Dad Morning Poems

THIS MORNING I HEARD GOD SPEAK THROUGH THE WORD 

I just can believe yet I believe as I so received
My Father
My Dad
My God
Spoke to me

THIS...

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dawn by the river
daylight has barely arrived,
mist dances gently

morning reverie
how perfectly the songbirds
fill the silence

the sun is his clock
accurately keeping time
has the time he needs

old...

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My normal walk this morning wasn’t as normal as it seemed…
which made me question if I was truly walking…or walking in a dream.

As I stepped...

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Molly sat on the backyard porch 
Watching the kids play when Dolly 
Emerged from the doorway and 
Sat with her. "Hey sis how's it going...

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The dawn chorus has just begun,
And up out of bed jumps my darling son,
“Get up my Dad, come and play”,
But I‘ve only just got to...

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Millie Brown was 12 years old.
Who didn’t like to do as she was told.
She didn’t eat her greens or even brush her hair,
As she’d spend...

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11 o'clock at night. Everyone is 
In bed. Molly was in the adjoining 
Room with the seven and 
Desharah. Damian was awake
 and Planning. Dominant...

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I grew up with Country music
Loved its simple themes
It’s been my constant joy
For ever or so it seems.
Bobby Bare’s on the Bose
Singing a tear jerking...

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Every morning I see my dad in the mirror.
Same hazel eyes
Same round chin
Same freckles
Same bad teeth
Same straight up haywire hair
“Hi Dad!” I say
My eyes grin,...

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The black dog stood out in contrast to the snow drift Arlis found her half buried in.Emaciated she was a light load as he hoisted...

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In that late August morning
millions of eyes were crying
for the death of their king...
they longed for his voice that was beyond thrilling!
Elvis' life suddenly ended...

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-Sweet Melancholy-

Limbs shot with a breeze on the neck.

I digress. With the pigment of widow’s wail calling for atonement.

I hated my father, but not my...

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Soon the sun will glow
Through the east facing blinds
I haven't worked in seven months
Yet I rise every day before him
And write a poem or two
The...

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Like the early morning mists 
That rise from the waters’ depths
Memories emerge in swirls and twists
Foggy shadows of lives past 
Of them all, childhood scenes...

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Our boat is first to slice
The green snake skin of Clam Lake
This Saturday morning in May

Heading east to the mouth of Grass River
Where angry Pike...

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