Author: Carol Welch
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

As the Sands of Time Flows

Big Sorrel Mare
Love Power and a Sound Mind
The Lamb That Keeps The Rule
Silver and Gold
Wild Goose migration
Ring You Home
Letting Go Frees Me
Hyper-precarious
Rascality
What's in Katie's Basket ?
Country to City
Calling In The Echoes
Autumn Roller Coaster
Fall Festival 2012
September 12 Prayer
Chew or Do
Many-faceted Moods of Autumn
Seal the door
Neon Artists
A Dogs Perspective
Fading Memories of Summer
Autumn Burning
Campaign Duration
What You Might Like
Delicious Fright
Home Coming
She Walked
Election Aftermath
November Observances
The Father's love inside
The Word of Remedy
In The Storm
Let's Give Thanks
What Providence
Computer Time
Growing Into
I walk the Fence
God's Gifts
Good Morning Thanksgiving
Family Man
The Prize We Have Waited For
Donovan's Park
Dropping the Ball
Growing Sweet
Song for the day
The Journey Of Learning
Guide Our Conversation
Means of Peace
Gift Filled With Splendor
Are We There Yet?
Holding and Folding the Years
The Family Christmas
Two Thousand Thirteen's Resolutions
Slate of Resolutions
Pesty servant
USA Panorama
Preparing for the Safari
Today's Perspectives
Martin Luther King Jr
The Winter Doldrums
Winter's Joys and Challenges
Safe and Solvent
Direction of Understanding
Get a Round Tuit
Put Love on the Throne
Crossword Interloper
My Valentine
Stalwart Man
Presidents' Day
Searching in the Edges
Guided past the Stumble
Granted to Hands
The Bringer of Music
Passing fashions
Necessity of Language
Daylight Saving Time
The Stratosphere Ballet
St Patrick, We Hail You
It's rolled away
Being Inconsequential
Touch your Friends
Direct My Part
Who Can Count The Gifts
This Side of Adventure
Trial of Faith
Entrance of a Changeable Entity
Snowbirds
In the Light You Shed
Winter's Over-stayed Welcome
Off the Dock
Simply Agreed
Thunder and Bird Songs
Foliage Mysteries

Big Sorrel Mare

Time had come for the testing, the year's county fair.
He had prepared and practiced and trained,
transported hopefully, the big sorrel mare.
Could good showing this year be attained?

Concerned, she was half-draft, a bit coarse for her class.
He'd shampooed, brushed, trimmed her with care.
To bring out her best as the judge she would pass,
to accent eyes, baby oiled, shined her hair.

There were classes for riding that featured the horse,
others based on rider expertise.
The event at hand, a matter of course,
showmanship; in the past, he'd lacked ease.

He started showing early, horse towering above,
gained her confidence in an earlier year.
In his boyish way, he showed her his love,
saying, "Easy, Girl," calming her fear.

Showmanship: Now each horse entered the ring,
well-groomed horse, polished owner, orderly style.
The judge stood, attentive, bid each leader bring
their horse forward, alert, with poised smile.

The big sorrel mare entered, calm and serene;
her owner watched each move, giving cues.
She pivoted--good; backed evenly--keen!
He winked, eyes urging, "Focus don't lose."

Others began to line up in the ring;
at the judge's word, faced in array.
Then what do you suppose? With a super upswing,
a steer, broken loose, charged in, caused a fray.

Elegant Arabs, ponies, mounts small and large
reared, shied, snorted, the danger intense.
Owners, all ages, strove to protect self and charge
The big mare calmly used common sense.

The steer charged and jack-knifed, bringing panic to most,
circled wildly and weaved in and out.
Spectators froze, as though seeing a ghost;
the mare, unmoved by each bound and shout.

She stepped to the side as the raging rushed near,
backed to give the confused steer some space,
blinked not an eye at rampaging, crazed steer.
Owners soon captured, took him back to his place

Ring attendants, praiseworthy, no focus on doom,
bringing order, the show back on the track,
helping brave young owners, though rattled, resume,
giving youngsters, to show, one more crack.

Gratifying the outcome for that sorrel mare,
her owner, just seeing things through.
For the first time, in showmanship at the fair,
was awarded, My goodness!, first blue.

Remember. dear horse, the steps that we took,
to make this showmanship thing come through.
Stand correctly, pivot away, at the judge always look.
Don't let escaped steers rattle you.

The young owner quipped, while not first in a race.
standing still was her forte, give a cheer!
She, with all of the uproar that took place,
was showcased by a rampaging steer.

©07/27/2012 Carol Welch

Love Power and a Sound Mind

As seasons of a life walk out their span,
may fear be absent or defeated on the way,
and God supply each woman and each man
with reassurance to proceed each day.

From babyhood, when first a child is known,
and seems to grow new talents with each hour,
before the age of innocence has flown,
God grant the soundness of His love and power.

When strength of manhood comes in fits and starts,
and wakening of longing for a mate,
may tenderness and passion that move hearts
be guided by God's power, kind and great.

Then, through the season of the summer's growth,
the guiding hand, enabling them to guide,
and, blessed to have a hand to hold, they both
may pass their blessing to a groom and bride.

Should spring bring floods to daunt the sprouting crop,
or summer, too, bring storms with wind and hail,
when obstacles come, tempting us to stop,
through grief or loss, He'll hold us when we fail.

When leaves turn scarlet with the passing days,
and skies are fickle with changed clouds above,
hands joined, the power that guides minds and ways
be cherished, sound, and grounded in His love.

©08/05/2012 Carol Welch

The Lamb That Keeps The Rule

Where do you suppose the lamb
has gone as time passed by,
that followed Mary, Jan, or Sam,
when school opening brings a sigh?

Could the lamb be summertime,
when carefree dreams hold sway?
Inside walls, as sun does its climb,
not welcome in school's day?

But those who have seen honed desire
in the child returning home
realize some spark brings fire,
more lively than a tome.

Someone has stirred that curious mind,
introduced the needed tool
to dig and try it out and find.
Ha! There is a lamb at school.

And fun and friends bring sunlight in;
ideas root in young minds.
Motivation that gets under skin,
a skillful guide helps to find.

Oh, yes, they love vacation time,
when summer streams flow past the dam.
But fun and love of learning climb
for those who find the lamb.

©08/02/2012 Carol Welch

Silver and Gold

By strains of camp songs, it's been told,
on familiar street's, bustling, lively, view,
unclouded eyes appraise the silver and gold,
regard, cherish the old, welcome the new.

The new, as in news, presentation of facts,
the stable in experience and views set forth,
print that accurately reports the facts,
community issues, both hindrance and worth.

Finger on the pulse, attention clear,
events recall, point out, detail and side,
a team with leadership and style grown dear,
now hands the reins for new hands to guide

The marquis beamed Hollywood's Hey day's best,
promises the town's talent now portrayed,
and sprouting businesses promote the quest,
try the hand by which new enterprise is made.

Our town, the streets familiar to view,
with structures that have stood the test of time,
there is much to value, both old and new,
the silver and gold that inspired this rhyme.

Reflecting the world with its peril and charm,
and zeroing in on local happenings,
to fortify the connection of commerce and farm
productive attitude can give it wings.

So, like the song by campfire's light,
treasure the silver and the gold.
The best of times may be in sight,
if we welcome the new and cherish the old.

©07/27/2012 Carol Welch

Wild Goose migration

There was a time it was a novelty
to see unmigrated wild geese hunker down.
Of course, around picked cornfield, flowing stream,
the wonder caught you more than in the town.

How picturesque, along browned grass and rushes,
their distinctive brown-black patterns and their calls,
milling among the reeds and snowy bushes.
Who would believe their excess would apall?

Fly south, oh lofty bird;It's getting late;
your presence with us cannot last for long.
We allowed you to over populate;
Now we've come to sing another song.

We need to have our walks pristine and neat,
the grass we prize, attractive and all green,
that we know where ever we place our feet
will be respectable, sanitary, clean.

Oh, you, who, soaring, grace the autumn sky,
with call of wildness, dreams of freedom too.
We bid you fond adieu; please rise and fly.
Trust me; the south will surely welcome you.

©08/22/2012 Carol Welch

Ring You Home

Another bell has rung;
another angel danced
welcoming arms outflung,
with warm joy entranced.

When we let go the one
we're privileged to walk,
and love and share in fun,
treasuring her special talk.

It's good to know the way
she walked, looking to Him
for guidance every day,
love filling to the brim.

Her life we celebrate,
a gift beyond compare
Whose laugh and steadfast way,
have blessed us like a praiseful prayer.

And so, the bells that ring,
Though such a sad .adieu,
a thankful Bon Voyage we sing,
It's, Father, home with You

©08/22/2012 Carol Welch

Letting Go Frees Me

I savor now the sweet release and freedom,
when the feeling of the wrong that I perceive,
is allowed to float off on the atmosphere,
as though, the pardon , I, myself, receive.

I don't have to carry the perception
of your perceived faults on my back anymore
Gone from me the load of self-deception,
that changes in you will settle up the score.

I'm free when from blame I have turned you loose,
as though the picture that I held were true.
Gods kindly power allowing me to choose,
my vision cleared, I'm more released than you.

A new day dawns, a day one burden lighter;
from any blame on you, I've been set free.
Now I can hold the gift of zeal much tighter;
the one most caught in the bondage here was me.

I'm free to see you now through eyes objective;
It's a new relation opportunity.
When faults and criticisms are not collective,
there is chance for a rapport for you and me.

©08/24/2012 Carol Welch

Hyper-precarious

How dear you are, my love, your feelings,
or what I perceive that they would be,
seem to send my better judgment reeling,
as their weight, I, misguided, take on me.

