Living long with gratitude mirth
my heart prays to abide in God against hope's dearth
sharing warm bond with family of loving worth
enjoying home-paradise in our heaven on earth
while serving upon ministerial fortress-berth...
Indeed, longevity as gift of the Lord by His grace
is a blessing against rigorous survival race*
since it shows divine mercy with compassion ways
propelling faith in persevering along worshipful praise
while delighting in life of triumphant, vibrant and radiant days.
*Hebrews 12:1-2 12 Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
May 21, 2026
Honorable Mention, "1483" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/26/2026
They smile—as Houses—smile at Night—
With Windows—all asleep—
Yet in the Cellar—Footsteps count—
The Promises—they keep—
Their Candor—is a borrowed Coat—
They wear—then lay aside—
The Truth—prefers a quieter Room—
Where Schemes—are not denied—
They measure Mercy—with a Rule—
And trim it—to their Need—
The Garden—blooms with careful Hands—
But bleeds—at every thorn—
A Dove—would hesitate—mid-flight—
To choose their offered Air—
For Peace—can be a practiced Word—
And Trust—a slender Prayer—
Yet even here—the Heart persists—
A Rebel—soft—and small—
For Power—cannot silence Light—
Nor Darkness—finish—All—
The lungs' heavy work soften
Breaths escape less often
The day rest in nightfall
Summer's fade to fall
Gives way to winter's pall
And the chilling of all
Colouring my dreams gray
Falling back from the fray
To soothe and to pray heal
The hatreds that we feel
Learning so late to forgive
With so few days to live
Weep for time wasted thus
I, the weaker of us
Feigning others as weak
That were humble and meek
That heed the gleaming light
And lay aside their might
My years stretch to their close
Though my star never rose
To light another's way
Or smite their darkest day
Dear god, please forgive me
Too late, thine face, I see
Lay aside self-fulfillment
Take on servanthood
Do the will of God
Exercise enduring faith
Believe apart from signs
Worship in spirit and truth
Develop spiritual vision
Be a sower and a reaper
On Growing Older
Sometimes my steps are steady,
Sometimes my hands shake.
Sometimes my memory falters,
And I make some sad mistake.
Sometimes I hear you talking
But I do not understand.
Just remember that I love you
And I do the best I can.
My skin is sagged and wrinkled.
I look a little like an Elf.
My eyesight's getting hazy,
Sometimes I repeat myself.
But I still love the beauty,
Of the big old open sky
And Precious little children,
Sometimes at night I cry,
I look back on my efforts
Did I do the things I should
But I find a gentle comfort,
That I did the best I could.
I am weary but the knowledge
That strikes the sweetest cord.
I can lay aside my worries
And leave them with the Lord.
There's a storm that we can't weather
There's a war that we can't win
But as long as we're together
We're together thick and thin
I know that you said things
I didn't like or understand
Then my reply would surely sting
Hot and dry like desert sand
So, I'll lay aside my pride, As you reach to hold my hand
Using love to be our guide, And respect to make our stand
'Cause there's a war that we can't win, And a storm that we can't weather
Unless through thick and thin, We can learn to stick together
I know that you said things
I didn't like or understand
Then my reply would surely sting
Hot and dry like desert sand
So, I'll lay aside my pride, As you reach to hold my hand
Using love to be our guide, And respect to make our stand
'Cause there's a war that we can win, And a storm that we can weather
And we'll stand through thick and thin, Now, We've learn to stick together
Belongings gain a sadder fate
Then we do, when we die
Their owners soul they can’t revive
As if they’re always late
To catch an eye, that now can’t see
To feel the touch, that’s gone
Belongings lay aside, forlorn
Green leaves on a felled tree
Must feel the same, before they fade
And wither in the wind
Belongings, thrown into the bin
Are waiting to be saved
Relatives of the owner choose
Some items, ain’t that sad
A few belongings of the dead,
They will remain unused.
