Saturday, August 31, 2013

White Rose

As a bride adorns herself with her jewels, 
so the Lord God will cause righteousness
 and praise to spring up.
From Isaiah 61

White rose, you are 
Like a wedding in one bundle,
Silk and satin of a bride's gown,
White, white, white for purity 
Tiara of gold for honour, for dignity
Circle of gold for commitment and endurance
Touch of pink, like a flower girl's dress,
For innocence, for sweetness, for fun
White, white, white for true love
White rose, you glow with beauty, with glory, 
Sparked with yellow for light, for truth, and for joy
You are fragile as love that must be tended
Underneath—green for growing, 
Strengthening, renewing,
Love reblooms 
More beautiful each time.

Friday, August 30, 2013


Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble there's no place like home.
John Howard Payne

Home is where seven-sisters roses trundle on the gate;.
Home is where the door is always open late
Home is where supper waits to warm your plate
Home is where the morning glories grow.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

A Good Read

"Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, 
 I  would still plant my apple tree." 
Martin Luther

I chose the book carefully
Mystery tale with the scent of the library
My favorite smell

I climbed up into the apple tree
Pulled my book up in a bucket after me
My favorite place

 Settled on a branch with a view
Chose an apple, red-skinned and white-speckled,
My favorite fruit

Sat quiet—and bit into it
While I sucked the sour apple's juice
My favorite story

Wednesday, August 28, 2013


How wonderful, O Lord, 
are the works of Your hands....
The beasts of the field, the birds of the air bespeak
 Your wondrous will. 
Hebrew Prayer

Painted pony,
Grazing in the late summer pasture
Munching green prairie grass
Tail swishing away flies
Mane blowing in a light breeze
Do you see the barbed wire as a prison wall
Or the safe boundary of a home?

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Apple Pie

I will send you rain in its season
 and the ground will yield its crops 
and the trees their fruit.
Leviticus 26:4

There is applesauce bubbling
 And a crusty deep dish pie
 Cortland, Granny Smith, and Northern Spy,

All the finest cultivars
Red Delicious, Enterprise, Elegant, and Rome
The smell of spicy sweetness calling us home;

To crisps, juice, and jellies
Pippin, Winesap, and Arkansas Black
Johnathan, Jonagold, and Jonamac

Macintosh, Honeycrisp, 
Red, green, and the prettiest yellow
Honeycrisp, Ozark Gold, and Sunnimellow

Autumn comes and summer goes
With apples, apples, apples.

Monday, August 26, 2013


Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, 
I would still plant my apple tree.
Martin Luther

 Orbs of white flesh
 And syrupy sweet tart juice
Wrapped in polka-dotted green 
Sunshine. Apples, apples, apples
Hanging ripe—ready to be picked 
Stems twisted and plucked 
So firm and real in my hand 
So imperfectly perfect 

Sunday, August 25, 2013


The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, 
shining ever brighter till the full light of day. 
Proverbs 4:18

 The sun's so bright in August
The sunflowers nod their heads
By noon.

The sun with rays like primary
Yellow strokes on a child's painting
By God.

Is copied by this blossom
A sun on each stem–full faced
By me. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Let's Go That-A-Way

Stylin' in Arkansas
Taking a Sunday afternoon drive
Going nowhere particular
Cruisin' Main; feeling free.

Rollin' down the highway 
Following a dream
Seeking my fortune
Rockin' to my tunes.

Friday, August 23, 2013


"One generation passes away and another generation comes,
but the earth abides forever."
Ecclesiastes 1:4

Great great grandma wore a bonnet
When she worked with her garden hoe
When she planted lettuce and radishes
And cleared the weeds from every row.

Grandmother wore a bonnet like this 
When she hung her laundry to dry
Fastening sheets with clothes pins
Out under the blazing blue sky.

My bonnet's just for playing
Pretending to be a pioneer
Working hard in my house on the prairie
Like she did in yesteryear.

Thursday, August 22, 2013


"The present contains nothing more than the past."
Henri Bergson

Even the lowliest vegetable plants
Bear the most wonderful blooms
White as Easter lilies,
Soft as egret's plumes.

Petals perfectly symmetrical,
Masterfully designed
Bustled about by bumblebees
Considering such a find.

