photograph originally posted on Controlled Chaos
July 27th, 2006
Photographer: Rob Harrington

photograph originally posted on Treemendous
August 29th, 2006
Photographer: Basil Dray

A dog named Doug met Ambrose Bierce
… within a book one day.
The words they jumped right off the page
… and caused the dog to say,
"Oh, the wonder of these words,
… they surely must be mine!"
So the dog named Doug created a blog
… which simply is divine.
A place where wisdom, wit and ridiculous
… all meet in one accord
To thrust and parry, swashbuckle and flash
… swift as a dueling sword.
People travel by 'net the world around
… to insult boast and mug;
And when you ask them why they say,
… "Ya gotta dig that dog named, Doug!"

written for Doug of Waking Ambrose

Green, waving toward heaven,
reaching for blue sky
and cloud mists;
the grasses of spring
whisper soft
and shake their tasseled heads
as they dance to the rhythm
of the wind.

photograph originally posted on Controlled Chaos
August 22nd, 2006
Photographer: Rob Harrington

We married in June
surrounded by roses and
joy everlasting.

October arrived crimson
called forth by your flying fist.

As leaves fell from trees,
and the cool night air grew chill,
my pride withered, too.

Apologies and remorse
bathed me after each bruising.

January found
me huddled against sudden
violent flurries.

You hated to hit me, but
I could not keep you happy.

Now tender green grass
grows upon my cold, dark grave.
Finally I am free.

In court you beg for mercy
That you did not have for me.

in loving memory

Suave and debonaire,
he flits from blog to blog
flirting lasciviously,
leaving bits of innuendo
for each lovely maid.

He tenders verse in
one size fits all,
insulting ladies
left and right
in commonality.

Sublimely unaware of his offense,
he recoils in suprise when confronted.
Oh how it pains him to be labeled
feckless and insincere; he leaves,
proclaiming himself betrayed.

Of course he knows,
she still loves him;
how could she not?
He is a legendary Lothario
in his own mind.

no dedication is attached to protect the guilty

Communing with nature
… on the porch swing,
… coffee in hand,
… peace in my heart,
I am joined by my beau,
… small, green,
… with little suction cup toes,
He clings to my leg
… and we swing,
… gently swing.
He worships me with his eyes,
… watches my lips sip coffee,
… and yearns for a kiss.

written for Nea of The Southern View

Without leaves for seasons
innumerable,
it's branches long since
snapped away, only it's trunk remains
stabbing defiantly toward
the sky.
Perhaps some glimmer of life,
some memory of green,
still pulses through it's core
as it watches yet one more
Sunrise at Maple River.

photograph originally posted on Controlled Chaos
June 30th, 2006
Photographer: Rob Harrington

Experience taught me that denial brings comfort.
… Jesus demanded truth.
Experience taught me to reject pain.
… Jesus challenged me to embrace it.
Experience taught me not to trust.
… Jesus asked me to risk.
Experience taught me to expect rejection.
… Jesus said, "I love you."
Experience taught me I had no value.
… Jesus paid his life for me.

A butterfly vacationed down at the sea,
It danced o'er the waves and beckoned to me,
Come skip through the water, come frolic in the spray,
So I danced on the beach with a butterfly today.

for Pauline, who once wrote a poem for me.

Teenage strife
clashes with parents
tomorrow lurks beyond the moon
and life
seems about to happen
elsewhere....

Snow blankets the ground.
Old Man Frost touches the pond;
gently it shivers.

Majestic mountains
stand off ocean tides while
supporting heaven.

Fairy mist wraithes
perform a midnight ballet
atop ebony waves,
their skirts a flutter.
Seeped in moonshine
their silent recital
sings peace for my soul,
gifts joy in my heart.

photograph by: Rob Harrington, Controlled Chaos

A guiding lighthouse,
your word provides my daily
illumination.

The black midnight sky
split with a roar, as lightening
bridged heaven and earth.

The Lord will provide
for obedience to God,
Genesis explains.

One soul longs for beauty,
One soul longs for light,
One soul longs for comfort
In the middle of the night.

Beauty does not linger,
Light begins to fade,
Comfort finds herself alone
In a bed too poorly made.

Wish instead for wisdom,
For courage and for might,
So that you will prosper well,
Whatever shapes your plight.

Old Sol claims the sky
by day, sweetening the fruit
for the harvest moon;

in your eyes I long to see
a desire for my heart,

Leaves begin to turn,
soon the air grows crisp and chill,
the sun grows aloof;

but you gift me with no smile
and hope withers in my breast.

Snow blankets the ground,
breath hangs upon frigid air
and ice rules the day;

like frost you chill my passions.
I no longer seek your charms.

Tender leaves unfurl,
life reaches toward the sky and
timid blossoms bloom;

your interest in me only flares
as my passion for you wanes.

Skirts a-flair, daisies
dancing in a green field,
worshiping the sun.

originally posted: 08/07/06 @ A Day in the Life ....

Amber waves of grain
call to your wandering heart,
come home on the range.

originally posted: 08/05/06 @ A Day in the Life ....

As the deer pants for
streams of water, oh my Lord,
my soul pants for you.

originally posted: 08/05/06 @ Matthew 28:19