I look at all your goodness and your worth,
and reprove myself for my capacity,
to anticipate reactions that come forth.
I wax defensive; it can't all be me.

My love, I wish that I could be objective,
and never mountains from molehills erect.
Hypersensitivity, its mark effective,
puts fear into the real and the direct.

How good, if healing brought an inner peace,
That what we hear, not taken personally,
would enrich mutual rapport, reactions cease,
build understanding between you and me.

©08/27/2012 Carol Welch

Rascality

When we choose to use the larger word,
it's good to know the definition.
That doesn't guarantee you're heard,
but may ward off exposition.

Take the word, rascality,
a picture is inadequate
better a demonstration,
the image to illucidate.

Focus, perhaps upon a friend,
who notes your every fumble,
clowns when serious your intent,
enjoys each awkward stumble.

When you invite affirmative,
negative is in the offing.
The behavior objectative,
given to facetious scoffing.

The contradictions more than ample,
qualifications, actuality.
So let me present my example:
Voila! Here's rascality.

PS.
It was good that I researched the word;
I was thinking of irascible.
bad-tempered, as you may have heard,
making me bait for the above rascal.

©08/30/2012 Carol Welch

What's in Katie's Basket ?

Little Katie Kitten, to do what was fittin'
went over to her grandma's house one day.
She brought a little basket of some--oh ask it,
but Grandma was a sport and guessed away.

Could it be treasure, a bright golden measure,
or could it be a heavenly eclair?
Whatever you're bringin, sets me a'singin'
'Cause you're my little grandkit, oh so fair.

Little Katie's laughter, bubbled out just after,
Grandma guessed these far-out dainty things.
Grandma guessed some more ,her Katie just adorin',
she thought of fancy fabled fairy rings.

Oh, no, those are fleeting, and not for our eating.
They are growing in the meadow far away..
What I have brought is good, just because it would,
start a dear beloved Grandma's happy day.

For my Grandma kitty, it's a little bitty
packet of seed to grow a row of mice.
With some sweet affection, going your direction,
Katie Kitty thought that would be nice.

Grandma Kitty, grinnin', peeked at what was tucked in
the package that she'd guessed the contents of.
Well, my darling Kitty, this isn't little bitty.
It's packed up to the pretty top with love.

The end that is delightful and also is insightful:
the ones that love us much can often sense,
Underneath the paper, an endearing, fragrant vapor,
that trumps any measure of expense.

©08/31/2012 Carol Welch

Country to City

I view the dawn through brightening, hazy essence,
near-full moon paling to the sheerness of a cloud.
I wonder at the city, someday to awe us with its presence,
and a country soul speaks a longing phrase out loud.

A heart that finds enchantment in the eagle's aerie,
whose rapt response is to the craggy heights,
of embracing city streets, is strangely wary;
there is a work to do to see these things aright.

The Lord who gave the soul persistent tendency
to marvel at the pounding of the waves,
must have a plan for those he gives ascendency,
to His vast kingdom, home for those He Saves.

I surely will be given the capacity,
to marvel appropriately at the streets of gold,
still look around without undue audacity,
for some of the rustic scenes my heart stores hold.

As the beauty of Your creation I appreciate,
I ponder how You designed and made it all.
That which I view as natural, and I elevate
is the source of gem and gold so prized by all..

I look into the sky and picture, perhaps, heights,
Your city situated like the eagle's lair,
and You, who gave me the heart to love such sights
will eclipse it all, for You'll be there.

©09/04/2012 Carol Welch

Calling In The Echoes

"Calling In The Echoes From the Hills," he honors her,
as much as a princess in a palace would be praised.
Her yodel ringing out, little hillbilly darling,
to him, is like the finest aria raised.

Champion of the railroad or the highways,
she waits with anticipation for his return.
No mortal man, in palace or life's byways,
can hold the place his personhood can earn.

Who pointed them to a mutual destination,
be they blue collar, lettered ones, or royalty?
To one who will hold each in appreciation,
find the unique in what they do and see.

If You're a hillbilly's honey or a debutante,
the Father who loves you is there to guide.
If you will let His love direct what you want
to the special one His plan wills to provide.

To have and hold if you are rich or poor;
it will not be the golden gain that you'll recall.
Nurture that one to whom your craft you'll moor,
With grit, glad that you heeded to the call.

Be it yodeled song of love or opera,
A song filled with pathos, or jubilance employ.
Days filled with the mundane, challenge, or hurrah,
"Calling in the Echoes of--"Lovers' Concerto>"--Joy..

©09/04/2012 Carol Welch

Autumn Roller Coaster

Over the top, down in the deeps;
transition from summer both dives and leaps.
Just prepare for a day of dank mist and rain,
and the mercury's touching ninety again.

Nostalgic, the array of golden grain sheaves;
and a whirlwind wild dance of bright crimson leaves.
Wild asters through summer, just foliage deep green,
now grace the roadsides, mauve to royal purple seen.

The roller coaster ride from torrid to cold,
with accompaniment of scarlet and gold,
repeats, elevation a bit less each time,
the coming of change to this capricious clime.

Although faithfully coming, the promise bears out,
how it plays with our expectations, roguish bout.
The seedtime has passed; now rich harvest is here;
Those suffering drought, what hope now, what cheer?

Perennially, hearts and the powers that be,
are moved to bring to those who falter, relief..
Over the top and down in the deeps,
join him who dances, lift him who weeps.

A song of encouragement for one who grieves,
renewed joy in the whirlwind of bright, crimson leaves.

©09/09/2012 Carol Welch

Fall Festival 2012

Some dread the chilling, closing out, effects of fall,
and I admit I sometimes feel the same.
However, when the warm sun brightens all,
it casts an added beauty to the leaves of flame.

So, many come to share autumn's grandeur,
to celebrate local spirit and fellowship.
With music, patriotic scene, we make it clear,
Community and fall are loved though frost may nip.

The streets were never grander, set aside,
display creativity and citizens' close bond,
to local history, current progress' pride,
honoring individuals admired and fond.

So, skip along, little dolly buggy display,
your 'mommies' and your clowns and pretty pets.
Soon commence the bands and floats' array,
graced by local beauties, in gowns and coronets.

All ages line the sidewalks, curb or chair;
little ones pursue thrown sweets or novelty,
antique car, the dignity of legionair,
crisp-edged scarlet leaf tumbles carelessly.

Now stand! It's the red, white and blue we see;
from bands, patriotic music fills the air.
For the moment, the focus is on liberty,
and from differences we turn, and usual care.

4-h'ers on their floats ingenious,
portray the enthusiasm and the drive,
of young people and their mentors' usefulness,
these things that keep communities alive.

How blessed we are, with ripened beans and corn,
ready to fill the bins and feed the stock.
Nostalgic mind's eyes picture many a frosty morn,
now replicate the picturesque corn shock.

The frost will come in just a bit, the snow come too,
and festive streets with fall's array tone down.
The memory of found medallion, queens in review,
leave their cheerful fragrance on the busy town

©09/11/2012 Carol Welch

September 12 Prayer

Here I am again; let yesterday be gone;
Thanks for the night and rest to start the day.
It's for guidance I pray and strength to carry on,
wisdom to conduct my steps Your way.

Let me see the rest of Your family,
through the eyes of love you see them through.
Let me see the work that is to be,
as a privilege, dear Lord, from you.

Thank you for the eyes You gave to see,
the trees, the sunrise, the people in my life,
for the facilities to enable me,
to carry on, with minimum stress and strife.

For the tickle in my mind that makes me smile,
at the peculiarities of life and special folks,
who speed the passing of the weary mile,
with rapport and savoring quirks and jokes.

Thanks for giving me the confidence You care,
for each one that I love, though out of sight,
for knowing in the small hours You are there,
and here I am, welcoming morning light.

Thank you that I know that You've prepared,
the way for me when this journey shall end,
through suffering, the price paid, I have not shared,
today's secure; forever's with my God and friend..

Today is in Your hands,

©09/12/2012 Carol Welch

Chew or Do

It's of contention, bones we tend to chew,
results produced are virtually nil;
and droll, if not a useless waste of "do,"
when some real concrete work would fill the bill.

Potential "do' becomes procrastinate,
and burdens heap upon our mental backs,
the task , when finally engaged, is late,
and rushed attempt, a valid outcome lacks.

Now, all these words of "do or don't agree ",
move me to think of where to hang my plan..
When guided by prayer called "Serenity,"
I tend to get a feel for what " I can".

©09/19/2012 Carol Welch

Many-faceted Moods of Autumn

Should I dread tomorrow and its cold?
Today, it seems unreasonable, the rise
in the temperature, the red and gold;
vivid blue frames soft clouds in clear skies.

And, should I mourn the passing of June days,
when flowers opened new, and humming bird
hovered at the flower, thrilled us with its ways,
and, among reeds, the gabbling geese were heard.

One sees bright sumac, crimson at the road,
predicting cold, stalled travel, chilling bones.
Whirling leaves forecast the coming load,
of drifting white; shovel and blade bring groans.

Another sees the lure of skiing hill;
in daydream, hastens the day bright leaves fall.
The whirling snow attending downhill thrill,
amassing depth, it's hoped, seen each squall.

Rejoice for now, though cold's not my forte,
since summer can't persist perpetually;
Or, fly, like humming bird and goose, away,
glad to have enjoyed fall's vibrant spree.

Ducks, wild geese' formation in gray skies
can lift the heart with awe, God's wondrous ways,
Who guides His creatures, gives unto our eyes
the beauty of the world that is today.

©09/27/2012 Carol Welch

Seal the door

The wood door, it seems, has backfired in its use.
No longer do we put the wood chunks in,
some furry little creatures bode abuse.
The actions they intend would be a sin.

