Longing for the good old days and a great old lady

As kids each summer we would go
to Grandma’s house in Idaho.
In Nez Perce country near Lapwai
we had a five-star place to stay.

With cousins we’d play by the hour
within the barn where hay bales towered.
We’d ride the horses, milk the cows
and toss old corn cobs to the sows.

We all found shade on her front porch.
The summer sun could really scorch.
And side-by-side on Grandma’s swing
we’d listen to the robins sing.

At night we heard the crickets chirp,
while watermelon we would slurp.
We’d fall bone-tired on our beds
and dream of how we’d soon be fed.

The frying bacon woke us up.
The fresh-squeezed orange juice filled our cups.
Her eggs and spuds adorned our plates.
First Grandma prayed and then we ate.

We kids ate much but she ate more.
Her height and width were 5 feet four.
But we weren’t bothered by her weight.
It was good proof her food was great.

And there we’d sit when we were done.
Those table times were lots of fun.
Our Grandma spoke of childhood
back in the Blue Ridge Mountains wood.

She told us how she met “The Greek”
who coaxed a smile when he would speak.
His accent made his English fun.
And soon enough, her heart he’d won.

She’d arch her eyebrows and she’d wink
which caused us kids to sort of think
that maybe some of what she’d said
was bull that was baloney fed.

I miss those days at Grandma’s place.
I miss her girth and godly face.
I miss how simple life was then.
I wish it was like that again.

The Heat is On
Contemplating the nationwide heat wave

It’s hot as …
Well, it sure is warm!
The heat-caused fires
have done much harm.
And truth be told
this summer?s bound
to take a vicious toll.

From Portland, Maine
to Oregon,
we’re victims
of a blazing sun
who’s showing off
his solar strength
and proving he?s the boss.

The mercury
is rising fast.
How long will this here
heat wave last?
Is global warming
why it seems
Mom Nature’s really steamed?

Those cooling shelters
give relief.
But when it comes
to loss and grief,
there’s nothing
anyone can do
to heal a broken heart.

So when your town
at last cools off,
remember some
still have it rough.
Consider them
who’ve lost it all
and say a prayer for them.

Honoring the legacy of Seth Cook

His first name? Seth. His last name? Cook.
His old man face made people look.
His suffered from a rare disease
that made him age too soon.

And though at times some kids were rude,
Seth shrugged them off. His attitude
is one we all should emulate.
He chose to wear a smile.

That three foot giant died last week.
His death has caused our eyes to leak.
The wit and charm that Seth possessed
can’t fully be replaced.

We ache for what this boy endured.
The stinging taunts he likely heard.
The dreams he’d never realize.
The curse of being odd.

A precious lad whose years were few
was living proof that what we do
means even more than what we say.
Seth taught us how to live.

He even taught us how to die.
While voicing dreams, regrets and whys,
Seth faced the future unafraid.
He knew that death meant life.

O God, be near Seth’s mom and dad.
Because he’s gone, they’re feeling sad.
They miss their boy whose loving eyes
gave us a glimpse of You.

Something to ponder this 4th of July:
A Paris Vacation

The birth cry of Freedom
heard so loudly at first
from a baby delivered in pain
can’t be heard by deaf ears
in a nation at risk
that ignores those first sounds
to its shame.

What once moved us with passion
in decades long past
doesn’t grip us the way that it did.
Seems our hearts rarely race
while saluting the flag
like when pledging allegiance
as kids.

And the right to assemble,
to worship and vote
has become commonplace in our minds.
To the fact that we’re privileged
to do what we do
we’re clueless
and too often blind.

We all take wealth for granted.
We think we’re still poor.
We forget that most all of the earth
tends to struggle with basics
to just stay alive
while we minimize
what we are worth.

It seems we have forgotten
the 4th of July
isn’t just an excuse to have fun.
In addition to hot dogs
and cold Mac and Jacks
on the lake in the warm
summer sun,

we have good cause to gather
with family and friends
and thank God for the land of the free,
for all veterans who served
to assure us the right
to both practice
and prize liberty.

For the numberless options
and chances to choose
where to live, what to eat and to wear,
for the laws that protect us
from what is corrupt
and that shield us
from what isn’t fair.

For the peace on our home front
and allies abroad
and for soldiers who willingly fight
against forces of terror
with suicide bombs
who are dead-set
against human rights.

Let us thank God for Freedom
birthed so long ago
and the labor preceding her cry.
Let us ask Him to help us
again hear her voice
amid fireworks
in the night sky.

A Paris Vacation

It’s not what you think.

A Paris vacation.
I need one.
Don’t you?
Not flying Air France
but by fleeing the news.

Forget all the tabloids,
both print and TV.
We really don’t care
about Paris. Do we?

Let’s boycott all Hiltons.
Tent camping is best.
From Paris’s exploits,
we all need a rest.

How will Britain’s new Prime Minister vote on Iraq?

Number 10 on Downing Street
is now the Brown Hotel
There is a new Prime Minister
and we Yanks wish him well.

A Church of Scotland manse was home
to Gordon long ago.
This P M was a P K once
in pea-green wet Glasgow.

A preacher’s kid? in Parliament?
Prime Minister no less.
Let’s pray that means he’ll talk with God
about the Iraq mess.

His countrymen are up in arms
about the war they face.
A war that Tony handed him
most Brits think a disgrace.

A war that just keeps going on
and seems will never end.
And yet a war that can’t be won
without our allied friends.

A black mark on our President
is Gordon Brown’s concern.
Will he be yellow and pull out?
I guess we soon will learn.