TRAINING WHEELS

TRAINING WHEELS

Roger A. Davis

He started out with a small tricycle
Zooming up and down the hall
Progressed to a bigger version
Still no serious crash or fall

A homemade motorized three-wheeler, next in line
Turned it over on its side the first time
Cried a little, but he was fine
Then his driving skill produced nary a spill

His fifth birthday came and went
Gifts of money saved, a bicycle was his intent
Then spring came, we were off to the store
He found a BMX bike on the sales floor

All his rides before had wheels times three
Now it only had two, no training wheels, you see
To learn this new skill, only him and me
Yikes, overweight, bad back and bum knee

This teaching lesson should be at the top
First, how to brake and stop
But somehow I missed doing that
Look out! A driveway made of asphalt and chat

So we would start on the lawn
I, being the running kickstand pawn
My son made me promise I would not let go
This I was able to keep for three in a row

On the fourth attempt, his speed increased
And, totally exhausted, my help deceased
I fell down, breathing hard, his pedaling did not stop
But it was not long and Dad was not there to prop

He fell, too, in the freshly mown grass
I slowly got up and went to his aid
But he was up and ready for another pass
I apologized for the broken promise made

In one day he learned how to ride
His mom and I took that feat in pride
Yet, to this day, we laugh when we watch on film
Me, trying to run and stay by his side

small talk

small talk
dedicated to kathleen

roger a. davis

lovely weather we’re having
looks like it could rain
did i tell you about my latest pain?

gas prices, oh my, 2.95
dread my next electric bill
did you read about the scandal on capitol hill?

my daughter just had a baby girl
a wee lass called erin
on our soap, did bill leave karen?

topics open for discussion
tv, weather, health, gossip and family news
on survivor, who did they choose?

let us go out for lunch today
give me a cheeseburger and fries, too
did they raise prices on the menu?

they say chitchat is harder for men
ladies seem to be totally at ease
we were taught, "thank you and please"

now in our small talk
try to remember to say
"you all have a good day"

LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE

LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE

Roger A. Davis


Open mouth, out it came so fast
Then you tell another fib
To cover your a.., a.., past
Why did we falsely adlib?

Is it okay to tell a lie
To avoid hurting a loved one?
In that mind frame, we try to justify
Then wishing the deed could be undone

Our consciousness goes on fire alert
Sigh, sigh, oh my! The guilt does hurt
We confess the tangled web is a mess
Why do we weave and deceive, no less?

The Bible says our tongue is an unruly member
Falsehoods and slander keep the rebel limber
So how do we keep a tight ship on the sleuth?
By filling our mind and heart with God’s truth

The chopped down cherry tree
The Father of our Country confessed it was he
Rather than telling a lie
Please God, help us with your words to reply

Speaking the truth in love is our desire
Avoiding a nose as long as a telephone wire
And again being called, “Liar, Liar”
By exercising honesty, the name will retire

THE GREAT WALL OF GRAFFITI

THE GREAT WALL OF GRAFFITI
Dedicated to Gajin Fujita

Roger A. Davis


It was made to keep out the boredom raider
Psychedelic swirls and boxcar murals
Underpass, overpass, crews do cater
Nothing to undrape, the morning light unfurls

From spray can man to caveman
Scenes and symbols telling stories
Very old to present it does span
The art of graffiti it employs

Inner city Rembrandts versus childish jokes
Artistic endeavors became the lever
For some to apply professional strokes
Yet their neighborhood ties, it would not sever

A canvas and cast, vast and varied in array
Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic and African American
Applying their talents to adorn and spray
Water tower, tank car, dumpster and trash can

Ancient Egypt had its hieroglyphics displayed
Tibetan monks flew prayer flags, the wind swayed
Avenues to express culture and spiritual ways
By multicolored stained glass windows and paint sprays

Paul Gauguin painted beauty in Tahiti
French post impressionist upon the Polynesian Sea
Gajin Fujita, artist of the Japanese/Barrio graffiti
His originality seen in L.A., Santa Fe and Kansas City

More anonymous works than known appear
Across our continent do stretch
From "WASH ME" to "KILROY WAS HERE"
So enjoy the Great Wall or at least an Etch-A-Sketch

I'LL START ON MONDAY

I’LL START ON MONDAY
Dedicated to Lisa G.