They like to find a space through which to squeeze
attempting to pollute, the contents there.
Would sympathy give entrance, lest they freeze?
Or take a stand of action and beware.

No shredding of our clothes is any good,
or leaving calling cards of smell and stain.
We're horrified at thoughts of germ-filled food,
and toothmarks on our woodwork we disdain.

Accepted, they have whiskers cute, neat ears,
and eyes that shine like little onyx beads,
we do not need grey "anything-but-dears,"
to fill, upon our goods, their messy needs.

Enough consideration for the pest.
Take action; stop defiling of our pad.
Seal any crevice he'd explore and test.
Let nature just provide his habitat.

And, that's that!

©10/03/2012 Carol Welch

Neon Artists

They're referred to as commercial, and they are;
still, in my heart, springs up a childlike glee.
While far from rivalling wonder of a star,
I'm thrilled, beholding someone's ingenuity.

When darkness falls in the familiar place,
they turn on, blink, and give their color show.
The stationary radiation, firework's grace.
in their artificial way, a July ago.

Light-formed palm trees, pink flamingos, neon lit,
a whimsical side of tropical appeal.
Designers' originality and wit,
remind us of, in their glitzy way, the real.

Resourceful neon artists portray the charm,
rural scenes where produce originates.
Bright animated line draws chick or cow on farm,
intriguing cuisine for diner as he waits.

Then hailing a depth of meaning so profound,
chasing words spelled out in glowing colors bright,
reminding us that heavenly gifts abound
along with the merry fun of Christmas lights.

©10/04/2012 Carol Welch

A Dog's Perspective

No pets allowed to roam at will
in this municipality.
They've found a way to fill the bill,
and yet we can appear as free.

We fellowship inside our yard
with owners, other pets--makes sense.
appearing free, no gates or bars,
the marvel of invisible fence.

Now, if you chance to be a dog,
your view may differ just a bit,
your life confusing as a smog,
until you get the hang of it.

The fence is out of view but there.
I've jumped across to my dismay.
A jolt so mighty through my hair.
now to go back inside--No way!

And, so, I stand outside my yard;
I've violated trust and sense,
and learned what it means, "Life is hard."
Oh, Master, please turn off the fence.

Wondrous inventions they devise,
that it appears their pets are free,
It's when I am a bit more wise
that it will seem worthwhile to me.

©10/08/2012 Carol Welch

Fading Memories of Summer

Put out a little nectar for the hummingbird,
For the oriole a dollop more of jell,
The chirping songs, so often fondly heard,
Will linger with us only for a spell.

The last batch of swallows prime to leave,
the nest, where they, eager, cram and call,
for more insects brought than you would believe,
and strength build up to fly away in fall.

Daisies have dwindled, poppies given way,
to the goldenrod and plump milkweed pod.
Still, gardeners' pride, vivid, greets the day,
so each new bloom exults above the sod!

The Farmers' market shows off, at its peak,
harvest in abundance shining forth.
Gathering citizens note the subtle sneak,
of unaccustomed cool breeze from the north.

Sidewalks, sites for vintage wares and new,
as sunny days invite a shopping stroll,
soak up waning summer, skies bright blue,
more precious as we see the calendar roll.

©10/10/2012 Carol Welch

Autumn Burning

I may decide to burn the leaves this fall;
Past years, I've mulched them to enrich the lawn.
This time I feel the smell of burning call
and crave the crackle kept close from years gone.

I'd love to roast a wiener on a stick,
to see it crack, emitting savory juice,
and marshmallows melted in s'mores, I'd lick.
Immersed in autumn's best, nostalgia choose.

Past scenes like smoke wisps spiral to the sky;
now, planning with grandchildren, we conspire
to make some autumn memories to share,
while sniffing autumn's fragrance from the fire.

©10/16/2012 Carol Welch

Campaign Duration

We wake up to the late election news,
resolving to take in the next debate,
from excess exposure sing the blues,
but interested even in this jaded state;

As more of 'dis' and negative are heard,
reluctance grows, as faults seen on both sides,
but we'll get out and vote, put in our word;
though attitude of Murphy's law presides.

Best efforts of the major candidates,
it's hoped, will show us remedy and way.
to care for citizens concerns of state .
or win support by clever repartee?

Exciting the development we took part,
when we could cast our vote at age eighteen.
To think the issues of our mind and heart
would hold a valid place in civil scene.

I'm here again, a weary citizen,
worn down by pros and cons of the campaign.
I'm tired of it all, but then again,
it' sure beats anarchy or tyrant's reign.

©10/16/2012 Carol Welch

What You Might Like

I'd like to do a lovely thing,
to please and warm your heart.
Savory, delicious food I'd bring,
or flowers fom the mart.

I'd try to wear your favorite dress,
or style with skill, my hair,
avoid all disarray or mess;
you'll know I'm glad you're there.

It may be that you'll eat the food,
with subjects on your mind,
that you regard as just as good,
more fascinating find.

My dress and hair be simply there,
among matters of our greeting,
ideas more a thing to share,
as we enjoy our meeting.

One may present a good surprise,
if she can really know him.
You'll see that, as one loves, she tries;
I'll give you a poem.

©10/24/2012 Carol Welch

Delicious Fright

Do you recall the tingle,
when lights flickered through the trees?
Sounds of night would mingle
with excitement on the breeze.

You had gotten the permission
to go out with little Joan,
disguised past recognition,
in the silliest thing you'd own.

Sense of anticipation
was suspended on the air.
We'd solicit a donation;
the question was, "But , where?"

Emboldened by our freedom,
venturing to the local store,
our voices squeaked, "We'd eat some."
They indulged us, smiles galore.

The trick now was, return again,
on a road without a light.
We'd pass the vacant house, and then,
run with feet in flight.

Rising moon, its shadows hurled,
provided visibility,
though lending to our rural world,
a mottled shroud of mystery.

Creeping black along the ground,
menacing bear or wispy ghost,
the long, black eerie shadow was found,
to be merely rock or post.

We timidly turned homeward,
reliving the spooky night,
and giggled, recalling the absurd
time of delicious fright.

Today, we take our children out
to neighbors or event that's planned.
They conspire with thrills about
costumes, treats, spook house, how grand.

And, children, being children,
will scare you and surprise,
emerge from places hidden,
laughing with mischievous eyes.

©10/24/2012 Carol Welch

Home Coming

I'll have to hurry very fast just now,
because the time while I prepare,
just disappears, but then, hey, wow!
I'll stop hurrying when I'm there.

I'll see your face, your special smile,
and I'll forget the long, long wait.
But I'll get ready all the while,
then meet you on that special date.

My time is gone; I have to find,
the things I need to take along.
If I miss something we won't mind;
You can buy it for a song.

©10/28/2012 Carol Welch

She Walked

Step-tap-step, step-tap-step, of foot and cane;
she was thankful to be up, with cheerful talk.
In memory was a time that it was plain,
the boys would make her blush, admiring her walk.

Step-ta-skip, step-ta-skip, the sunny trail,
tugging Mother's hand, impatient to be there,
Ring around Rosie, on donkey pin the tail,
running home, feet flying without a care.

Step-slide-step, step-slide-step, the music swirled;
Feet and arms were young, and love was new.
Dreams became reality, a changing world.
Friends gathered round them, sharing their joy too.

Step-pause-step, step- pause-step with Lohengrin,
the slide of satin train, the flowers' scent
Richer, poorer, sickness, health, pledged, and then,
off to a honeymoon, new life, she went.

Step-sway, step-rock, a baby in her arms,
Too soon, to school, some tears, hugs, and good bye.
Seeing every season of her life has charms;
See them walking on their own, a smile, a sigh.

Steps slowed, some joy, some grief along the way;
the footprints that are left mark good that's done.
The friends, the home, the living day by day,
walking, working, sharing sun to sun.

Step-tap-step, it's good to see you're here,
and was through all the years when strength was sound.
The circle has grown, and, as they gather near,
all of these footprints with love abound.

©10/31/2012 Carol Welch

Election Aftermath

The day is here; the die is cast; we'll take results,
move forward with our lives, sameness or change.
One will lick wounds, another one exults.
Either way, challenges will emerge long range.

The candidate we pulled for, cast our vote,
may be on the short end when counts are done.
but, citizens who ardently bid, "keep afloat."
will do their part, regardless of who won.

The candidate, whose promise on the line,
has won the day, will now bear scrutiny.
as both supporters and opponents now incline
to point out gain or slump respectively.

A nation under God has had its voice,
with varied aims and interests in our trail,
worthy , sometimes dirty, made our choice,
believing we, the people, would prevail.

It's time, pick up the remnants of the dream,
to find ways to accomplish what we must.
And, through the dust of conflict see the gleam;
Together, may we say, "In God we trust."

©11/04/2012 Carol Welch

November Observances

November comes, most cloudy of the year,
but filled with special days, events of note.
We first turn back the clock, an hour's rest to cheer,
then, patriotically, we cast our vote.

Our high regard is given to those so brave,
who served our land at home or foreign shores,
our freedoms and our peaceful lives to save,
army, navy, nurses, air force, served in wars.

Acknowledgment for all the blessings named,
lead to the day Thanksgiving is proclaimed

©11/05/2012 Carol Welch

The Father's love inside

They live in places hard to reach and far;
with voices seldom heard by waiting ear.
Could they be reached by telephone or car?
It's busyness prevents their presence here.

Then, what's to be the answer for this jamb?
Could I, myself, be better company?
Perhaps seek out truth of the great I Am,
Who also is the reason I can be.

He tells me that it's love fulfills the law,
but legislated, forced it cannot be.
Surrender soul; allow the Lord's , "Aha."
Trust Him to open eyes to see.