The Broken Body
Let us break bread together
Heal the wounds between us
Put aside the strife which separates
Lay aside our differences
May we find peace
Despite our differences
Let us feast on the bread
Of life and fellowship
Come celebrate together
Let us not allow our
Brokenness to interfere
Come to the table of fellowship
We can celebrate
What the Lord has done for us
Giving His broken body
So that we can unite as one
Consider the possibility
Lay aside improbability
Eschew negative futility
Never mind any hostility
Exercise your capability
Employing every utility
Accept the responsibility
Enjoy renewed visibility
Allowing for accessibility
Written June 29, 2022
Someday,
I’m gonna cross over those waters
And leap up on the farthest shore,
Plant my feet firmly in the glory land
And, I won’t hurt any more.
Someday,
Perhaps on a cold, wintry day
When I’m chillin’ right down to the bone,
I’ll take my leave and cross that river
Lots of folks will join me, I’ll not be alone.
Someday,
When I’ve finished here all that I can do
I’ll lay aside all the things I’ve collected
Put down the work I felt I had to do
And hope, above all, it will be respected.
Someday,
All that matters will be that red-haired girl
I hope to meet again on the other side,
Where we will share once again our journeys
She went before, so she’ll be my guide.
Someday,
She’ll show me all around the kingdom
It won’t be anything like I always thought
True freedom and the ability to transport,
Filled with the things the Creator wrought.
Written April 1, 2022
It is important we do not get our knickers in a pinch
And wind up acting like the mean, old Grinch
Especially during this season of happiness and cheer,
Let’s lay aside our nasties and unleash them next year.
Surely if we can be kind and patient for the while
From our critics, we will most likely elicit a smile,
And, who knows, we may even forget our discontents,
For “discretion is the better part of valor” makes sense.
written December 3, 2021
When melancholy drowns my interests,
all seem lost; when black bile's ooze then molests,
I travel through the valley of this death,
lacking life, hope—even desire for breath!
So, myself from blackness I amputate,
spurn whether to self-murder (and brave this fate?);
and lay aside despair and misery,
to fall in love once more with Poetry.
For two loves I have, God and the Muses:
one gives, the other neither refuses.
Before long, the Parnassus heals me in time;
and I grow strong before the end of this rhyme!
For mightier than despair is the Lord,
and the poet whose pen conquers the sword.
. for public domain
We lay aside our wanton pleasure,
to mine the jewels and ore we treasure,
endure hot suns and furrowed brow,
culture new seed after we plow,
despite the moments of regret,
that soil our fruitful silhouette.
We take on task, we take on trial,
for what we see is well worth while.
So too we love as do we labor,
for heart's delight or gentle neighbor,
fruits we harvest but not possess,
but priceless treasure nonetheless.
What genius is in taking IQ tests,
when cures for cancer rot, decompose unfurled
with Mensans and half-brilliant fools? Digest,
then, that with all the intellect in the world
these nerds from wasting their brains fail to graduate,
and lay aside their intellectual games
(like Rubik's Cube) than mentally just “masturbate,”
to never rise to lofty genius's aims.
If Plato, Newton, Einstein, Beethoven,
or Shakespeare had been content to misspend
their gifts away, then the world of mere men
would long have come to its benighted end!
Therefore, reform your minds, ye half-smart fools;
and test yourselves instead in better schools.
When I was young, my Grandpa sometimes used
expressions that seemed corny at the time.
“The Lord gave you two ears, but just one mouth”
revisits me each time my face turns red
because I used my mouth more than my ears.
Fast forward fifty years. It’s very late.
My aging bones won’t get the rest they crave
until the lines my lamp illuminates
convey precisely what I long to say.
I then will lay aside my well-worn book
and favored pen, released to seek sound sleep.
Slight hints of Grandpa often make their way
into my poems. Those, I plan to share
with grandkids, who will smile and say, “That’s good,”
but not with much conviction! They will learn—
I hope—as I did, many precious gems
lie waiting to be mined from “corny” lines
composed by aging poets in the night.
Date posted: June 25, 2020
Poetry Contest Title: The Old Scribe Placed 12th of 13
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
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