Roger A. Davis

The Declaration of Procrastination
We the people of nothing in moderation
Do solemnly state, Monday we will start
To regulate our intake
Of all that is good for the heart

Our historical record of success
Is very dismal, we confess
But, this time will be the charm
It’s got to be; we are about to buy the farm

Diets, exercise and no smoking plans
We put off all last week
Monday is here and it demands
That we don't be weak

Monday came and passed, the good intentions
Became the need for extensions
Do we need another six days
In our unhealthy maze?

I, for one, don't want to start
With another lame excuse
To harm my body with abuse
So it’s time for us do our part

Let us not wait for next Monday
Now is the right time of day
“Please, God, help us,” we pray
In our determination not to stray

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE

‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE

Roger A. Davis

‘Twas a dark and stormy night
Wrapped up in my covers so tight
Shutters stutter by howling wind
Goosebumps up and down spine descend
Thunder and lighting crashed in the moor
Illuminating my bare wooden floor
And rattled the solid oak door
Hailstones and torrent rain
Thatched roof under terrible strain
Leaking in my chamber pot
And a few drops hitting my cot
I should get up and move
But where would it improve?
I close my eyes and snuggle down
Cover ears to drown out sound
I awaken to a new day
No overcast, hurray
‘Twas the night before
But, thank God, not any more!

A DAY AT THE COUNTY FAIR

A DAY AT THE COUNTY FAIR

Roger A. Davis

I went to the county fair
Exhibits, 4-H and FFA livestock were there
My pig won first blue, and angus steer, reserve champ
Hoping the judges like mom's jellies and preserves
All of us in the family think her baking deserves
A grand champ approval stamp

Tonight, the demolition derby under the lights
What a delight, car fights
Sitting in the grandstands eating hamburgers
Spilling mustard, while sipping cokes
Watching bumper and fender benders
Anticipating tomorrow's dance and rodeo with cowbelles and cowpokes

The evening almost done, back to fair barn stalls
To check animals, will change straw bedding at dawn
Watered my white ribbon lamb, oh my, what a yawn
I better get to bed before the rooster calls
Because the sun will birth a new day
When we town and country kids will feed many bales of hay

EDITOR AND CHIEF

EDITOR AND CHIEF

Roger A. Davis

How do you spell friend?
E-D-I-T-O-R and/or MARGE
Absolutely my definite opinion
That is why I wrote it so large

Taking this poet’s words in disarray
Casting spell check into the fray
Applying grammar to his failed English test
Black ink magic woman at her best

Chief of encouragement, too
Being there when but only a few
Listened and cared to what I said
Supporting the writings to be read

This poem is for you, Mrs. Crabtree
Spanky putting this apple on your desk
Knowing that you make it shine for free
Graciously helping this poetic pesk

THE LIFE I LIVE NOW

THE LIFE I LIVE NOW

Roger A. Davis


Life is everything
It is limited to experience
Live is time spent
Now is time experienced in present

Clay jars hold this life of surpassing power
We carry the death of Jesus and His life
Why is this so?
So that now death can reveal life

Grace that keeps us alive, benefits you
Outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are renewed
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, for it is temporary
What is unseen is eternal
2 Corinthians 4:7-18 (paraphrase)

TREASURE CHEST OF CLAY
OPEN IT UP TODAY
ACCEPT THE DEATH OF OLD
SPEND THIS, HIS LIFE OF GOLD

GOLDEN OLDIES

GOLDEN OLDIES

Roger A. Davis
(aka Rock ‘n Roll Raddaddy Ole)

Music of the 50s, 60s and 70s
Motown, Georgie Girl, Downtown
Rock ‘n roll and dry levies
Whiskey and rye, Janis' groovy sound

British invasion by a yellow submarine
Beatles causing girls to cry and scream
Beach Boys hot rod roar, pedal to the floor
Mama Cass, BJ, Stevie, Elvis and so many more

Woodstock, mecca for our generation
Soul Train, American Bandstand, rate that dance
Chubby's twist, monster mash, do the locomotion
Teen Town, prom, sock hop, places to prance

Memories fueled by our golden oldies station
45s, 33s, 8-tracks or new released CDs
We are every day people, American women
We are family and Wichita linesmen

Be proud, because never again and never before
Will it be surpassed in music folklore
So crank it up and get into the beat
Let’s all go dancing in the street

CHILD'S PLAY

CHILD’S PLAY

Roger A. Davis


Read me a story?
Let us pretend
Open up your heart
Let the child come in

Be done with pretension
Your heart needs its thumb
Sing, rock and play
Do not become numb

The day is nearing
Do you know where your children are today?
Can you hear them ask?
“Please, can we come in to play?”