Reach out, whatever way He seems to guide;
and let Him show you how your love to give.
It's only with the Father's love inside;
let Him fill you and then, step out and live.

It's worth a try; there's nothing here to lose.
A mind that's willing and a tender heart
thus can receive and act; it's mine to chose.
I'll take a step and trust He'll help me start.

The places then, remote and hard to reach,
may be accessed by loving thought. and prayer.
The Father ever there to guide and teach,
will show me; trust, and find His answer there.

©11/06/2012 Carol Welch

The Word of Remedy

A pattern or a photo envelope?
I know you think it's the old fashioned way.
That's not what matters now. I feel a dope,
because I can't find what I put away.

The notebooks with recycling are mixed,
and memos that were made to guide my day,
are nowhere to be found. Can this be fixed?
I guess that hated word will now hold sway.

No more can unnamed clutter be endured,
nor aimlessness with purpose be disguised.
It's ruthlessly this malady be cured;
I'll bite the bullet and get "organized."

©11/06/2012 Carol Welch

In The Storm

When thunder passes, wake, the sun breaks through.
Though torrents of rain and wind obstruct our plans,
pick up our packs and pick a path that's true.
A guide with power then our vessel mans.

Around us, storms serve to reveal the light,
and hindrances set steel in our resolve.
Not in ourselves is found the needed might,
But trust One who can point the way and solve.

As whipping branches break the forest calm,
and meadows flatten in the wind's onslaught,
the traveler, hunched to keep a little warm,
may find his way when a wise strength is sought.

Results of letting go, a lighter heart;
the mind, unburdened from confusion clears,
and, midst the storm, one finds the better part,
when in the soul, a whelming peace appears.

Serenity's, not only, we see now,
in quiet place of calm and sunshine found.
The bluebird, singing on a wind whipped bough,
shows peace inside can sense peace all around.

©11/08/2012 Carol Welch

Let's Give Thanks

Let's say thanks for all, another year,
the days of bounty, dearth of fear,
hearts to treasure those held dear.
Let's give thanks.

Our loved ones near and loved ones far,
our home, our pantry full, and car,
we have a voice, no freedoms bar.
Let's give thanks.

The trees bear leaves and give us shade;
in summer, we have lemonade.
If alert, on time, the bills are paid.
Let's give thanks

It may not go just as we planned,
but opportunities are grand,
and God works good by His great hand.
Lets give thanks.

Good health--most days--is to be prized,
friends whose love is undisguised,
treasures abound for ears and eyes.
Let's give thanks.

Dear ones we've had, dear ones we hold,
within our hearts, more rich than gold,
warm thoughts to keep away the cold,
Let's give thanks

Eyes open, good on every flank,
though we may not be suave and swank,
our best assets are not in the bank.
Let's give thanks.

©11/10/2012 Carol Welch

What Providence

In this vast sphere of persons, every kind,
how is it any of them find rapport?
That wondrous time of meeting of the mind,
a precious gem among the treasure's store.

What gladness, when attractiveness of face,
appealing, may be due to soulful bond,
and gratifying, how the heart sees grace
in the manner of the one for whom we're fond.

The twinkle of the eyes when recognized,
may say more than our faltering words convey,
as evidence of like approach, surprised,
emerging of a soul bond on the way.

Infatuation may begin the link
or mutual interest when we brightly see.
Oh, wonderful, when what we feel and think,
is shared between those loved well, you and me.

©11/10/2012 Carol Welch

Computer Time

I can only hope, in rhyme,
This same machine that took the time,
that we would walk that we would talk,
gave me the way these words to say,
"The time to talk and love and walk,
is precious." It's a sticky way.

May this machine in its own way,
prompted by me, the love convey.
And then the time that seemed so lost,
would be redeemed and worth the cost.
It isn't gone when on and on,
the heart still beats with feeling sweet.,
and this machine obeys.

©11/15/2012 Carol Welch

Growing Into

Recall --the snowsuit bought too big,
and jeans, you wore the first half-year,
tucked in and belted, jury-rigged,
worn out when fit was near.

Or, when the boys' hair, nearly shaved,
delaying time for another cut,
the money seasonally saved,
was used for--who knows what.

Some things too big and some, too short,
our youthful lives endured.
We waited for the growing spurt,
that made "just right" assured.

Now that we are mature and grown,
we can buy our clothes to fit,
even-- unrealistic--oh, moan,
think we'll diet into it.

In every small unpleasantness,
like with prickly thorns, a rose,
we feel a bit of happiness,
if it's only hair that grows.

©11/16/2012 Carol Welch

I walk the Fence

A season of heartfelt thankfulness,
for all gifts that our live do bless,
freedom, bounty, love, and home,
safety that vigilance has won.
I walk the Fence.

Traditions have become our style;
let's add to celebration a smile.
The turkey's part in the happy day,
in these lines, we'll let him say:
I walk the Fence.

I stay hidden in the fence rows all the time.
As a turkey, seems Thanksgiving is a crime.
To you, cranberries and stuffing may seem fine.
I use some sense;
I walk the fence.

Though it's portrayed with muskets and with bows,
It 's really an axe job, as everyone knows;
I don't make noise with leaves around with my toes.
I'm not that dense;
I walk the fence.

I don't begrudge the folks in Amery
for joining in the feast with family.
You have much to be thankful but me,
In self-defense,
I walk the fence.

I don't relish the portraits that you see,
the table trimmed with cuisine and those like me ,
From Thanksgiving celebrants, I'll flee.
As feasts commence,
I'll walk the fence.

©11/18/2012 Carol Welch

God's Gifts

Who can count the gifts that we receive?
The blessings about us inter weave:

The image of a special, loved one's face,
a snowy, lifted seagull's wheeling grace,
the subtle color of a dewy flower,
vast color change of sky at twilight's hour.

See skilled precision of a knit design,
the vivid twining of a scarlet vine,
dear rhythm of a friend's familiar walk,
expression of face changing as we talk.

Unfolding of a newly budded leaf,
appearance of the actual seals belief,
our heart in awe and thankfulness then lifts
when open heart and eyes behold God's gifts.

©11/19/2012 Carol Welch

Good Morning Thanksgiving

Good morning world; it's Thanksgiving day.
The memories rush in with tear or a smile.
Our bounty recall, received on the way,
friends, family, sharing each mile.

Little ones 'round the table with sayings so bright,
grandparents there, precious, we've realized,
their sojourn with us, a short time their light,
their sweet treats, jokes, and manner we prized.

Today it's our neighbor or children far off,
or, if we are blessed with family close,
we join in to give thanks for goodness and love,
for safe travel, the roads, and the rose.

The plenty we have, while some are oppressed,
or, bravely, doing without daily needs.
A prayer is included with thanks we express,
Dear Father, let our steps kindly proceed.

The lessons we learn in the obstacles faced,
the chance to give others a lift,
the reward of seeing the faith we have placed,
help us grow or succeed; it's a gift.

Good evening, dear friends; it's Thanksgiving day.
We rejoice in the time spent with you.
Before the day ends, we doubtless can say,
That our thanks overflowing is true.

©11/22/2012 Carol Welch

Family Man

These words aren't easy to put on the page,
but 'family man' persists upon my mind.
The green, carefree boy, now has come of age,
and must within and out, resources find.

To earn a fair wage, to support a wife,
and find time for sweet ways he began,
in days of dating, continue on through life,
already a challenge for any man.

To add to the mix, their love brings to life,
a boy or a girl, or perhaps, a brood.
More mouths to feed, and still, the precious wife,
who needs to feel beloved to feel good.

The Father in Heaven, all-knowing, knew the best,
Help would be there, as He, only can.,
for the boy who grew, if he holds to the rest,
strong, loving husband and a family man.

©11/25/2012 Carol Welch

The Prize We Have Waited For

Black Friday now has come and gone;
some got, some not, the prize.
For that special gift, went out before dawn,
to light up a pair of dear eyes.

They were just released, off fifty per cent,
a savings that would astound,
a spot in line, seemed heaven-sent.
Hopes, flagging, again would abound.

Black Friday now has come and gone;
Some, resignedly drove back home,
picked up a few things to light up the lawn,
shop more in the days still to come.

It reminds me of the cold, dark night;
I hear that they traveled far,
and found no lodgings to ease their plight,
but a stable, then light of a star.

Makes me think, when hopes long adrift,
seeming dim and far out of sight,
the world was given its greatest gift;
A stable shone in the star's bright light.

We put up lights and buy the gifts,
for loved ones close and far.
We wait for the celebration that lifts,
What God gave with a stable and star.

The shining star on top of our tree,
reflects in our dear ones' eyes,
reminds us, His Son , our lives to free,
God gave us in love, Heaven-size.

©11/25/2012 Carol Welch

Donovan's Park

Tucked there in a haven near Highway nineteen,
a peaceful road winds among homes and palms.
Pond, placid, embraces a fountain's cool sheen,
and we're greeted by smiles bright and warm.

If ever you walk on a street filled with friends,
their porches offering a welcome to you,
You'll know what we feel, and before the day ends,
think of us; come, enjoy with us sometime too

The company of those young at heart, we enjoy,
sharing wisdom, love of life, from life gained,
hearty laughs, competition, sometimes employ,
a kind hand in times of sorrow or pain.

Bright flowers and foliage, entrances bedeck,
and the gathering place where we meet,
welcome friends from Louisville to Quebec.
Of common ground and divergence we speak.

It's a friendly haven near Highway nineteen,
where palms wave you a greeting sincere.
Turn into our gates; a welcome is seen.
Smiles will tell you, we're glad that you're here. <

©11/27/2012 Carol Welch

Dropping the Ball

There's a day I need forgiving,
when all the things I know of living,
things I know and could do rightly,
are done wrongly and unsightly,

let you know you can depend on
what I shallowly intend on,
see an image back reflecting,
missing what you were expecting,

Missing what I have been used to.
I believed and didn't choose to.
I look at the situation,
left in inconsideration.