Swaying on leafless green straw stems
Stately as elegant roses 
Snowballs of flowers—onions 
Scented as sweetly as posies.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

For You

"In search of my mother's garden, I found my own."
Alice Walker

I picked it from your garden
For you, Mama!
It's twirly as a ballerina skirt;
It's pink—my bestest color.
I sniffed it with my nose;
It smelled beeuww-ti-ful
Like you, Mama. 

Tuesday, August 20, 2013


"Do not handle brightness lightly;
It is the deepest darkness of our candle flicker."

Richard Montfort Cary

Grasses woven by nimble fingers,
Dried into a basket that can
Carry apples from the orchard,
Tomatoes, cucumbers from the garden
A picnic lunch to the sandy beach,
Pecans gathered from the big tree 
At the foot of the hill
Pinecones from the woods,
Pears in September.
Sturdy handles—easy, soft to grip, 
Balanced, breathable wicker
Washed with rain,
Dried by wind and sun
Full of the smell of fruit,
The smell of summer,
The scent of flowers
Carried in dried grasses
Woven by nimble fingers.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Earth Laughs

Earth laughs in flowers.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

The zinnia is surely the happiest flower
Dancing with abandon in an afternoon shower
Dressed in bright colors that startle and surprise
Wearing a crown of yellow.

He laughs at the weather: whatever—no matter
Sways to the heat waves; his petals like pennants flutter
Robust and hearty, he sings through the dog days
Impressive, the dapper young fellow.

His stems and leaves grow in glorious disarray
Joyous to be alive, lighthearted come what may;
When the leaves brown with shorter days
Only then his bold colors mellow.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Crape Myrtle

Oklahoma summers linger,
Hot and weary, but pieces are
Painted with red, white, purple, and pink.
Flowers fluttering in the morning breezes,
Nodding sleepy still in the afternoon heat
Notice how how they rest in sweetness
Sweet scented as roses. Stop! 
Smell the crape myrtle;
Smell the soft ruffled 
Color of summer!

Oklahoma summers dry
Grass to hay, people to weariness.
Painted with red, white, purple, and pink 
Growing in back alleyways, beside old houses
Outside my bedroom window, there they thrive
Ornamenting businesses; shading parking lots;
They're everywhere. Listen!
Hear them singing to the thrum of cicadas.
Hear the sweetest musical
Color of summer!

Saturday, August 17, 2013


Nature is the art of God.
Thomas Browne

Love note—direct mail
From heaven
Scented with summer night air,
Loaded with sunshine,
Moonlight and dewdrops,
Speaking to us when we spare
A minute to stop
To notice 
God has a message to share 
Rose, you're a letter
From heaven 
Sending us God's love and care.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Zip Past

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Along the white-striped highway
Cars and trucks 
Zip past,
East and west
Zip past,
While just there beside,
Blazing Stars, 
Like Fourth-of-July sparklers,
Fizzling and sizzling
With purple pizazz,
Shoot up 
From the ditch grasses.
In plain view
Butterflies by the thousands 
Sip the sweet grape soda nectar
Cars zip past, 
Zip past,
Zip past,
And I like to think
Zip past
Zip past 
No one sees
 No one—zip past
But me.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Barbed Wire

There is not a sprig of grass that shoots 
uninteresting to me.
Thomas jefferson

Framed by barbed wire
August is picture perfect with
Green grass beginning to brown
Along the pasture fence,
  Set with lemony wildflowers,
Alive with wind and heat,
Inhabited by leggy grasshoppers,
Watched over by yellow-throated
Meadowlarks singing 
From fence post perches,
 Inspected daily by gossamer-winged
Dragonfly drones.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Rainy Afternoon

Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven...? 
Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, 
that an abundance of water may cover you?
Job 38:34, 37 and 38

The sun slinks behind 
Thin grey clouds
Afternoon sky as hot as an
Oven waiting for loaves of bread
Cools with a sigh of relief
 Cools at the shower of heaven's
Bottled water poured out
From the frosty upper 
Reaches of the sky
God watering His garden
Blessing His earth with rain.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013


God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, 
but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars.
Martin Luther

Take a bow, Rose.
As you leave the stage
Hear my applause?
May it be boisterous enough to
Please you,
Call you back
Center stage for another
Spectacular bloom and dance
Another thrilling solo.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Outside my window

 And the earth brought forth... And God saw that it was good 
and the evening and the morning were the third day. 
Genesis 1:12–13

In the cool of the morning,
You open to drink dew drops
For breakfast tea,
To bask in the rising sun.
From my window I see you,
Bright and boasting
God's artistic talents, 
His creative skill, 
For here you bloom,
Some million dawns later, 
As you bloomed that 
Third morning in Eden. 

