Tuesday, July 01, 2008

HERMAN'S SERMON

HERMAN'S SERMON

Roger A. Davis

He was an old codger, set in his ways
Whittling on his front porch most days
His dogs resting at his feet
Then at night, they’d hunt for raccoon meat

One afternoon, slumped back in his chair
On the back of his neck, up stood his hair
A voice he proceeded to hear
Because an angel did appear

These words it spoke
'Herman, God has a sermon for you’
Maybe he thought it was a bad batch of moonshine
Because he didn’t believe in the Devine

The angel said, ‘You are to whittle God a cross
Then put it in a cigar box with a bed of wet moss
This coming Sunday, take it to the Baptist meeting
And find a front row seating'

Everybody will think I’ve lost my mind
Never had anything to do with the church-going kind
'During the service, the preacher will ask people to share
So, Herman, don’t let Him down, be there

When it seems everyone’s finished, stand to your feet
Face the congregation; show the cross and the peat
God promises you He will do an amazing feat'
Herman said, ‘I’ll do it! It sounds super neat’

Sunday comes, Herman is right in front of the pastor
Praying that this won’t be a disaster
As predicted, people were wondering why he was there
Especially with his head bent in prayer

The time for testimonies and concerns seemed done
He stood, told the angel’s words and he was to be the last one
Disbelief was on their faces and some had scorn
Upon seeing this, Herman felt torn

Then he saw the angel in the back and felt perfect love
Herman opened the box and out came a white dove
The parishioners thought it was an old codger’s hoax
Yet, this sermon was just for Herman, not the other folks

Herman died that winter, buried in the sod
Until that day, he knew the love of God
To the church he left a whittled dove and cross
And a note saying, 'Not believing is your loss'

STARRY STARRY NIGHT

STARRY STARRY NIGHT

Roger A. Davis

Constellations in full view
I’ve learned a few
Big Dipper, Little one, too

A time when owls hoot
You see falling stars shoot
And bad guys loot

When there is a full moon
Lovers park and swoon
The radio playing an inspirational tune

I used to fish at night
The thrill of getting a bite
Setting the hook, then the fight

When young, a keg of beer
Bonfire, a hot dog to sear
Marshmallow smore smear

The best, hot tub – Peggy and me
Starry night, skinny dipping, you see
The moon, the stars, I’m so thankful to Thee

JEWELRY

JEWELRY

Roger A. Davis

I wear a pinkie ring made of diamonds, onyx and gold
Handed down by my great grandmother, the story is told
She purchased it in New Orleans at an auction sale
The auctioneer said it came off a pirate ship, which was the tale

Many wear jewelry that carries sentiment
To the wearer, it is priceless no matter what was spent
Engagement rings and wedding bands
Grace the lovers’ hands

Today, piercing is the fad
I’m not into that and I’m glad
Tongue, eyebrow, navel and ear
Just to name a few places where they appear

Other cultures in other countries have traditions
Like bands that stretch ladies’ necks into deformed positions
Men wear breastplates from the needles of the porcupines
And jewelry is made and worn from local mines

There is the functional kind, like a watch worn on the wrist
Hat pin and rhinestone dress, you get my gist
Royalty wear tiaras and crowns at their courts
There are rings, belts and bracelets for winners in sports

For me, a smile is the best thing to be worn
Because it must hurt like the dickens to get any piercing torn
So, don’t frown like you were stuck by a thorn
Be of good spirit and let a grin be what you adorn

FARM ART

FARM ART

Roger A. Davis

Living on the Great Plains
I watch the growing of many grains
Wheat, soybeans, corn and milo
Putting on an artistic show

Songs have been inspired by waving wheat
Corn stalk rows like soldiers standing so neat
Milo with multicolor heads
Patterns of planted field seed beds

Farm homes old and new
Each with their picturesque view
On high hills, others on level ground
A special beauty in the abandoned and rundown

Even the animals are included in this painting
Dotting the green pastures while grazing
Horses are in a class of style and grace
And what a treat to see a colt and mama race

Yet, my favorite farm art is hay
Geometrically baled in almost every way
Called square; big, medium and tall
Usually the last baling in mid-Fall

The big round ones are so cool
Boots at one end; appearance: someone was a fool
Randomly set in a large field
The sun leaving each end with a black shield
This landscape has a special place in my gallery mind
Driving today, I saw it again; thankful it’s not one of a kind

FELLOWSHIP

FELLOWSHIP

Roger A. Davis

Companionship; a definition in one word
Or a group gathering into a herd
Similar interest can be the drawstring
Like hobbies, religion, even the addiction things

Sharing meals and conversations
A reunion with those of past associations
Seems to be a necessary to the human condition
Very present by each holiday tradition

Like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Day
Meeting for a celebration, we will come from far away
At these times, our souls are united for the good
An experience like watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood

Not limited to people only is this
Our pets can give us much bliss
Cats, dogs or whatever you have affection for
Again, solace for your inner core

Fellowship is just a phone call away
Or to God, pray
Don't be a hermit building walls
Metaphorically, honeymoon with life at Niagara Falls

FORENSIC PEEPING TOM

FORENSIC PEEPING TOM

Roger A. Davis

FORENSIC FILES: the original aired on TV
Documentary: true crime reality
For this viewer, nothing but fiction
ME: "Head in the sand" to actual affliction

So, late at night, I peep at my TV screen
At a medical examiner involved in a crime scene
From CSI Vegas, NYC, or Miami
Absorbed in trace elements or DNA to be the solving key

Calleigh, the ballistic expert, is my queen
I gave her up for my favorite poker machine
There are also Ziva, Abby and Jordan Cavanaugh
They seem so nonchalant handling corpses bloody and raw

I wonder how many times Horatio dons his sunglasses
And those Hummers do some amazing passes
'The Man From U.N.C.LE' – Ducky was the hit of that show
Now, McCallum's morgue is where the bodies are in stow

Lately all these autopsies are bringing me down
Like I'm experiencing blunt force trauma to my crown
As you can see by this scrabbled rhyme
I've decide to go on a permanent sabbatical from CSI crime

Eden Prairie School will no longer view the dead
Or watch them dig out the bullet lead
It is my hope to forget all that gore
By closing this life's chapter forever more

SLEEP MORE AND LOSE THE SNORE

SLEEP MORE AND LOSE THE SNORE

Roger A. Davis

Do you have trouble sleeping?
I feel sorry for those who go to bed weeping
Insomnia can be a tough row to hoe
Some take pills to aid, I know

Personally, sleep apnea is my situation
A BiPap machine used throughout resting duration
Not wearing this when I slumber
I would be six feet under, surrounded by lumber

Nightmares and dreams can be a mess
The scary ones cause much duress
I still dream about work related dilemmas
They seem so real; I wonder why because

I’ve been retired for eight years
But upon waking, it’s so nice to lose those fears
Sometimes we question their meaning
And, yes, we have some that are redeeming

There are night owls and early to bed and rise
A snoring spouse, the other tries
Elbow in the ribs or Breathe Rights
I used to cause my family many sleepless nights

My breathing machine took care of the roaring
To this very day, I do no snoring
A sleep study may be a needed task
It could save your life to wear the mask