CUPID-SANTA: TAG TEAM?

CUPID-SANTA: TAG TEAM?

By Roger Davis

When events are held in a commercial way
They are, for most retailers, a big pay day
Much like the special day to recognize mothers
Valentine and Christmas show love for others

Arrows in loving flight
Or a sleigh, flying in the night
Gifts to show love for the most part
Purchased and placed in a shopping cart

No competition between the mythology of Venus' son
With our faith in God's Only One
"Be My...,"  "On the cross I did die."
These dates are for tears of joy to cry

To be a poem of humor was the intention
But there was spiritual intervention
It could not separate Santa and Cupid
It boiled down, for me, being stupid

File this as a holiday humbug
Or for some, Amen, shake a rug
I’m going to cut it short
Please, no long retort

JOINT PAIN

JOINT PAIN

By Roger A. Davis

Yes, Nurse, I'm talking to you
My problem isn't the flu
Growing pains in my joints
Assessments: 0-10 points

Ankles and knees
More medicine, please
When standing, there’s a grinding sound
It lessens when I sit down

Weather arthritis - no way
Sunny or cloudy, it does stay
Too much weight seals my fate
For others, their own factors dictate

Joint pain; we're all hurting
Harmony, but no flirting
Subjects for sympathy
Ankle and/or knee

Replacement is a treatment fact
If too heavy, they will not act
Complaints we share
Fellowship of the suffering pair

It is said, there is a Brother
More loving than any other
His Word supports our joints and marrow
It did yesterday and today, and will tomorrow

SOFT SNOW, PRETTY SNOW

SOFT SNOW, PRETTY SNOW

By Roger A. Davis


Four inches of snow gently came down
Polls said, half smile; others, a frown
Forecast: “Uh-oh,
It's going to blow!”

Schools to close
Children in delightful throes
Parents, another theme
Daycare is not open; scream

Mom, Dad, ''Find my warm stuff''
Who needs gloves?  I'm tough
Mittens, warm socks and a hat
Mom, my sled, where's it at?

Children, go to the restroom right now
Mom, relax, don't have a cow
Father, remember it’s a snow day
No homework; let them play

Pretty snow will soon be packed
Followed by a snowball attack
Soft snow no more
Bombs for Scrooge's door

A coming blizzard is the case
Removal services will lose the race
Highway closings, winter storm warning
Power outages and needs of warming

Family from the normal is excused
This free day isn't to be abused
No takeout, but a homemade meal
Plus candles, to give it a festive feel

Soft snow, pretty snow is now deep
Everyone is snuggled down to sleep
Neighborhood snowmen will soon weep
Yet the white memories we will keep

CHRIST CHRISTMAS

CHRIST CHRISTMAS

By Roger Davis


Noel, new birth
That which was in heaven, now on earth
Angels harkened, the early news
Few saw the start, yet Mary knew

Her womb, His cradle
The Bethlehem trip was prenatal
The stable, an Old Testament prophesy
The Magi came from the East to see

Jesus suckling at Mary's breast
The livestock in holy rest
Shepherds summoned, arrive
While an evil king contrived

This is our Gift, hung on a cross of a tree
For us to go back to heaven, sin free
The Word became flesh and bone
Believing, and then we need not be alone

This earth is His grace wrapped
Though at times it seems a trap
Why?  Because temporarily we reside
By knowing all have died

Christ Christmas is a silent and holy night
Rejoice, for even the downtrodden will see His light
Open your gifts and teach the young
About the Baby, by the songs sung

AVA'S EARTH ANGEL

AVA'S EARTH ANGEL

By Roger A. Davis


Ava came visiting during our holiday times.
Allowing this Earth Angel to entwine with a nursery rhyme. 
Thanksgiving and Christmas - novel experiences for Ava's folks.
Niu and Diyi not eating turkey: One of Roger's jokes.

Earth Angel, sort of a grandpa creature.
He passes down oral traditions as a teacher.
An orientation for his adoptive family to the Seasons.
Pilgrims, Native Americans, Thanksgiving reasons.

Traditions of faith, Ava can be sublime.
Exactly now, for this is Christmastime.
The celebration of Jesus and His birth.
A gift from God declaring His love and our worth.

Hanging from The Christmas Angel tree,
Many other tales of Holiday glee.
Including Santa, reindeers and North Pole elves,
Stocking stuffers and gifts, fill stores’ shelves.

