

attracting bustling bumblebees

loading pollen for the making.

Time trickles with all things.

A babe is born and old men die.

September comes…

and goes as geese fly south.

For my father-in-law… May you know the streets of gold where Jesus awaits everyone willing to receive Him as Savior.”

“I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel;

My heart also instructs me in the night seasons.

I have set the Lord always before me;

Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.”

Psalm 16:7-8

My Path

I wonder of the light…
Which peels back dark of night
Of lurking shadow’s rights.

What brings forth new day?
What words will I need say?
What steps will slip away?

I assume secrets of night,
Intrigues me with worldly rights.
Yet, my soul yearns for the Light!

“Thy Word is a lamp
unto my feet,
A light unto my path.”

Psalms 119:105

Mount Zion

I sit still…

Amidst hollow landscapes

the air breaths spring tunes,

as ancients from length of days.

I sit still…

Watching sun blushing early morn;

day passes beneath the moon settles,

as aged earth lingers and groans.

“Then the moon shall be confounded,

And the sun ashamed, when the Lord of host

Shall reign in Mount Zion, and in Jerusalem,

And before His ancients glorious.”

Isaiah 24:23

Junes’ Song

Before slice of dawn…
after throaty bullfrogs croak
and birds begin their shrill;

there is a parcel of time
in which no sounds emerge
out in the inky darkness of night.

Over shadowy country landscapes,
under the veil of bright spring morn
there settles an empty, hollow stillness.

And some doze, as other stir:
‘bove bright blue buntings breed
below badger burrows down deep.

Arise with break of new dawn…
Lower your daily plans, read the Word!
There one will find stillness of heart.

I rise before the dawning of the morning,
And cry for help; I hope in Your word.

My eyes are awake through the night watches,
That I may meditate on Your word.

Psalm 119:147-148

Spring Storm

Wind howls like a wild wolf lost in a sea of terror…. howling, howling, howling

Tears at tree top. Toppled them to cold ground littered with dead debris.

Shakes the bough, bends the trunk, tumbles all across moist earth.

Is such a night when restless sleep haunts watches of twilight till dawn.

The soul unable to rest. The mind troubled. The heart sin blackened.

He who spins the wind and topples the trees; it is God one needs seek to find rest.

To stop the howling, howling, howling…

James 4:7-10

Draw near to God and He’ll draw near to you

First Snow


How dreary thorns in flesh?
Russet hues in wintry light;
against dismal resting earth.

It’s here first snow appears;
scatters crystals among trees,
interrupts rioting leaves of fall.

Where comes storehouses of snow?
God binds them in unreachable homes;
unleashing flakes at His sovereign will.

A child sees first snow differently,
when mossy earth is laden white;
over, over, and over again anew.

Yet time will come, snow shall melt,
life’s bleakness fade; in last of days
and earth made new again, as snow.

“… no more death or mourning
or crying or pain, for the former
thing have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

My eleven year old granddaughter shared a slice of wisdom with me the other day. I told her it was going to snow. She said, “Its first snow!” with a tone of excitement. “It already snowed this year,” I simply replied. “But it hasn’t snowed for awhile,” said she. Looking at the bare landscape I saw tawny trees, exposed earth, and stately green pine’s lack of decorations. It was then I understood the importance of snow to her. Let’s be reminded, as we struggle through the season of celebration, whatever came to one’s door unwelcome will one day pass away. Like melting snow, will disappear and all will be made new by a sovereign God.