Open up your door
To God’s children at play
Take them into your lap
Enter the rest with them, Today

ROCKET'S RED GLARE

ROCKETS’ RED GLARE

Roger A. Davis


Roman candles spouting showers of spark
And bottle rockets’ red glare arc
Fireworks, corn on the cob and apple pie
As we celebrated the 4th of July

Backyard barbecues, fireworks in the park
Services for our military heroes
Homemade ice cream and eating it at dark
These are our memories of holiday prose

Celebrating our Nation’s freedom and birth
Family and neighborhood parties and mirth
Old Glory hung with pride and joy
As we remember our Founding Fathers’ story

Firecrackers, sparklers and black snakes
Children setting off the sidewalk array
Parents and grandparents hoping no mistakes
All waiting, anticipating, tonight’s display

When our celebrations are almost at an end
And the potluck fried chicken meals are done
Never forget the sacrifice of those who defend
The rockets’ red glare, freedom, they won

MAMA GRACE

TO MAMA GRACE
FOR HER 90TH BIRTHDAY

WE DEDICATE THESE POEMS TO YOU ON THIS SPECIAL DAY IN HONOR OF YOUR LIFE THESE PAST NINETY YEARS. WE CHOSE TO EXPRESS OUR LIFE IN POETY. POETRY EXPRESSES THE GRACE OF LIFE IN HARMONY OF WORDS, AS YOUR WORDS AND ACTIONS HAVE GRACED OUR LIVES.

THESE FOUR POEMS HIGHLIGHT WHAT YOU MEAN TO US:

“NINE SISTERS” – Tells of your beginning and your love of family and genealogy.
“FARMER’S WIFE” – Tells of your sacrifice, dedication and service.
“A GRANDCHILD’S MEMORIES” – Tells of your love that will always be part of us.
“MAMA GRACE IS HER NAME” – Tells of the uniqueness of who you are. You are so special, Mama Grace, for you have made us to see ourselves as being special too. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

NINE SISTERS

Roger Davis

Fate Or Fortune, You Surmise.
In The Cards Or Divine Surprise?
Nine Sisters And No Boy.
Yet Lacking No Joy.

Hold Em Up And Hand Me Down
Baby Sitters Enough To Go Around
Milking Cows, Gathering Eggs
Willing Arms And Swishing Legs.

Emptying The Nest
Mother At Rest.
Braided, Bobbed Or Curls,
Mr. Layman And His Girls.

On Then Two, On They Flew,
Helping Another Say “I Do”.
Aunts, Uncles, Kids And Kin,
Getting Together Now And Then.

Many Years Have Passed,
Family Memories That Last.
Treasured And Written History,
Nine Sisters And Their Family Tree.

FARMER’S WIFE

Roger Davis

Paring knife, crust, and ripest fruits,
Broom, tea towel, dust mop, dirty boots.
These are a few of her labors and chore,
“But hey mister, there are plenty more.”

Crops, weather, and livestock bids,
Being there for husband and kids.
Serving her clubs and congregation,
Kin “stayin over” on their vacation.

Wash & hang clothes to dry,
Two chickens to kill and fry.
Mending and sewing the family duds,
Peel, boil, and mash a peck of spuds.

A long grocery list and holidays a comin,
Presents to be makin and carols to be hummin.
Sunday service, her God is a reality.
Labors of love with warm hospitality.


A GRANDCHILD’S MEMORIES

Roger Davis

A Haven Of Rest And Care,
A Throne And High Chair,
A Soft Bed For A Nap,
It’s My Grandma’s Lap.

A Treat & Dinner Bell,
A Story Book To Tell,
A Poem Or Song Of Choice,
It’s My Grandma’s Voice.