Whom I think I'll stand for, fall,
wondering what can save it all,
what can lift the dismal pall
when I have dropped the ball.

©11/30/2012 Carol Welch

Growing Sweet

"You want to be a sweet old man?"
He said, :"Then, day by day,
live life in sweetness as you can;
put bitterness away."

"Today's kind word and pleasant smile
build for our future state.
It seems to snowball by the mile,
can't cram if it gets late."

We watched his life; he worked with zest;
with love, took time to play,
coached kids to learn to do their best,
in his jolly, loving way.

When hard times came, with ready smile,
said, "There's a remedy,
that will ease, as well, another's mile;
I'll trust God's will for me."

They say, "It's nice to walk the walk,
as truly as you can."
With passing years, we've seen the talk,
lived out by a sweet old man.

©12/01/2012 Carol Welch

Song for the day

A new song, a way to start the breaking day
get dusty heart and blurry mind in tune.
Let music lift the common daily way,
while softly fades the pale departing moon.

Now, gradual glowing of the eastern sky,
as night gives up its deep and misty hold,
blithe birds know this and soar and play on high;
gray changes to clear azure and to gold.

Just flow along, oh song, some moments more,
before the busy pace of day must start,
and motivation turn from reverie to chore,
knowing, work, too, has music in its heart.

©12/01/2012 Carol Welch

The Journey Of Learning

It seems that it's a classroom every day;
what I learned and practiced years ago,
is another lesson; each step of the way;
always, there is so much left to know.

Through small attempts, a taste of trial or strife,
a way to face it and proceed is found.
on ever shifting ground of current life,
we learn and relearn, and the world goes round..

The Irresistible and the immovable
contend to gain the subtle upper hand.
while love and joy and peace aspire a full
endorsement to gently take command.

Struggles within, firmest resolves, all vie
to learn the hard-earned, valued lesson well.
With temporary triumph, followed by a sigh,
when circumstances common sense dispel.

We make a choice, then live with the results,
options, doubt, and puzzlement abound.
We can look for good or look for fault,
When all is said and done, the world goes round

For wisdom from above we learn to pray,
when to give way, and when to stand our ground,
and learn that it's all right to grow each day.
We learn and relearn deeper, and the world goes round.

©12/03/2012 Carol Welch

Guide Our Conversation

It may be what was said was true.
sincere and most well-meaning.
The way it was received fell through.
Was it words needed screening?

Or, is it that too much was read
into your conversation,
or, was it taken personally,
then, result-- insinuation?

Some words are better left unsaid,
but, communication lacking,
relationship falls dull and dead,
the closeness, then, hijacking.

There must be a common ground,
if two apt minds can grasp it,
with touchiness and doubt not bound,
and harmony, warmly clasp it.

It partly is a trusting heart,
ready to see the kindness,
partly lips, sensing Spirit's part,
wisdom overcoming blindness.

So, help again, as in times past,
to guide our conversation,
so harmony and joy can last,
giving love and admiration.

©12/10/2012 Carol Welch

Means of Peace

Peace on earth.
Remembrances of that day of infamy
bring us scenes of shock from former times.
Now death's terror in our foreign embassy,
Troops returning hear threats in another clime.

Good will to men.
Recriminations fly from every side.
The economy is down; blame now or past.
Natural disasters swell the doomful slide.
We ask, "How long can this direction last?"

Glory to God.
When, one by one, good hearts reach out with aid,
and folks hold to what's right undauntedly,
hope lends its voice that heroic moves be made,
with knowledge power divine it has to be.

In the highest.
So, coming from His throne of majesty,
to earth to empower hate and strife to cease,
a way to set our souls from bondage free,
that tiny Infant's cry brings means of peace.

©12/10/2012 Carol Welch

Gift Filled With Splendor

We want to give and get gifts filled with splendor,
that wow the receiver, don't break the sender.
But we ought to remember,
when comes each December,
there are facets a little more tender.

Magi of old gave their bountiful gifts
O. Henry's couple brought tears and heart lifts.
We become so inspired,
beyond what is required.
Like Scrooge's heart change, it's so swift.

Like the comical brat gettin' nuttin',
that may hit our mood on the button.
May we be reminded,
the star, if we find it,
will help us be seeker, not glutton.

It reminds us of gifts of the spirit,
that trump all these gifts if we hear it.
All mankind receives,
when each one believes,
their Savior's come; sing carols and cheer it.

Halleliujah, the angels are singing,
of blessing our Father is bringing,
to a sad, dumpy earth,
God's Son, our Savior's birth.
So, ring Christmas bells; keep on ringing.

©12/10/2012 Carol Welch

Are We There Yet?

When we were small, we used to ask,
"Are we there yet? It is so long."
Now, be on time is more the task.

Then, kicking back, we'd idly bask,
passing the time, the quest prolong.
When we were small, we'd ask and ask.

Too many questions, imps unmask.
Though we'd been glad to go along.
To be on time was more the task.

With Christmas close, time slowly passed.
Could miles pass better, spent in song?
When we were small, we had to ask.

Some celebrate with shot and flask;
We dreamed of presents, bells' ding-dong,
To Just sit still was now the task.

"Could I amuse you with a mask?
Are we there yet? It seems so long."
When we were small, we used to ask.
On time, to loved ones, travel's task.

©12/15/2012 Carol Welch

Holding and Folding the Years

It's a new year, new week, new day.
Will we live it wiser, better?
Learning from the old, a new way,
like the unfolding of a letter.

Face with fortitude the looming;
know each day is a new page.
Let the past go, no weights dooming,
bits of wisdom grasped, engage.

Smoke dissipates from old wick burning;
Specter of Old Year drifts away.
Pristine, the new: apply the learning
to the challenges of the day.

Little by little, not assuming,
like a snowball, as we live,
grows the New Year, stalling, blooming,
time fulfilled in what we give.

Of all wisdom, now , the Giver,
Father, God, to be our guide,
quiet stream or raging river,
this New Year's oncoming ride.

Goodbye, Old Year, daunting, charming.
Reluctant--gladly--bid adieu.
Thanks for experience, forearming.
Ring out the old; ring in the new!

©12/19/2012 Carol Welch

The Family Christmas

Dogs leaping, tails wagging, tongue dripping,
company comes edging by,
ducking, or rushing to hugs just skipping,
Apples of their grandma's eye.

Barely time to get their wraps off,
turkey tucked in the big roaster, stuffed,
moms assured of no sniffling or cough,
as they beg for sliding hill, snow all fluffed.

Some games brought thoughtfully, for playing,
occupy a corner of the floor.
Grandma , preparing, is wistfully saying,
"Maybe later, will be time for more."

Gathering, laughing of sisters and brothers,
catching up on the year that has passed.
Younger ones get re-acquainted, with others,
making memories that can last..

How they did it, the teamwork, beauty prepared,
then gathered children, rosy from snow,
with bowed heads, a father led thankfulness shared.
How lefse, cranberries and turkey did go.

Boys tested limits of sugar lefse could hold;
moms and girls took orders for pie.
Off on a sleighride, in spite of the cold,
while Grandma drove 'til too cold by and by.

Families, one by one, all packed up too soon,
and good-byes were smiled through some tears.
wistfully wagging a sad little tune,
dogs, now in kennel, each goodbye shares.

Dear faces, by firelight, hands busy, kind,
all honoring the Guest of the day,
Who brought us the hope we're so grateful to find,
Lord Jesus, keep all on their way.

©12/30/2012 Carol Welch

Two Thousand Thirteen's Resolutions

I've listed them in one, two, three;
changes I hope to implement,
to make a different me to be,
productive, cheerful, and content,

The years that formed the self I know,
have built in features I've attained,
by how I've faced each boon and blow.
It seems some worth I might have gained.

Two Thousand and Thirteen, let's look,
at what is gained and what is lost.
The red or black marked in my book,
to change things now, which ones? What cost?

To Heavenly Father, I look in prayer,
how can I live a better year?
What's done in love,patience, and care.
The order is big; I'll face my fear.

It's revealed; I have one day to live,

with bits of learning I've accrued.
If I trust my God to give
the wisdom, I won't come unglued.

It's in the now, with grateful heart,
a fresh perspective spurs the way.
With my list, one, two, three, a part,
Two Thousand Thirteen, day by day.

©11/22/2012 Carol Welch

Slate of Resolutions

A new slate, like a blanket of snow,
pristine and unbroken the page,
until, when the intention we show,
on the paths, faults already engage

Unbroken, the goal, a year fresh and new,
but, where ever I go, there I am.
So, kindly, myself and others I'll view,
knowing that we all battle with sham.

So, kind Heavenly Father. show us the truth,
and strengthen our backbone to stand.
While to age You add wisdom, verve to the youth,
let us, guided by You, understand.

Our frame, set in motion, trusting each day,
strengthened, weeded of doubt, as we go,
bright hope under-girded, as we make our way,
a New Year, determined to grow.

:Like the slate that needs the erasers touch,
when filled with with real content or smudge,
it's forgiveness wipes out so much,
and we pick up, regroup, onward trudge.

©11/22/2012 Carol Welch

Pesty servant

Blessed nuisance, Heaven sent,
should you in startling tones reveal,
could you bid cold hearts relent
to evidence that more is real?

More is real than they accept;
a love avails that they deny.
And in argument adept,
refuse that not obvious to the eye.

Would you, with regularity,
bring attention to the need?
To know the Personality
that could give peace if they would heed.

