Just A Summer Storm

It’s just another forgettable Summer storm;
Let’s stay inside where it’s safe and warm;
We’ll have another coffee and sit a spell;
Our Angels are about to keep us safe from harm.
OH! The old tree fell in the backyard!
While the rain pelts down so very hard;
Windows are all closed, it’s just as well—
Happy to be high and dry is this simple bard.
MY! How the lightning FLASHES and CRASHES so!
Outside, right about now, is where I’d rather not go;
But things are getting better, you can sure tell—
Those high winds seem to be blowing a bit more slow.
It is just another Summer storm that’s just passing on thru—
See ya tomorrow when again it’s sunny and our skies returned blue.

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His Own Way

Begging your pardon
I’ve not a blessed thing to say
Could you look into these eyes—
I watched my Papa die today

He went pretty easy
He went how he wanted
No extra measures called for
No one’s gonna be haunted

Asking your blessing
But what can I do for you?
You share your smile with the angels
Can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?

Papa died clean
Papa died in his own bed
Hospice got their dnr
But Papa went his own way instead

Families walk over the worst when at their best
Your heroic work is done, son, now take you rest

Key Number 63/Stars and Bars

The grounds man walked up to the gate
And pulled out his Yale key numbered 63:
This day had been long in coming;
The end of a hard era of taut history.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do you seek Heaven or Hell?

The gate swung open and let in the man
Who reached up for the halyard,
And down furled came the Stars and Bars—
A breeze ripening out of the Southward.

94 thousand died under that proud banner
For their State, their God and sweet country fair—
But fairly beaten, fairly lost
With blasted angels, a long gray line climbed that tall stair.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do they seek Heaven or Hell?

The legislature cast their ballots
On the sure fait accompli
As would’ve been that final warrant
Signed by Abe Lincoln or by Marse Lee

The grounds man folded the crimson rag
Headed for a place of Honoured History;
Now wrongly tainted by hate and sorrow,
The cure a socio-psychological mystery.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do we teach Heaven or Hell?

Ok, So It’s Cancer

ok, so its cancer;
God says it’s time to go—
YES, buy that new car
and just go with the flow.
I don’t feel all that sick
just tired now and then;
let’s check out that new horrid movie,
you just tell me where and when.
where would you be
if you died last year?
shake off that rust, babe,
time to gettit in gear.
an oma in Pamploma
and I still earned that diploma.
ostomy ectomy
but you won’t ever get the very best of me.
ok, so its cancer;
God’s hint it’s time to go—
you’ll be forever loved:
one of the better angels we ever got to know.