A Rabbit In A Shadow Show,
A Hankie That Stops The Flow,
A Grip As Strong As A Man’s,
It’s My Grandma’s Hands.

A Gentle Rebuke Of Love,
A “Get With It” Shove,
A Look Of Wonder And Surprise,
It’s My Grandma’s Eyes.

A Healing Touch For Sorrow,
A Sign Of Hope For Tomorrow,
A Greeting For Me And Sis,
It’s My Grandma’s Kiss.

A Babysitting For Our Folks,
A Laughing At Childish Jokes,
A Doing More Than Her Part,
It’s My Grandma’s Heart.

A Blessing From Above,
A Message Of His Love,
A Soul Without Strife,
It’s My Grandma’s Life.


MAMA GRACE IS HER NAME

Roger Davis

Are names randomly had,
Or given of fashion & fad?
Legacies passed down,
Historical figures of renown.

Indians apply prose,
Running bear, wild rose,
Or directed from above,
Adam, John, Jesus is love.

Mama Grace is her name.
A handle of local fame.
Sister, teacher, mother and friend,
Grace abounds in this blend.

Four score and ten years ago,
Grace appeared in the show.
Encore! Encore! For our dame.
Mama Grace is her name.

MOLLY POLLY WOLLY DOODLE ALL THE DAY

MOLLY POLLY WOLLY DOODLE ALL THE DAY

Roger A. Davis

My Mamma Grace sang me this song
And all of us kids sang along

Now we have a spunky gal
She came as a seven week pup
And became my little pal
A year now, all grown up

Peggy named her Molly
A bulldog that gnawed and bit
We wonder of our folly
But she mellowed to a perfect fit

Still chews and gnaws, just not on us
From glass Coke bottles to hedge logs
Molly also gives the cats a fuss
She is not like most dogs
More like a rocky mountain goat
And she loves Peggy, attacking her throat

All in the Davis Family have hobbies
Molly is no exception
She has a geological collection
Rocks, dirt clods, and branches off trees
Also thrown into the melee, an assortment of wire
She is dedicated to collect and acquire
Treasures on a Molly Polly Wolly Doodle Day
Could hope to add to her front yard display

So, when you visit, double check your belongings
Because Molly will be doing it, too
Hoping to add at least a shoe
To her ever growing list of things

She is our spunky gal of love
A bulldog with a boulder to shove
So, Molly Polly Wolly Doodle All The Day
Please find something valuable for a payday

THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP

THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP

Roger A. Davis


How does it begin?
A favor done, or just a grin
There are a number of kinds
Stormy and fair weather
And soul mates with like minds

When push comes to shove
Seems majority have lukewarm love
Then there are the few
My dear friend, like you
Who go through the fire and pain
Never abandoning, always to remain

My heart cries out in joy and sorrow
For those who know not your love
And I rejoice forever to Him above
That you will always be in my tomorrow

Power of friendship sustains, even when apart
Because we hold a mutually loving heart
If our earthly one should quit, not alas
Heaven is where it began
Glorified to last, it will never pass

Dear friend, I count you as my greatest treasure
Only regret is others don’t know your full measure
Yet, your love bubbles and flows out of me
So you are touching plenty

Just had to tell you again what you mean to me
Because that is the power of friendship
Listening, encouraging, laughing,
And joined at the hip

POET LARIAT

POET LARIAT
Dedicated to Baxter Black

Roger A. Davis


Iambic, is that a pen name?
Sonnet, a feather in Shakespeare's bonnet
“Roses are…” is more my fame
Catchy phrase with a loop on it

Words arranged to rhythm and rhyme
Literary formula of finding pi prime
Poetic license evoked for writing under the influence
Of too many words present and past tense

I’m a doodle poet of sorts
Few lines written down on paper
My clowning around should be a caper
Black marker import and exports

Can you stand one more stanza?
Or are you going to read me my Miranda?
Well, we are almost done with this crime
Just maybe, I'll only get parole time

NIEL CHASE EULOGY

EULOGY

Niel Chase
December 1, 1994


We are honored to be asked to share with you and our family today some prose about the life of Niel Chase.

