Best Service Poems
weather-beaten sign
driven down in dying weeds
forsaken headstone
oh nameless, forgotten soul
the Savior knows who you are
now stuffed with sweet eggs,
her kids sit, well-groomed, in church -
Not a bad hare day!
For Skat's EASY Poetry Contest
Discarded cotton t-shirt shrunken and stained
on the side of a street pot-holed and veined
pants sagging low with no shoes on his feet
headphones blaring to the latest hip-hop beat
Heading down to the corner looking for a score
the old 76 filling station with the boarded up doors
how times have changed in a mere forty years
youthful exuberance gone now nobody cares
Flash back we go to the days of my youth
hard work the requisite as was the truth
running on empty our roll was real slow
clean-cut attendant with bow-tie for show
Service with a smile, thank you and please
gone is simplicity and enjoying the breeze
I'm still waiting
How much time has elapsed
Think I'll read
While I'm waiting
I just read a chapter
I do believe my call is being answered
No, a voice on a machine echoes
"Your call will be taken in the order in which it was received"
Great
What number caller was I
Probably the 1000th caller
I'll touch up my manicure
While I'm waiting
I'm still waiting
Rats
I smudged my polish on one nail
Wonder If I have time to fix it
Before they break their necks to take my call
They must be averaging one call every ten minutes
I'll continue reading
Another chapter done
I'm still waiting
At the joyful sunrise service on Easter morn
On the sands of Daytona Beach no lines are drawn
Worshipers from each Christian denomination
Gather in unison as one congregation
Protestants, Mormons and Catholics in pre-dawn haze
Chorus of voices offering hymns of great praise
As the sun rises here, just as God’s son rose then
For a moment in time, many faiths are brethren
When the first rays of light streak across the ocean
‘Neath glowing pink light, we celebrate Christ risen
Surely God smiles down as all believers embrace,
Celebrate the Resurrection, bask in His grace
Good will is conveyed as heartfelt pledges are made
That the love displayed on Easter will never fade
All are soulidified and take this vow seriously
Knowing Christ’s sacrifice heals all humanity
Oft overlooked veterans,
of EVERY American war
The Medal of Honor,
one woman only ever wore.*
Women in Military Service,
a concept slow to grow.
Unrecognized, under-compensated,
yet, always there, always ready to go.
A Memorial to Women in Military Service,**
a concept slow to grow.
In every war, everywhere,***
they are always ready to go.
Please join me in well-deserved salute
to these mothers, sisters, lovers
and wives; usually unarmed, always brave.
Many died alongside men — the traditional soldiers.
*Only one women has been awarded the United States of America's Medal of Honor: Mary Edwards Walker (Civil War). How Many more deserved it?
**Located in Arlington National Cemetery
***If you are not US Citizen, please recognize the women veterans of your country, I'm sure there are many.
Mrs. Cat, I'm bringing back your kitten
I'm completely done with baby sittin'
She cried all day
Not worth the pay
And , so sorry, we couldn't find her mitten
For the "Tell Me About It " contest
The sign reads no service
if you take off your shoes
but if you come in to my place
I'll take them off you
Have a seat at my counter
I'll get to you real soon
one sip of this coffee
I'm damn sure you'll swoon
Breakfast is simmering
you'll find the sausage divine
mouth watering perfection
it's one of a kind
Church bells are ringing
the bluebirds start singing
no need for tipping
the first one's on me
apologies to Robert W. Service
There’s a tale that is told
In the night Yukon cold
Of the shooting of Dan Mc Grew
The truth as it’s known
Is a legend that’s grown
And the truth is known by very few
It’s twenty years on
The Malamutes gone
There’s nobody left from that night
But there’s talk of some gold
That sometimes is told
Of what happened just after the fight
There is word of a bar
“The New Yukon Star”
And a fellow down there who can play
The place it is grand
The best in the land
And it’s found down by Old Frisco Bay
Now, remember the poke
Of McGrew’s the tale spoke
And what happened when Dan was now dead
From his neck it was freed
And the poke held the deed
To Dangerous Dan’s claim it was said
When the Northern lights glow
Bringing life to the snow
They say that old Dan walks again
But twenty years past
Dan took that breath, yes, his last
And left the world of mortal men
Now, the saloon down in Frisco
With a barkeep named Cisco
Had a picture of Dan on the wall
They say that his ghost
Makes it smile when you toast
Dan McGrew when it is last call
A traveller came
And remembered Dan’s name
One night as he sat with his drink
The piano was loud
And he saw through the crowd
A face, which made the man think
He once was a cop
And on occasion did stop
At the bar when Dan McGrew died
He looked at the face
But wasn’t sure of the place
That he knew it, but damn boys he tried
There’s a place saved in hell
For those under the spell
Of those who cheated out old Dan McGrew
In the stories it’s told
how his poke with his gold
Was stolen by someone he knew
Think of the name
Of the one living with shame
From Dan’s last night beneath the north star
Just who could build
A place always filled
A hotel and a popular bar
There on the stair
With long silvery hair
Through cigar smoke that made the air blue
Was the girl who once danced
And had Dan entranced
The girl known only as Lou
able bodied service man off to fight a war battle scorn
4/14/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2018©
A Service Member's Prayer
Oh, God, I feel that I have cause
To know my life might give You pause,
But fair as You are sure to be,
I seek Your way on bended knee.