Sunday, August 11, 2013


Follow me, Little Sister
Let's go! Westward ho!
Let's find a place to play 
Where we can stay all day
In the woods, in the pasture
Wherever we go, hi-ho, hi-ho
Hurry up; come faster.
Explorin'— outdoorin' 
Follow me, now;
Follow me; Let's go!

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Rose of Sharon

I am a rose in the Plain of Sharon,
 the lily of the valleys. 
Ca. 2:1

White cup with scalloped rim
With a sip of hibiscus tea
Left in your bowl—sweet honey
Bee lure, tonight you will curl
Your skirts around you,
Drop to the dewy grass
So another of your siblings
Sleeping on your budded branch
Has room to unfurl 
In glory at the sunrise. 

Friday, August 9, 2013


"Of the five senses through which we experience life, 
scent unquestionably has the most power  to evoke memory." Hallmark 

The garden, I smell it
That musky smell of fruit,
Like perfume in a bottle. 
The leaves vining along the fence
Seem to have more 
Scent than the
Fast growing green melon
Still, I can smell it ripe.
I picture the bumpy rind
And orange insides
See them split, seeds 
Spooned out, sliced 
Into bite-sized pieces
At Grandma June's hand
Taste it sweet and summer sunny 
With my lunch—again at supper 
Again at breakfast with biscuits, 
Bacon, eggs, and Mayhaw jelly
I remember, more than smell,
Another day—long past
And crave it.

Thursday, August 8, 2013


Happy bright faced girls
Ready for first day of school.
Before you lies mystery, raw 
Adventure of learning. Soon
You will be gobbling up books 
Full of words—traveling the world
Through history and geography,
Soon you will be able to add
Subtract, and you'll figure the days
To Christmas break and summer's
Happy return!

Wednesday, August 7, 2013


Your leaf disguise only 
Works for the deafest birds;
You give yourself away 
With your interminable rasping 
Whistle. When summer is over
I will not miss your song
From the crape myrtle
Outside my bedroom window.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013


Like ballerinas 
Beginners all tuffed in 
Sweet sugary-colored 
Tutus ready for a first 
Day of practice 
For an upcoming recital
Ready for mom's camera flash,
Stage lights and applause.
What fun!

Monday, August 5, 2013

Painted bunting

Like a bright bit of kite
Tangled in a tree's branches
Stop Mr. Bunting
Let me see your true colors:
Blue as the sky on a summer day
Red as a candied apple
Green as the leaves on the sycamore tree
Yellow as lemon pie
Sing and flit in the treetops
I will not give your hiding place away.
Come and eat at my feeder.

Sunday, August 4, 2013


"I bomme, as the bombyll bee dothe" John Palsgrave

Bombyll bee
Worker, to your duty
Spread life
Spread sunshine
Carry the pollen
Flower to flower
Bloom to bloom

Saturday, August 3, 2013


Orange that holds the sun
Pink like sticky candy 
Zinnias flee summer inside
To my windowsill
To drink from a canning jar
To cool from the 
Heated nights where
Moths visit their crowned heads.

Friday, August 2, 2013


In the morning a lily
Opens to the light
Curving pink petals
Arms overhead
Like a ballerina
Spinning on tiptoe
To music 
Greeting the day.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Apricot Rose

Apricots ripe from the orchard
I can smell them still and feel
Fuzzy nap, the color of peaches
Salmon. We wash them and dry. 
"Oh, gentle now", cut them in two
Pry out the pit with its almondy seed
Heat them in syrup and spoon into hot 
Glass jars for the canner to boil and seal
Mama lifts them from the bubbling water. 
They sit on a red-stripped kitchen towel
To cool. As I go on up to bed,
I stop to look at the stacked circles,
Touch the lids to check each seal—go
Dream to the spicy sweet summer smell.
Apricots ripe from the orchard;
I can smell them still.