Music is a gift, baby Ava; His children songs.
Nursery lullabies sung on earth and by heaven's throng.
Be it Jingle Bells or Silent Night.
You, Ava, will always be under the Bethlehem light.

HAND MIRROR

HAND MIRROR

By Roger A. Davis


Avoid reflecting glass
Exposes my past
My heart can be young
Yet, crow's-feet tell what I've done

Mirrored image, my body in pain
Herniated disc, spine sprain
Eyes: window of the soul
Laugh: echo of a full bowl

At rest in a dimmed room
My hand is a spinning loom
Wrinkles, a hand mirror of skin
Show the age old predicament I'm in

Each day is a surprise
I see my hands with new eyes
Whose hands can these be?
My grandmother's, not me

Like the heavens; many stars
Mine; story telling scars
From filleting fish
To the removal of a cyst

Life lines on palms have expired
No more, the new love I've desired
Regrets seem to have sway
Yet I have hands that can still pray!

FACEBOOK FEATURES

FACEBOOK FEATURES
                                                      
By Roger A. Davis


What kind a book, this maybe?
Picture pamphlet for us to see.
Personal photos of our growing uppers.
Plus good places to go eat your suppers.

Political ticklers and religious talk,
Product ads, posters, and kids drawing with chalk.
Big boy toys and family features,
Not to forget our pets and other creatures.

Facebook is not a personal diary: Okay.
And you can't erase what you display.
Ask yourself, ''What would grandma do?"
In the present, we're all watching you.

Yes, it is a cooperative album, to sit and look,
And share pictures that you took.
Personal comments you can make.
Overall, a sense of community is my take.

THE FIRST OF THIRST

THE FIRST OF THIRST

By Roger A. Davis

     
In the month of Thirst, it begins,
Inhabitants play Words With Friends

All Twenty days, a Scrabble Craze.
Twenty-Two/Five, a dictionary haze.

Sleep to the word community,
Seems like Mutiny.

Then from the deep,
Comes Novel Peep.

Anagrams of the Wheel
He has squashed with His Heel.

Now the Piper has arrived for WWF Choosers.
Oh what Joy, for those tile Losers.

A Book is the Way, declares Novel.
Then he peeped, "Never again that Puzzle Grovel.”

WELCOME BACK, ROGER

WELCOME BACK, ROGER

Roger A. Davis


Doc Roger, I assume!
Many thought you were Doom

For many months, surreal Tomb
Recovered now, I presume

Webpage sabbatical, yes
Life choices a mess

Yet poems produce, I'll confess
Individual, full of encouragement and jest

So welcome back, Roger Reader
Again a webpage prose Feeder

His time, a Hallmark Greeter
Healing daily, God's Grace, filling the Meter

REMEMBERING THE SOLDIERS

REMEMBERING THE SOLDIERS

By Roger A. Davis


Where haven't our soldiers given up their lives?
Foreign and domestic lands, heard their battle cries.
Front lines or rearguard,
Waiting for their return; It was hard.

November 11th, 1918, World War I,
Historically, it was done.
“In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row.” (1)

Doughboys, GIs, and today's Armed Forces,
Make obedience to defend us, their choices.
Today, it is our honor to remember the fallen.
With prayers and tears in thankful solemn.

For the living troops, we should,
Express thanks and say, “All is good.”
For our Nation, they are the vanguards of peace.
24/7, their diligence, does not cease.

The heroes are laid down to sleep.
For, The One Nation Under God, their souls He keeps.
This day and those that follow,
Be victorious, so their sacrifices are not hollow.

(1) Lt. Colonel John McCrae: an excerpt from poem,

"In Flanders Fields."

ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG

ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG

Roger A. Davis


Red, White and Blue,
I'm waving at you.

Old Glory saying, “Armed Forces, well done.”
And cladded coffins, “An honorable burial you've won.”

Hand across chest, civilians do.
The uniformed at attention, give their due.

Upon your flag poles, here I fly.
The Anthem sung, with a background of the sky.

For each state, a star I display.
Citizens of the U. S. A., unfurl me on this, Flag Day.

Comment for all under my Domain,
“Hold true to the Allegiance that you proclaim.”

