If I helped in the/
Creation, I’ll own ‘skeaters*,/
because they feed birds.
(aka mosquitoes*)
OR
*lake bugs,/
If I go to a/
meeting where all are sad, should I/
get sad or lift them?
Though writing’s painful,/
my musings should make you glad./
It shows we’re growing.
My kids could have said:/
“Dad, remember who you are/
and what we stand for.”
Her affectation/
of pronounciation/
effected me/
negatively./
It’s linguistic frustration.
A friend said she was concerned that, although she wanted to do good, she was not, and would never be, “good enough”. (See the previous poem: “Making up the Difference”.) I responded that none of us are “good enough”, but …
With Jesus’s help,/
we can all be good enough/
and rise to glory.
Or
… rise to greatness.
When you stand and preach,/
doesn’t the mem’ry of what/
we did call you out?
OR
When she teaches, why/
doesn’t the memory of what/
we did trigger guilt?