Niel and Esther have, in the past, encouraged us by writing letters of thank you and appreciation when we have shared at family gatherings, including birthdays, reunions, funerals and visits.

This past weekend, Dad shared with me his fond memories of the family gatherings of the sisters and the brothers-in-law. Niel’s sense of humor and zest for life would rise like cream to the top and a good time would be had by all.

This summer, we visited Niel, Esther, Janell and Carlton at their home in Albuquerque. We had a good visit sharing in their memories and current happenings of their lives as well as ours.

It is looking back on that day that we have chosen two areas of Niel’s life that we would like to offer some lines of prose, realizing that we see life as through a mirror, hazily reflecting our Creator’s glory in part (1 Cor. 15:38-49 and 1 Cor. 13:12).

THE HARDWARE STORE

Here he comes, a young man with a heavy load of care.
Hoping with his heart he will find help there.

He enters the wide doors carrying the faulty culprit,
That caused anger, animosity and domestic upset.

He approaches the counter with humility and trepidation,
Thus, once again, acknowledging need for restoration.

He beholds his counselor and mentor of daily life,
Saying, “Hi, John, how’s the wife?”

Where is this story in view?
At church, with pastor and pew?
A doctor’s office, nurse and pills?
No, it’s the hardware store of Esther and Niel’s.

Different times, places and parts,
The same serving and carrying hearts.

John and we alike come to the store,
Expecting parts and a lot more.

Included in the purchase price,
Guaranteed sure-to-work advice.

Humanity and their daily crisis,
Customers complaining, higher prices.

Add the “thank yous" for easing our chore,
The smiles and sighs of plumbing restore.
Plus satisfied employees and more,
It’s Niel’s and Esther’s hardware store.

ONLY CHILD

A child is born to new parents.
They try on “Mom” and “Dad”,
Pin on diapers and pine for sleep not had.

Years pass, baby’s clothes are put father back to stay.
It is an only child, no brother or sister here to play,
Yet, two cats, one horse, and ever present dog of stray.

Six, seven, eight and nine,
Dad becomes a brother and he doesn’t mind.
Mom is left holding the grown-up line.

Parents’ hopes and dreams surround their only teen.
Stress and strained relations,
Then come graduation and congratulations.

Coming home with spouse-to-be,
Mom lets go of apron strings at last.
Dad wonders how the years went so fast.

Dad and Mom watch from afar,
As the heir of their heart,
Experiences life’s middle part.

Now retired, and parents need some care.
There is only me to be,
Father, brother, sister, mother.
For I am an only child, there is no other.

So, God, help me to remember your only child.
It was Jesus, given up for me,
So I will be one of the many “only children” for eternity.

7 DAYS OF THE WEAK

7 DAYS OF THE WEAK

Roger A. Davis


Is getting out of bed hard to do?

Is it Monday morning blue?

Tuesday is a little better

Wednesday, there goes the fetter

Thursday’s child is starting to get wild

It’s weekend Friday eve and gone is work peeve

Saturday we cram a week of fun

Rest on Sunday, with His Son

Makes Monday morning’s rise not a heave

Don’t start you calendar weak

Let every day be a Sunday peak

As we go about our 24/7 week

ANIMAL ACTORS

ANIMAL ACTORS

Roger A. Davis


Animal crackers do not always come in a box
Like Flicka, my friend
And trusty dog, Rin Tin Tin

Who was it that cracked you up?
The kitty, Otis, and Milo, the little pup
Mr. Ed, Cheetah, Alph or Eddie Crane
TV and movie screen, they reign

Trigger, a stallion or mare?
Is Willy still free or Lassie at home?
E.T., we hope you made it, too
And, Babe, we still love you

Who will be our next star to shine?
To make us laugh, cry or pine
It won’t be a gecko, shark or spider
My bet, someone like Hidalgo and his rider

Or an Asta, Flipper or Arnold, who’s to differ
Good-bye Old Yeller, my first love
My new beau is Hooch
The movies’ all time greatest pooch

Now is your turn to remember and pick
Your favorite animal or alien actor flick

SCIENCE AND FAITH

SCIENCE AND FAITH

Roger A. Davis


There are creationist scientists,
Atheists, and agnostic ones, too
All studying the universal; why, where and who
Big bang, orangutan, and then man
God created who in His image?
Is there a heavenly plan?
Yes, faith takes courage

There were dinosaurs and fossilized remains
Then DNA being altered for sheep
Is there a contradiction in our brains?
Whose religion is on the top of the heap?