I wish neither to kill nor die,
Though from engagement I'll not shy.
For if my duty calls me there,
I'll do whatever I must dare.
I seek not courage for the fight.
I seek not comfort from the night.
I ask not pardon for my deeds,
Nor any salve for any needs.
I only ask to know what's right,
To do my best to check my might,
To render mercy where I should,
To know I serve the greater good.
Oh, God, if You will hear my plea,
I ask so very much of thee.
I fear not men, I fear not death,
Yet bow my head and still my breath
To ask You, please, to do Your best,
To keep me from eternal rest,
Until the hour my duty sends
Me home to family and friends.
And if You grant my humble prayer,
Oh, God, I ask You, keep from care
Those people whom I hold most dear.
I wish them not to shed a tear
In anguish over days now done,
Where my dawn was their setting sun.
For then, if You will grant my plea,
I'll soon be nearer them and Thee.
Copyright Shawn H. Hall 2014
Maud, the meek poverty stricken seventy year old matriarch
of the people spoke proudly as the relief shown on her face.
“Two weeks ago I had tests run at Sparks Medical Center in
Fort Smith they told me that my old body was almost totally
eat up of cancer. I ask a brother at that time here in the church
whom I respect and have faith in to pray. He simply said as he
laid hands on me, them that believe shall lay hands on the sick,
and they shall recover. (Mark 16:18 KJV) Why that is all he said
as he asks me to agree with him.”
“I stand before you today, one day before Christmas, totally free
of cancer. I was scheduled yesterday to begin receiving radiation,
but when they did my blood tests again they could not find one
trace of cancer. My doctor said he just could not explain the miracle
that had apparently taken place. You apparently know a doctor who
is far greater than I am.” Tears of gratitude flowed down Maud’s old,
weathered cheeks as the whole church stood and rejoiced with their
precious matriarch mother. This was a Christmas eve of rejoicing like
non other, and there was not a dry eye in the whole church.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A true story from 1987 in Moreland Arkansas Free Full Gospel Church.
This charitable hearted lady lived several years after this and died of simple
old age at around 90 years of age.
For Carolyn’s
Contest: Your Christmas Miracle
"canon service"
“We follow the rules here”, he said incorruptibly
like he was untainted as holy water
from the incorruptible font,
he had an upward inflection in his voice
at the end of every punctuated point,
delivered like a canon service
his gun and bullets were larger
apparently...he was high, the pulpit lofty
far above the soaped-up sinners
some of us inside were grinning
too much alter wine
he was probably juiced,
then unctuously he shared his fat sermon
as if to convey to the congregated
a good and proper sluicing,
the service was poetic
no hymns in this church
salvation tamborines
to beat the devils out,
some of us inside were grinning
Candide Diderot. ‘23
canon.
cannon.
When I was just a wee farm lad growin' up in Hoosier land,
There were many things about farm life I didn't quite understand!
One day I saw a neighbor leadin' a big bull down the gravel road.
I asked my dear old Pa about that and this is what I was told.
"Son, he's takin' that mean old bull to "service" a neighbor's cow."
The implications of that went over my tousled head then, but now,
I associate it with the "service" we git when dealin' with the IRS!
(Don't you think I handled a very delicate matter with a modicum of finesse!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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