How loving warning of a friend,
or one of kin who truly cares,
with terse dismissal, talk will end.
But, if power unseen the message bears,

with callous rejection, or pierced to quick,
would not a voice from source unknown,
with fear or curiosity prick,
Faithful servant, let him heed your tone.

©11/22/2012 Carol Welch

USA Panorama

From the sands of Sarasota,
where, through palms, the breezes blow,
to the lakes of Minnesota,
covered deep with ice and snow,

hearty folks pursue their liking;
sports and nature they embrace.
Trails and track places for biking,
lakes for swimming or a race.
.
Ice fishing with joy endues them,
satisfying northern souls.
Out-of-state wags accuse them,
that they cheat by drilling holes.

In the mountains of Alaska,
or the city by the bay,
or beloved Lake Itasca,
near Mississippi's source, they say.

So, if you're out for skiing,
be it downhill or the lake,
the USA for doing, seeing,
powder trails or foamy wake.

©01/06/2012 Carol Welch

Preparing for the Safari

Just open up the cover page;
adventure greets us, all the rage,
of flora, fauna, strange to me,
inhabiting each stream and tree..

There are a few things, keep in mind,
to learn; don't leave good sense behind.
A crocodile, though smiling wide,
would not mind having you inside.

And, Dear, a dangerous affront,
to anger a big elephant,
and lion, roaring on the track,
if you turn, run, you'll meet the pack

of lady lions; feeding cubs.
Don't think you'll fend them off with clubs.
Fascinating creatures of the plains,
wildebeest tear across all terrains.

Let's hope the cheetahs do not leap,
as they overtake our jeep.
Drum beats in jungle grass-thatched huts,
palms bearing heavy coconuts.

And naked natives, bless their hearts,
with basketry, cloak private parts.
The zebras, though to eyes appeal,
will not be tamed as pets, for real.

If all this seems to you irrational,
check it out in Geographic National.

©01/06/2013 Carol Welch

Today's Perspectives

I'm looking at a half-full glass,
half-empty, if I choose to see.
Battle it out, or let it pass,
amazed how changed the same can be.

Let the winter doldrums crush me,
see dull times as opportunity.
Incite new ideas, push me
into absorbed activity.

Hard for some, the changing seasons,
with discomfort, still bring thrills.
consistent warm days--different reasons,
test those who have abandoned chills.

Dull days can prompt us, go and visit
some one whose choice is less diverse.
Our hang up, how important is it,
when lifting one who has it worse?

If choice brings earnest application,
or the luxury of gathering wool,
purpose in our occupation,
can show a glass "very" half-full.

©11/22/2012 Carol Welch

Martin Luther King

You stood, your people to bring hope
be raised from an inferior place in life,
promote society where like efforts to cope,
bring brotherhood beyond the blocks of life.

You saw the man of brilliant mind put down,
the woman of grace and charm sent to the rear,
and, though it cost turmoil and raging town,
you spoke your dream, equality, for all to hear.

To see the plight of people that God made,
improved, and respect and worth expressed,
through all the turmoil, though the price be paid,
Dignity and opportunity are blessed.

This day is set aside to honor vision, heart,
A man not afraid to sound the wake up call,
a day of victory for lives with better start,
more poignant, knowing that it cost your all

Now, this old world has a long, long way to go,
to see past black and white and Greek and Jew,
but man, here, can less color bias know.
This special day, for what you've done, we honor you.

©01/19/2013 Carol Welch

The Winter Doldrums

The winter doldrums well may come;
we intercept with valentines.
and don't accept the hum drum; drum.

It matters not where you are from;
the need for interest inclines,
find zest when winter doldrums come

Romance can make the season hum,
the crackling fire, scent of pines,
enchantment as bright snowfall comes.

You may find that you're more than chums,
when it's spelled out on valentines,
some change, when winter doldrums come.

and, when one day, your gray hair comes,
and you relate, "Oh, child of mine,
we don't accept the hum, drum, drum."

Bright times in life, when found the sum,
just when the mood around declines,
Winter doldrums, expected, come,
Receptive hearts ward off "hum drum."

©01/22/2013 Carol Welch

Winter's Joys and Challenges

It's clear the cold has taken hold
in the land where cornfields waved.
Snowmobile and skier, with zeal,
have elements cheerfully braved.

White trails are groomed where daisies bloomed,
and single light beams pierce the night.
On snowy hills, the laughter trills,
as tubes sweep out of sight.

Those who brave the next cold wave,
in their work or duties employed,
we salute and admire, earning their hire,
in ways many would not have enjoyed.

So, drink steaming cups of cocoa right up.
be glad for time spent 'round the fire.
See the mercury dive; stay warm and alive.
Bundle up in your warmest attire.

God gives some a taste for cold gladly faced,
and the shoosh of skies on the trails,
for others the desire of a nice, cozy fire,
or summer's lake, pontoon, and sails.

©01/22/2013 Carol Welch

Safe and Solvent

We were taught emphatically in drivers' training,
that defensive driving simply is a must.
Consider other driver's urgency in gaining
an extra car length; don't be rattled by his dust.

A sate distance kept with the car before you,
gives margin to adjust your speed or lane.
Your rear view mirror reveals the car behind you;
a tail-gater can make sudden stops a pain.

There's the darting lane change artist; be aware of
his sudden maneuvers; may be rushed for lunch.
A cool appraisal may eliminate the scare of,
frantic avoidance of the dreaded crunch

Your signal gives alert to your intention ;
just be aware there are those who do not
signal in time to get the attention,
of you and others, causing a threatening spot.

Remember, offensive driving is no option,
no matter how your need for time demands.
The red, blue blinking lights come into vision.
Instead of fast trip, you'll have loss on hand.

"Fine," you'll not interpret at all pleasant;
it may be just "fine" for the local till.
So, drive to keep your speed safe for the present,
and note, it's not time to disperse your will.

A few more weeks of icy road condition:
a good start allows us sensibly to act.
Avoid being in this week's news edition.
Arrive alive and with our funds intact.

©01/22/2013 Carol Welch

Direction of Understanding

I thought, if I tried hard enough, I might find the way,
to get the point I tried across, in hopes that you might say,

"I see exactly what you mean. I'm glad that you could share."
Although I tried a dozen ways, I still could not get there.

My mind was boggled with attempts to be understood.
The many way to express it seemed to do no good.

A bit of prayer I'd heard one time suddenly seemed grand;
I'd seek less to be understood and more to understand.

©01/29/2013 Carol Welch

Get a Round Tuit

A "round tuit" was the token
he gave to bring to mind,
that these words often spoken
reflect the state where me, he'd find.

"I'll surely get it done," I'd say,
"I do intend to do it."
though, it may be another day,
when I get around to it.

On my refrigerator door,
taped that round disk, printed, "tuit"
reminded me, in every chore,
I'd get around and do it.

©02/01/2013 Carol Welch

Put Love on the Throne

We look again at all the big, red hearts,
and at the cherubs with bow and arrow grasped,
revel in romance the special day imparts,
stars in the eyes, excitement in the hands we clasped.

Love songs promote the chocolates to buy,
and filmy scarves and fragrant aftershave.
Of every sort, the bling attracts the eye;
texting goes wild, and Facebook shares the rave.

A lot of "likes" are stated on that medium,
simply approval though they be, it's true;
When 'likes" are revealed by a special one,
Valentine's real draw comes into view.

Though we may become a bit blase,
sentiment just seeming out of style,
it's still true that Cupid has his day,
When certain smile meets that special smile.

The time has come; express the warmth we feel;
Put doubt and cynicism on the shelf.
Love from above makes the present real,
love-giving as St. Valentine himself.

And, while we're at it, with love on the throne,
there are the parents and grandparents too.
And children and grandchildren, folks alone,
Not only Cupid can send love, but me and you.

©02/01/2013 Carol Welch

Crossword Interloper

If a crossword puzzle is started,
This observation I've made:
that some helpful one,so glad-hearted,
finds all the words you delayed.

Hide it secure in some closet;
or never be one who solves.
Don't expose it; if you should pause it,
They'll have done it before clock revolves.

For puzzle solving, a comrade
can be a most welcome plus.
If, unknown to you, the besmirched cad
solves it, Oh, Boy! What a fuss.

If you hold your tongue in grim silence,
he will smile a smug, "Well, I won."
Remember, do not stoop to violence;
hide it next time-- and chalk up to fun.

©02/11/2013 Carol Welch

My Valentine

All around us, we see hearts,
expressing special bonds and wishes,
to be in another's life a part.
Won by chocolates delicious?

Remembering Saint Valentine,
who blessed with loving acts, though loss
was his lot, not heady wine,
or sweet love won, or being boss.

The kindness of the one who cares,
the precious beauty of God's earth,
and, heart appreciating shares,
from life's strange turns, a witty mirth.

So, life hands out what is in store,
and we can stand in loss or glee.
Then I find sweetness all the more.
I share with you and you with me.

©02/14/2013 Carol Welch

Stalwart Man

Stalwart: we picture pioneers,
staunch fighters of the past.
With sword and gun, our victories won
for a freedom that would last.

We see the statesman, patriot,
refusing to be bought.
They risked the life, stood strong in strife,
for liberty they fought.

And, yet, today a stalwart man,
is needed in our land,
to expose the false, promote the truth,
these principles to stand.

We tip the hat; thumbs up, we sign,
to whom in word, deed, thought,
his country's best and God's design,
adheres to: patriot.

©02/16/2013 Carol Welch

Presidents' Day

We honor the memory of the wise and brave,
who led us through victory or woe.
A precious heritage they helped to save,
and nurtured our freedom to grow.

When we were possessions, a profit to gain,
for a nation more powerful than we,
patriots overcame, for freedom to reign,
Chose first president, for land of the free.