GOOGLE GALORE

GOOGLE GALORE

By Roger A. Davis

Everyday I trip to Knowledge Park
Voice command – “Find: b-a-r-k”
YouTube, a visual arcade
Wow, music from me and Peggy's decade

At the top, Matterhorn; panoramic view
Alps deadliest peak, for beginners - taboo
Key word: jump; Whymper, the first to scale
Illustrator, also frolicking hill and dale

This is how it is done
One thought, let it run
Type or speak
I've become a Google geek

Before going back to Homepage
We have to visit the Wikipedia sage
The Who’s of Who and Whom and What
The Oz of Adventure Land? Toto mutt?

Behind the Veil, contributions of bios and ad links
Presented in blinks of eyes, vendors of trivia drinks
Want to work on your car. Instructing; PC pad isn't far
Fix the sink or how to the roof; tar

Now, for some, this is old hat
Games are where they’re at
At a young age, I read the alphabet books
Now I've discovered the planet: Hooks

From it's gravity I can't flee
Everyday, the bait is more tasty
I cast my role as the Thinker
I'm a Hookian: A Big Bang Stinker

THE JOLLY RANCHERS

THE JOLLY RANCHERS

Roger A. Davis

La Hacienda in K.U. town
Is next to the bus stop for Greyhound
A wainscot brick yellow garaged duplex
To the west, the kids’ nightclub “The Ranch” is next

A bus stop is across the street in Pick-N-Pay convenience store’s parking lot
Where Conoco fuel is bought
They also offer 25¢ air
It closes at 11:00 p.m.; but their lights leave a big glare

Dillons is two plus blocks to the west
There goes James - no matter the weather, it is for him no big test
City busses run on 6th Street, too
All over Lawrence, they haul the crimson and blue

Our address is 2537 Bremer Drive
(Lawrence, KS 66049)
Where, once again, we have survived
Write us, friends old and new
We’ve got plenty of time to answer you

PLAYING CATCH

PLAYING CATCH

Roger A. Davis

The flight of a ball
Says it all
When the receiver is your son
Whether the ball is caught or not, it is pure fun

GOD WENT COUNTRY ON THE CROSS

GOD WENT COUNTRY ON THE CROSS

Roger A. Davis

The combination of the blues and all the love of us’ems hues
Can Country become distinct?
Nah, it’s Eden’s missing link
Eden is Prairie Prose
Where The Word became flesh and overcame all His foes
Prose, rhythm and song
Hey! Let us all get along
For The Maker has come back and He is on His throne
The Grand Ole Opry is His tone!
You name them, they’re all there
Minnie Pearl to Fred Astaire
Why is it Country?
All creatures great and small
He made them all
Yet, it’s a baby in a manger so meek and mild
And Our Father creator started this world as a child
Yes, as The Creator
There was a rectal traitor
Gunfights at the O.K. Corral, wars and rumors, too
Fallen nature through and through
So, Eden’s sod
Was no longer home for God
Heaven bound until the Son of Man brought back the Bride on a groom’s quest
For us and the rest
The Father! is here now and the whole world has gone Country
Saving the best for last?
Heck no!
It’s ham and beans; molasses, too
Peach cobbler, rye bread, sand plum jelly – eat until your face is blue
“Come on, partners, gather round”
For an old-fashioned hoedown

SENIOR NIGHT

SENIOR NIGHT

Roger A. Davis

Reed, Little, Morningstar
KU fans come from afar
Like Bob, Carol, Ted and Alice
To the Phog palace

Some worshipped via TV; for me, it was 104.9
Bob Davis, describing the divine
Journal’s newspaper coverage of the event
Helps us appreciate the sacred covenant

The boys standing with families among the flowers thrown
Speeches coming; laud, laughs and tears will set the tone
For many of us, it’s the best game of the year
Now, God, please … at Final Fours may we appear

FORGETTING THE BLESSING

FORGETTING THE BLESSING

Roger A. Davis

Forgetting the blessing, we ain’t talking before a meal
A savory sigh or burp seals the deal
We’re talking the privilege to serve
Being humbled enough to know it is God’s power in you
It’s your only reserve

You are a unique instrument wonderfully made
Forgetting the blessing is this feeling
“I have so much to do before I can rest
You know I’ve got to be my better best”

Grace says He made this day with discordant notes or a gentle symphony
And all you’ve got to do is be me

HOMETOWN HUMOR

HOMETOWN HUMOR

Roger A. Davis

Sunday funnies spread on Mom and Dad’s bed
Later, Papa Grace throwing dinner rolls at your head
Pass the butter dish with a twist
Oops! Buttered hand; pound the other fist

A trilogy of youth memory treasures
The simple hometown life pleasures
To share this in a comforting way
Is what I live for every day