Gone-bies...

Gone-bies are Zombies
We no longer can see.




They were here before,
My dad got to the door.




But now they're no more..
They vanished through the floor...




                                      They're Gone-bies,
                                      Can't you see?!

Wishing for Winter Near November... In Alabama...

"Let me pretend like it's Winter,
So I can wear my new scarf around,
And slide on my pink gloves that Mommy has found."

"I'm in the Winter now," she pretends,
"Let me go put on my jacket."

"Daddy, can you help me put it on?
The zipper is too tough
For my fingers covered in gloves."

"Sure, baby, but just for a minute
It's much too warm still
Even though it's almost November."

"Why isn't it Winter yet, Daddy?
I want to wear my new scarf and gloves!"

"No worries, my dear.
It will be cold enough,
As soon as March is near."

Gathered 'Round...

To be gathered 'round with friends and family
Makes hearts warm as together we
Give thanks for blessings with bended knee
To our God above who, one day, we'll see
Gathered 'round with those He'll be
Who aren't here to hug so happily
Their hearts more sure than ours may be
Till we all are gathered 'round eternally

From Cold Rain...

Cold rain drizzling.
(Entombed indoors all day.)
Warm drink sipping.
(Layered blankets, a shallow grave.)
Bound heart freeing.
(Lazy day with you. Oh, keep raining!)

Elsewhere holds my heart in vain,
But here with you from cold rain.

No Hitter!

The ball was thrown
And the wind was blown
When the bat was swung
As their heads were hung
Because I just pitched
My first no hitter!

Fall Is Upon Us...

It’s hard to believe that Fall is here, calendar-ly speaking; the thermostat laments another tune.  Arguably, Autumn is the greatest season we’ve been given. (I will argue differently in the Spring and Summer.  No one defends Winter, however.)  There’s so much coziness that is brought upon us, or its need for coziness, while the wind chills the air causing us to wrap up a bit more tightly before we head out on all our goings about.  The burnt color palette of turning leaves is picturesque and invites us to bonfires and roasting marshmallows with friends and family.  Our summer desires of candied flavored snow cones and fresh squeezed lemonade are no longer the song of our taste buds.  The tune has turned toward warm jazzy notes of pumpkin spiced lattes and caramel macchiatos, or more simply to the sweet yearning lilt of a tune – hot chocolate. 

Hayrides and pumpkin patches abound as does the desire to snuggle up to a terrifically plotted scary movie… not too scary, mind you.  The thrill of bundled up ballgames on Friday nights and walks in the early evening under a sprouting harvest moon makes the Fall a great time for love.  Whether it’s the excitement of a young, new romance or the frisky flirting of one more mature, there’s just something about this season that gets in ones skin. 

Autumn is felt and smelled as much as it is lived in.  It’s identified by the turning of things and more sadly by the loss of some of those same things.  I say, for one day far from now, “Bury me in the Fall underneath flamed turned foliage of some beautiful oak or aspen, as the leaves swirling-ly descend downward to fresh dug dirt of dire demise, my spirit will be able to ascend upward through bejeweled boughs as I go up, up past yellowed moon and dazzling sparkle of evening stars.”

Falls is upon us…

You Move Me Still...

You move me;

I move away from You.

You call to me;

I ignore still.

You’re there for me;

I love only me.

You would die for me;

I fashion a crown of thorns.

You defeat death for me, rising from deathly hallows;

I build castles over your grave and crown “I” as king.

You are relentless;

And I am relentlessly, evilly indifferent to You.

You pull on heart-knitted-strands whispering to me that “You are near…”

I see my kingdoms void of truth then You move me still.

I fall under the weight of Wind-Strewn-Conviction…

You call to me.

Your whisper-breath-presence over my fluttering, vapid heart gives rise to sweeping chills of possibility.

You’re there for me, always there for me…

You’re relentless in pursuing the "No-Good-Gift-of-Me…"

I’m at my end.

I relent...

You relieve...

We rejoice.

You move me still…