When George Washington struggled along with his men
through the hardships, victory was won.
A new day brought forth, no bonds again,
Picked with gleaming hope, he led on.

As the union advanced, new problems arose.
Could slavery and freedom, too, coexist?
A hero, common, but wise, and we chose,
Mr. Lincoln, who would bondage resist.

While historical searches find personal facts,
bring to our eyes the most human traits,
with heartfelt thanks. we remember their acts,
that helped form and keep the United States.

So, we march on this day in honoring throngs,
erect monuments, place flowers on graves,
and thankfully sing patriotic, glad songs,
The Star-spangled Banner, bless them, still waves.

So. remember their loyalty, wisdom, and strength,
As we patriotically anthems sing.
Follow their example, and then,at length,
again, proclaim, "Let freedom ring."

©02/09/2013 Carol Welch

Searching in the Edges

I looked for Him in thunder that echoed through the air,
the daily course of issues that appeared
In lifting mist of dawn, I seemed to sense Him there
I sought His wisdom, sensed the gap I feared.

The hints of His existence are vast and plain to see;
my heart is touched by fringes of His ways.
Provision of my needs in life, by Him, I know to be,
but I want to hear His voice and see His face.

The precious printed message preserved across the years
gives knowledge of His Father love and care,
providing the redemption for our foolish ways and fears,
free from results of sin, our wrongs, the snare.

The kindness of Your hand, dear Lord, when showing me my wrong,
the lift of heart equips me to go on,
the ways you show my neighbor's place with me among life's throng,
When You show me you love others, woe is gone.

The change, my view of life brought by Your influence,
not being center isn't such a pain.
Welcoming a day instead of dread, I sense,
Can there be more of You I could attain?

Well, I'll just walk along today, glad that you're on hand,
to strengthen me to meet what can take place.
And, while I walk, I'll trust that You will help me understand,
how You're here until I come to see your face.

©02/19/2013 Carol Welch

Guided past the Stumble

Sometimes we have to stumble
to find the hand that leads.
We who would never fumble
find we bite the hand that feeds.

How often, so misguided,
we believe we're on the track;
By circumstances chided,
see better looking back.

And learn to watch the words we speak;
Keep them sweet; with care we'll treat.
The message to convey we seek,
may be what we must eat

To pray for guidance first, may be
what minimizes falling.
Through wiser glasses we might see
the path we feel is calling.

So, avoiding that old rut and pit,
enabled, motivated
by the One who can accomplish it,
when we have sought and waited.

©02/19/2013 Carol Welch

Granted to Hands

Five fingers joined intricately.
a miracle so commonplace,
but planned by God that man could see,
a work of power, a touch of grace.

The chords and melodies that rise,
and touch the heart with sorrow and joy,
a sculpture, painting, thrill the eyes,
through skill and will, led to employ.

Hands that spanked me solidly
brought good, though so hard to believe,
helped an unwilling mind to see,
then held, with guidance there to leave.

Hands that till the fertile soil,
crumbling it in fingers deft,
emerging sprouts reward the toil;
the warmth of partnership is left.

Left within the mind and heart
by One of power, broad and deep,
Who can growth to soil impart,
bless hands that His creation keep.

©02/24/2013 Carol Welch

The Bringer of Music

What's that trill, in shadows still?
It sings from secret little nook,
in blades of grass, near window glass,
near the foundation. Oh, hear! Look!

Tiny black fellow traveler, sing;
ears, all curious, take it in.
Oh, creature small, pure tones you bring,
vague remembrance of angel's violin.

Young eyes, to investigate,
lean in and take in, nose to nose,
so near, antennae almost graze,
the speechless wonder, leaning close.

The legs, amazing legs, apply;
leg on leg, produce the trill,
a miracle before the eye,
so ready to with wonder fill.

No ear to share discovery,
but father God looked on with glee,
that in the shadows, mystery,
opened to bring a song to be.

Little cricket , opening doors,
to a world of tones and harmony,
the angel's violin of yore,
symphonies of heaven and earth foresee.

©02/28/2013 Carol Welch

Passing fashions

Petite paisleys decked menswear just for awhile;
salmon prevailed, and orchid and pink.
Ivy league straps and buckles passed by in style,
Norfolk jackets, bell bottoms, in sync.

Cargoes are in with pockets on legs;
Spandex is only for sports.
Grungies, dropped crotches, symptoms of the dregs,
of what current fashion purports.

The daisy-decked garlands, patch patterned flares,
peasants and fringed skirts saw their day.
Chain-draped leather and dew rags have their place,
but Levis are never passe`.

©02/28/2013 Carol Welch

Necessity of Language

The word escapes me, as many words do.
Is it that I'm expecting too much?
Vast, empty, longing, rolled into one,
sentry's farsightedness and such.

The soul has such breadth, such capacity;
words seem almost outside the need,
superfluous, but we're so glad to see,
that there's one to state feeling or deed..

A glance that identifies with its mark,
warm hand reassures it's sincere.
A tilt of the head show intention to hark.
Still, the right words make the meaning clear.

©02/28/2013 Carol Welch

Daylight Saving Time

Long evenings we anticipate,
before the sun goes down,
to do more before it's late,
sidewalks rolled up in town.

True, morning will be longer dark;
dew lingers 'til forenoon.
Will the proverbial meadowlark
then hail the setting moon?

In standard time, some miss sunrise,
now, up to see that sight.
To church on time, if we were wise,
set clocks ahead last night.

A pseudo-wise old man once said,
(foolishness and logic blend)
"To make longer rope, cut off a foot;
add it to the other end."

©02/03/2013 Carol Welch

The Stratosphere Ballet

Oh, bird, majestic, soaring in the sky,
your wingspread hints an eagle you may be,
but no bald crown or white tail meets the eye.
A lesser bird, a vulture, do we see?

All eagles have not plumage black and white;
and, too, wind's force and lift may others aid,
and elevate to elegance, the flight,
in league with airy elements, high, unafraid.

Your species still a question in my mind,
performing in that awesome way, who'd care?
That stratosphere ballet, I, breathless find,
my earthbound soul, transported to the air.

It's God who choreographs the breezy sky;
base vulture, noble eagle glides and plays,
with thrill, reward the joyous, upturned eye.
How bountiful to view this wide world's ways.

©02/06/2013 Carol Welch

St Patrick, We Hail You

It's in merry March we'll rise and sing,
to keep Saint Patrick's Day.
Corned beef and cabbage we will bring;
we'll feast and music play.

With jigs, parades and fellowship,
and wearing of the green,
honor a saint who scales would tip,
so God's good will be seen.

Drink a toast to good old Ireland,
native son and adopted kin.
Hug a waist, and shake a hand;
let love, lore. laughter in.

Though folklore says he drove out snakes,
we give thanks to Father God,
most for the fact, for people's sakes,
he brought faith to the loved Old Sod.

©02/07/2013 Carol Welch

It's rolled away

It's rolled away! Oh, look, the stone is rolled away!
They stood incredulous that morning of all morns.
Heavy-hearted to prepare their Lord for burial day,
in the aftermath of scourging, cross, cruel thorns.

Did the words He'd said now ring a bell?
And, did the shining angel truly say,
"He is risen." Did they hear Him tell,
that He would arise on the third day?

Amazing, how His followers were informed;
How many lives He's ransomed since that day.
And many a heart with sin by evil stormed,
is touched by Him, and sees, "It's rolled away."

With flowers and bright symbols, Easter morn,
that joyfully say, new life has come to stay.
We tell again the victory over cross and thorn,
sing, "Alleluia!, yes, it's rolled away."

So, many a home, where hope is lost in doubt,
and many a home held tight in sin's cruel sway,
the Father finds, and should they grasp, brings out.
They live anew because,"It's rolled away!"

©03/08/2013 Carol Welch

Being Inconsequential

Inconsequential:
surely not a situation we would try for,
not using our potential,
a title to attain we would not vie for.

But, when a wild creature covertly spots his prey,
or a bird of rare color lights to briefly preen,
In water, rounded eyes a pond denizen betray.
What wonders, in obscurity are seen.

Transfixed, I watch the unexpected pelican,
perch, launch out, raise up on long, arched wings,
dive shallowly as if for gold to pan,
tilt his long beak, let slide in tasty marine things.

The snakebird, draped out feathers, dries his wings;
blue heron tips its head, lets airy plumes flare out.
In reeds, an unseen bullfrog sings.
Hear, gathering at times, the gulls coarse shout.

Being part of the action, great in some activities,
but nature blends its reticence with lively show.
In the background, a quiet watcher sees
wild creatures gathering when life is slow.

To see the behavior of wildlife, it's essential,
appreciate being thought inconsequential.

©03/09/2013 Carol Welch

Touch your Friends

I do not want to tell you what
Jane or John should do.
Still may incidental thought
seem to reflect on you.

You've told me with a wise approach,
their way is not my field,
to analyze or to encroach,
lest, finding fault, I yield.

A friend can sometimes open eyes,
when we hear him out,
and we can also see the wise
slants two can bring about.

Our brothers, sisters, whom we love,
walk paths we can't unravel.
And, though we argue, plead or shove,
It's friction-filled as gravel.

So, let the whirling dervish dance.
May be the Holy Spirit,
will touch our friends with, "It's your chance."
and they, receptive, hear it.

©03/24/2013 Carol Welch

Direct My Part

Lord, Father God, it's thanks to you
for waking me today,
with thoughts and sense of old and new,
and tempering my way.

Reminding me that falling short
is part of life's condition,
and pangs that come, the startling sort,
can point to changed position.

Seeing efforts coming forth,
bravely walked out by others,
can help us relocate true north,
and gain a view as brothers.