This poet says, “In the beginning was God”
An explanation of His creation is scientific
Yet, the factor of Original Sin
Makes Jesus, Restorer of Creation in the end

Science tries to test, prove and prod
Yet taking only a partial view of God
Leaving out a Father’s tremendous love
Science often misses forensic proof
Of He who directs all from Above
Because faith, hope and love
A microscope cannot detect that truth

Traces appear, it is in unconditional charity
So, fellow seekers of the meaning of life
Look at forensic clues of Christ’s shed blood, death and resurrection
For this is the science and universal parity
Not for an episode or season but all eternity

HEROES OF THE FAITH

HEROES OF THE FAITH

Roger A. Davis


Daniel in the lions den, Moses and the snaky staff
David and his fighting men, overcome Saul's wrath
Abraham promised heirs and Sarah's barren womb
Mary Magdalene and Mary at the empty tomb

Our spiritual heritage, lives of recorded history
People who believed and acted in His story
By faith, it was, what they were commended for
Hebrew 11 telling us, in part, this amazing lore

Heroes of the faith looking to the promised One
The Messiah, the Savior and Restorer of Israel
Prophecies, genealogy, dreams and angel visitations
The history of God passed through a people

Jesus met the two Marys on their way to Galilee
They were the first of the faith to see the Risen One
Sent to tell the disciples that they too would see
Our Heavenly Father's resurrected Son


Jesus came to Galilee, He sent them out to make disciples
Of all the world by baptizing them in the name of the Trinity
This, the starting of our new testament, journey to eternity
Believing Jesus' life, death, and resurrection, for our perfection

This is the vision of those who want to walk in Faith's hall of fame
You need to believe that God, before creation, knew your name
And your past, present, and future, His forever to command
Our part is, by faith, hope and love, to rest and stand

Knowing this, that He who started us on our spiritual heritage trip
Will never forsake, abandon or allow an eternal slip
Jesus will, in fact, always have our back
Changing us into His likeness from Glory To Glory, on earth
Never to be through

So we see, in part, God's grand plan for His chosen
Now, because He loves us so much, each new day
Let us run the race, casting off all that would hinder
The Author and Finisher of our spiritual life's play

Let us consider others, on their faith journeys
As more important than our own, so we can serve
Our Lord Jesus and His spiritual armies
On our way to victory overall that would unnerve

For this is our royal calling, to be clothed in Jesus' likeness
Singing and worshiping by the power of the Holy Spirit
With all the heroes of the faith, Adam, John and all the rest
Knowing Our Heavenly Father directs by His Holy Writ

CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON

CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON

Roger A. Davis


When I was only four years old
This toddler dropped off at the theater door
Told to go in and find brother and sis
My parents drove off in the cold
I entered that movie house with checkered floor
Not knowing my life was very much amiss

First time in a theater looking in darkened rows
Looking for my sister and or brother
Finding instead terror only God knows
For you see, the Creature from the Black Lagoon
He seemed to really hover
On that big screen during a dark moon

Frightened and confused, I ran
Out into the cold and the dark
Who would have ever thought I would be a movie fan
Still with memories of fear so stark

An impressionable boy scared for many years
Sleeping after many tears
With mostly imagined fears of monsters
Witches and other TV foes

Until another family member takes an adolescent
To the movie, The Birds, and once again
The boy in hell-bound descent
Sought refuge in a bathroom marked ‘Men’
Oh my! They came from everywhere pecking out eyes
Hitchcock, you were my demise

So parents, grandmas, whoever
Never, never, never be so clever
To expose a sensitive child to the big screen
Because it is a true fact, I confess
No one was intentionally mean
I was a basket case, for years a mess
Knowing that the creature would find me

Or birds, sharks or rats, would dine
Now I lay me down to sleep, Lord
Keep me safe from the creatures of the deep
Every night, I sought the Devine

So horror shows I hate, give me martial arts
Or blazing saddle and the farts
But I can’t say it enough
Children are not that tough

HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION

HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION

Roger A. Davis


High school, the High Stool of Education
Get to join the grown-ups at graduation

A time for spoon, fork and knife
Choosing the proper utensils for life
A change in the bibs of care
No, Mom, Dad and Sis won’t always be right there

A time to put on a uniform
Business suit or just jeans in the dorm
Remember, you are still learning to partake
Be careful cutting up your own steak

And, yes, you will be asked to be served at the table
And always remember to seek He who is able
The cup of what you drink will sometimes make you choke
Yet, Jesus is always the antidote

So waddle, walk and waltz
Doodle, dream and dance
Graduate always to romance

KING KONG

KING KONG, DING DONG, AVON CALLING

Roger A. Davis

Zorro, can I buy a Z?
Snoopy’s kite caught in a tree
Jim Henson’s two-headed monster
Oh, how I miss my Sesame Street group
Oh, yes, even F Troop

Hard to go back after they call you ‘Sir”
Supposed to put away childish stuff
Gary Larson, never enough
I will never grow up to be a man
I’m trapped in Never Never Land
With Tinkerbell and Peter Pan

Hope you will forgive me for laughing at jokes
That are not always acceptable to the majority of folks
For you see, I’m a throwback and runt of the litter
Forever trapped in the silver screen and all that glitter

So throw off your cloaks of pretension
And enter into your childhood extension
Then you can laugh, run and hide
Red Rover, Red Rover, send innocence back over

ORIGAMI OF PLASTIC

ORIGAMI OF PLASTIC

Roger A. Davis


Paper or plastic?
Too many have chosen the latter
Grocery sacks, etc. is the matter
American’s mustangs, antelope and buffalo roam
Peak, valley, glen
Now littered with origami plastic and styrofoam

Animals folded by the wind
Is that a dog out there?
Oh look, honey, a deer!
No, an origami steer

Shelf life is dire
Seen some for years
They love barbwire
Seems they will outlive their peers

Paper or plastic?
Let us stop this caper
Please, enough of the litter
Not one more unpleasant critter

NEVER BEEN TO THE OCEAN

NEVER BEEN TO THE OCEAN

Roger A. Davis


I have seen the sea of tranquility on the moon
And Kansas wheat fields’ waves, making one swoon
As a young boy, I played in the waves of a local lake
Hoping, one day, to see the ocean blue
Five decades have gone past, yet to partake
This beached whale of Kansas is long over due
To spawn back to his destiny on seas and coast
To swim, cruise, dive and see the tempest storm
All before my journey to the Heavenly Host
Where His glory will pale all oceans’ form
My calling is to be a creature calling out
Praises to the Maker and the Calmer of the sea
Someday soon, oceans to view, without a doubt
Destiny fulfilled, His praises forever to plea
For eternity

PROSE SACK MAINLINING

PROSE SACK MAINLINING

Roger A. Davis


I need a fix of adventure
When life seems boring
I shop, feeling better with expenditure
Yet, that puts me to snoring

I like death defying thrills
Something that gives you chills
Like slow driving in the hills
And playing poker with dollar bills

When I get bored now, I take a prose sack
I gather up a bunch of words and themes
Shuffling and dealing the literary pack
A word or two at a time it seems
Until there is a rhyming surprise
Which makes this poet surmise

Life is an adventure of daily tries
On our journey until one dies
Not from boredom and loneliness
For this traveler, it will be an accident
Doing a death defying stunt
Like trying to rhyme with orangeness

So when you need an adventure fix
Shop, sing, party hearty and eat chex mix

POKER RULES

POKER RULES

Roger A. Davis


What is your favorite game?
Hold’em, 7 Stud Hi/Lo or 5 Card Draw?
Maybe the famous Dr. Pepper, that is lame
10, 2, 4 wild cards should be outlawed

Texas Hold’em is on TV more than Lassie used to be
Online games for fun and real have an addictive appeal
Always a Mike The Mouth chatting the spill
Or a Moneymaker, Fossilman or Helmuth want-to-be

Poker rules enforced by software at cyber site
Where a million of fun money will buy you zero
A rookie can become WSOP Champ overnight
“Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” they cheered for their hero