The task you give us for this day,
direct me and enable,
me realistically to lay
my due share on the table.

©03/25/2013 Carol Welch

Who Can Count The Gifts

The image of a loved one's face,
a snowy seagull's whirling grace,
subtle color of a flower,
vast sky change at twilight's hour,
precision of a knit design,
bright twining of a scarlet vine.

Beat of a friend's familiar walk,
expression changing when we talk,
unfolding dewy verdant leaf,
image that confirms belief.
Longings that cause us to seek,
seeds of faith that grows and lifts,
songs to sing and words to speak.
Life: Oh, who can count the gifts?

©03/25/2013 Carol Welch

This Side of Adventure

Though I've never born an ocean's storm,
like poets gone before us,
I tend to spy in my mind's eye,
waves crashing fiercely o'er us.

And, when I'm in a traffic jamb,
and must proceed with care,
I sense the feel of steel on steel,
because I have been there.

I've seen menacing grill and headlights,
of an approaching car,
and tried to swerve, but bridge on curve,
served my escape to bar.

Now I can attest to this;
I'll take imaginations.
Though experience lends truer sense,
it may leave lacerations.

If writings show of what we know,
and we detest affliction,
best not aspire to happenings dire,
best issues tame or fiction.

©03/26/2013 Carol Welch

Trial of Faith

When you give your best and more,
love of the Father to extend,
to bring prosperity, wide the door,
to good for all, desired end.

Some seem to strip the blessings out,
leave only shells of fruit that's planned,
promote thoughts of offense and doubt,
inclination to God's message banned.

But, stand, you must and surely will,
desiring to give Him all,
a man opposed, God's man still,
and let the chips fall where they fall.

©03/27/2013 Carol Welch

Entrance of a Changeable Entity

Like sad-sweet cooing of a mourning dove,
soft wind gently sighing through the trees,
balmy change from March's, raucous winds above.
Can it be April tiptoed in, a springtime tease?

Nostalgic dreaminess to blazing sun,
only to dissolve in mists again.
April brings her fickle greeting, flighty one,
bombastic thunderstorm to nesting wren.

Foolishness of nature now confounds the wise,
as in the sadness of Good Friday Jesus died.
So the understated drama thrills our eyes,
new life on Easter, resurrection realized.

In the gray and dripping dawn, she makes the scene,
tomorrow, skipping lambs and chirping bird.
Gray-dry stalks of last fall's grass replaced by green,
and in the freshening marsh, the frogs' song heard.

The pussy willow and hepatica bud forth;
light breezes blow white clouds in skies above.
Daffodills and tulips laugh at winds of north,
bright colors offset gray brown of the mourning dove.

©03/31/2013 Carol Welch

Snowbirds

Next month,we'll dwell in other states,
and, on our way, meet different faces.
How a familiar friend elates;
pick up our lives in far-off places.

And, still, our hearts to this place cling,
while we'll anticipate, as well,
returning, as we do in spring,
to the home we summer-dwell.

We'll fondly trust with faithful heart,
that summer keeps you safe and sound,
and through the time that we're apart,
we think of having you around.

Then, in the fall, with hearts aglow,
we'll leave the north for palms and sun,
anticipate the friends we know,
again, with joy, greet everyone.

©04/01/2013 Carol Welch

In the Light You Shed

Dear Lord, my Father God, as You look at me,
in the light You shed, may You see tenacity,
the courage to go on, knowing that You stand,
securely holding my world in Your powerful hand.

Daring to follow because I know of love,
that is there for me at Your throne above.
Knowing that I'm standing where Your light can shine,
and guidance that I seek from You alone is truly mine.

Help me let go of all I seek besides your will,
Your leading in unlighted, unknown places faithful still,
and all of those I love, I pray your angels tend.
I ask Your Spirit touch them; help me comprehend

Your ways so far beyond mine, just a little bit today,
And, as I trust You, I'll hang on and dare to go Your way.

©03/08/2013 Carol Welch

Winter's Over-stayed Welcome

Old Man Winter, give us a break;
What of April don't you understand?
We don't think it's time for deep ice on the lake
and snowdrifts all over the land.

We thought last October, as leaves drifted down,
"Again, we'll see growth in the spring."
Equinox, vernal, has now come and gone;
we applaud the brave robins who sing.

Bunny ears, baskets, chocolate eggs put away,
we're looking ahead for the best,
that these showers of snow and rain, too, come May,
herald posies and birds in their nest.

The snowdrifts, we grant, and the blustery, cold rain
bring much-needed moisture for crops.
With the promise of seed time and harvest again,
we can cheer with the robin's bright hops.

So, dear Old Man Winter, we'll give you a break
from our tongues so quick to complain.
You gave snow for skiing, fishing ice on the lake.
After spring, summer, fall, you may reign.

Carol Morfitt Welch

I hope, by the time you may read these words,
that our theater of seasons may,
change to a scene of sunshine and birds,
a winsome and warm springtime day.

©02/01/2013 Carol Welch

Off the Dock

When I was once pushed off the dock,
I actually could dive;
While wavering in readiness,
I was only half alive.

The water, when I over-balanced,
readily welcomed me,
and buoyed me up as I reached out,
the surface, then, to see.

When teetering, thinking what to do
to make a mark today,
reprove myself for bogging down,
as hours slip away,

You came along and touched my thoughts.
I disdained the ticking clock;
thanks, you piqued curiosity,
and pushed me off the dock.

When, on another day I stand,
held captive by the clock,
I hope a lively mind like yours
will tip me off the dock.

©02/01/2013 Carol Welch

Simply Agreed

Friends who agree to disagree
are worth their weight in gold.
Their comrades they allow, be free
their different views to hold.

Lively, warm variety
can deepen friendship more,
perhaps, than passive symmetry,
of thoughts to feign rapport.

A gemstone sometimes found within
these open-handed ways,
a situation called win;win,
'brought by unbiased gaze.

Wise words; "Can two walk side by side,
unless they are agreed?"
And, simply to agree to walk,
and talk is good indeed.

©04/30/2013 Carol Welch

Thunder and Bird Songs

The time of singing birds, at last, has come.
Thunder in the night left gleaming pools.
Our motivation turns to busy hum,
with fertilizer, yard and garden tools.

Our spring show, followed by snow, rightly trumps
fierce winter, soundly vanquished , hopeful note,
lifting children and home owners from the dumps,
and families dreaming of days on their boat.

But, more than all of these awaited and glad signs,
deep inner souls, by promise realized,
move forward, and warm confidence inclines,
to all that memory's treasure, spring, has prized.

Not only in the beauty and enthusiasm born,
but, truly, the provision for our lives.
It's in the growth of oats and wheat and corn,
vegetables, and stock our life derives.

So, when the thunder peals and songbirds sing,
and we take pleasure in mild warmth outside,
we revel in vast wonder that is spring,
and see, firsthand, our Father God provide.

©04/30/2013 Carol Welch

Foliage Mysteries

Among the mysteries that nature weaves,
as seasons tell predictably their tale,
through winter, tenacious red oak leaves,
to their branches cling, though storms assail.

Autumn's ruddy flame and wine-hued gown,
tossed aside and shed, they lightly fall.
revealing sky where they have tumbled down,
but red oak leaves hang on through it all.

While branches bare, the conifers excused,
scenes display, in summer hid from view,
deer and squirrels their autumn crops perused;
red oak leaves still rustle neath the blue.

When pussy willows greet with peek-a-boo,
and frogs in ponds sing out until the dawn
staunch red oak leaves their wonder do;
in a sudden shower they shroud the lawn.

©05/01/2013 Carol Welch

Table of Contents

Big Sorrel Mare
Love Power and a Sound Mind
The Lamb That Keeps The Rule
Silver and Gold
Wild Goose migration
Ring You Home
Letting Go Frees Me
Hyper-precarious
Rascality
What's in Katie's Basket ?
Country to City
Calling In The Echoes
Autumn Roller Coaster
Fall Festival 2012
September 12 Prayer
Chew or Do
Many-faceted Moods of Autumn
Seal the door
Neon Artists
A Dogs Perspective
Fading Memories of Summer
Autumn Burning
Campaign Duration
What You Might Like
Delicious Fright
Home Coming
She Walked
Election Aftermath
November Observances
The Father's love inside
The Word of Remedy
In The Storm
Let's Give Thanks
What Providence
Computer Time
Growing Into
I walk the Fence
God's Gifts
Good Morning Thanksgiving
Family Man
The Prize We Have Waited For
Donovan's Park
Dropping the Ball
Growing Sweet
Song for the day
The Journey Of Learning
Guide Our Conversation
Means of Peace
Gift Filled With Splendor
Are We There Yet?
Holding and Folding the Years
The Family Christmas
Two Thousand Thirteen's Resolutions
Slate of Resolutions
Pesty servant
USA Panorama
Preparing for the Safari
Today's Perspectives
Martin Luther King Jr
The Winter Doldrums
Winter's Joys and Challenges
Safe and Solvent
Direction of Understanding
Get a Round Tuit
Put Love on the Throne
Crossword Interloper
My Valentine
Stalwart Man
Presidents' Day
Searching in the Edges
Guided past the Stumble
Granted to Hands
The Bringer of Music
Passing fashions
Necessity of Language
Daylight Saving Time
The Stratosphere Ballet
St Patrick, We Hail You
It's rolled away
Being Inconsequential
Touch your Friends
Direct My Part
Who Can Count The Gifts
This Side of Adventure
Trial of Faith
Entrance of a Changeable Entity
Snowbirds
In the Light You Shed
Winter's Over-stayed Welcome
Off the Dock
Simply Agreed
Thunder and Bird Songs
Foliage Mysteries