Qualifiers hoping in the end to be at the final table
Shuffle Up and Deal, I think it’s better than sex appeal
Unabomber, Jesus, Babydoll and what is your label?
Amarillo Slim, The Professor, all bluff and steal

For most of us involved in a local or casino game
Some are stack shufflers or bluffers of fame
All of us expectantly waiting for our next hand
This is the fix of poker players, an all-in stand

PAIN PILLS

PAIN PILLS

Roger A. Davis


Nature's notice of an overdue bill
The body's warning security alarm
Many times it keeps us from harm
Pain, ignoring it and you will need a pill


Some have a high tolerance
Others, a very low thresh hold
I, for one, am not very bold
Give me a medical trance


Our hearts go out to the terminal kind
Suffering for days on days
Holding on to that eternity it pays
That God will bring you forever peace of mind


He says that one day all tears will be gone
But we thank him now for Tylenol
And that blessed relief lull
Finally sleeping past dawn


So lay us down to painless rest
Ills and soreness put aside
Prayerfully, Lord, we confide
"Hold off today's character test"

EMAIL REPLIES

EMAIL REPLIES

Roger A. Davis


Like a phone call ringing
You sit there hoping
Sometimes even moping
That it will be a reply
Alas, no, it is an ad. Sigh
Don’t people care
That you’re sitting on the edge of your chair?
Needing to hear the good news
Or, at the least, their reply
Because no news, we stew
Waiting until, “Send!” we cry
Don’t be a no-reply friend, we sigh

OUR SPIRITUAL HERITAGE

OUR SPIRITUAL HERITAGE

Roger A. Davis



Both of my grandmothers were genealogists
They traveled and researched many an hour
Wrote charts, trees and family digest
Belonging to organizations like D.A.R. and Mayflower

They each had a wonderful, friendly soul
Enjoying their family and sharing their wealth
Always keeping in mind, this goal
Better to be poor of money than spiritual health

As a young toddler of unusual memory
I remember looking at Mama Cook’s family tree
When spending summertime at the ranch
Papa Cook taking Sunday papers to others of the branch

And one Sunday service on the Methodist church step
Where Mama and Papa Grace and Rev. Rolander and wife
Placed hands on my head, as they held me, dedicating my life
To Jesus Christ, to be a minister of the Gospel, forever His rep

WEBMASTER

WEBMASTER
Dedicated to Luke

Roger A. Davis


Network design, Gold Rush like in 49
Domain names and sites staking territorial claims
The old and new seeking a cyber gold mine
Creating new financial empires were their aims

It was a frantic time of boom and bust for websites
PC innovation, programmers publishing software
Internet downloading fueled the need for more bytes
Computer makers vying for a bigger share

Now, at this present time, .com, .net and .org
Put you at the table of the world’s smorgasbord
Where you partake of a vast array of sounds and sights
Poker, porno, poetry, pop music and literary delights

All this has come about because of the web designer
Creating showroom, sound stage and cyber theater
Where we can buy, sell and chat on a global stage
Thanks to the links created by the Webmaster Sage

EDEN PRAIRIE PROSE WEBSITE INTRODUCTION

Welcome to a site that originates from a home our family converted from a red brick country schoolhouse in 1967. The name of the school was Eden Prairie. My wife and I and our dog Molly enjoy living in the country surrounded by prairie and farm land. I managed grain elevators for 33 years until my health caused disability retirement in 2001. We had an only child. He is still the joy of our life.

My name is Roger A. Davis. The writings found at this site have been inspired by my personal relationship to My Heavenly Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Our purpose is not evangelism. It is just to share our expressions of a person touched by grace and His unconditional love.

These writings extend from the 1970s to present; most written in the last few years. I have been called a narrative poet. The writings are more enjoyable when I recite them and tell background stories. We hope to offer CDs at a later date.

EDEN PRAIRIE PROSE

Eden Prairie Prose site you have chose

Or did you get lost on your way to Oz

You know it is not too late because

Those are ruby slippers, I suppose

Yet, if you continue down this red brick road

Choosing more selections of the munchkin kind

Beware of this author’s warped mind

Because he has a heavenly and earthly zip code

We invite you to accompany us on our trip

Sharing our poems, stories and prose

Who knows?

You may become more hip