tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13622675666116513722024-03-08T16:01:19.761-08:00Musings from the Rocking ChairPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-41630124137877677102011-03-03T14:04:00.000-08:002011-03-03T14:06:41.430-08:00What I Can DoI can think of many things<br />I can speak with knowledge,<br />I can learn most anything<br />I can teach when you listen.<br /><br />I can observe through my eyes<br />I can hear the softest notes<br />I can touch what is there<br />I can teach these things to you.<br /><br />I can comprehend complex problems<br />and solve them most of the time,<br />all these things I can do<br />and give them all to you.<br /><br />When I try to think of God<br />I cannot speak nor comprehend,<br />nor even imagine<br />who God is.<br /><br />I cannot speak<br />I cannot say the words,<br />I cannot imagine <br />or conjure up a thought.<br /><br />I cannot teach; <br />you cannot listen.<br />Each of us is on our own<br />in knowing who God is.<br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 3/3/11Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-38597288778285253602011-03-03T12:32:00.000-08:002011-03-03T12:36:42.877-08:00A PrayerWhen I want to pray<br />and have nothing to say,<br />sitting in an empty room<br />uneasy with nowhere to go;<br />my thoughts wander through the <br />forest of my life, leaving<br />footprints in the snow.<br /><br />As a bed of crocuses gives color<br />to the black and white,<br />so a past filled with memories<br />gives passion to my life.<br /><br />God’s blessings of special people<br />shaped where I should go <br />as I wandered though the forest<br />leaving footprints in the snow.<br /><br />My persistence in pursuing<br />an education and degrees<br />like pine trees ever green<br />in that forest of memories.<br /><br />The people who were there<br />when I needed them,<br />trail markers for me to follow<br />through the forest of my life.<br /><br />When that trail was hard<br />causing pain and strife<br />I was blessed with loving people<br />helping me though that forest <br />which was my life.<br /><br />Feeling God was with me <br />when I became the helper,<br />setting me on the path<br />that leads to a better life.<br /> <br />Then I know what my prayer <br />must be as I sit in that empty room.<br />Thank you God for all you’ve done,<br />without you I could never have traveled<br />through the forest<br />leaving footprints in the snow.<br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 2/24/11Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-63600113074125189912010-11-22T12:26:00.000-08:002010-11-22T12:27:47.541-08:00The ZooWe went to the zoo the other day,<br />my Mama, my Grandpa and me.<br />I had never been to a zoo before,<br />I was excited about animals I might see.<br /><br />We got to the zoo’s parking lot,<br />and I grabbed my Grandpa’s hand<br />as I was taught. I held it too, <br /> til we got into the zoo.<br /><br />Then we went into a little<br />house where they gave us maps<br />and told Mama where to make<br />bathroom stops.<br /><br />First we went to the children’s zoo <br /> to see the small animals<br />some in little cages, a small owl in a tall one.<br />There were a bunch of frogs,<br />a few little snakes, and the owl,<br /> that was about all,<br />except for a furry little animal<br />asleep by a waterfall.<br /><br />We walked by a woods <br />where wolves ran free.<br />There was a high fence<br />between those woods <br />and me. I was kinda scared.<br />If it wasn’t there, <br />we would have been eats<br />at a wolf-feast.<br /><br />We saw some giraffes,<br />they were really tall<br />like they were walking<br />on stilts and they didn’t fall.<br /><br />There was a white bear<br />which swam in a pond.<br />There were other bears too<br />but they were brown.<br /><br /><br />There were lions and tigers<br />and other big animals with <br />names I couldn’t pronounce.<br />Grandpa called them big cats.<br />I said, “ No Grandpa, they can’t be that<br />because they won’t fit on my lap.” <br /><br />We saw monkeys in bunches<br />some with white beards<br />which looked like my <br />grandpa’s except they had more hair.<br />There were these great big monkeys<br />who sat and did nothing. Someone <br />called them gillas or something like that.<br /><br />Then we ate lunch at the zoo <br />in a building with lots of things to choose.<br />I got a hamburger and some fries too,<br />as usual, Grandpa paid for our food.<br /><br />We passed a wagon which sold<br />peanuts and popcorn.<br />Grandpa bought a large cup<br />of that good stuff. <br />He and I ate it as we walked<br />until Momma said, “That’s enough!”<br /><br />We went to a farm in the zoo <br />and saw horses and cows<br />a pen full of goats which I could pet.<br />One of them followed me and tried<br />to eat the shirt on my back. The lady in charge<br />told me to give it a whack.<br /><br />We came to the pen <br />where the seals swam,<br />it had large rocks <br />where the seals <br />could sun themselves.<br /><br />It was the best fun<br />watching a man in the pen<br />play games with the seals<br />feeding them fish <br />when they did tricks.<br />The seals would swim<br />down to the bottom of the pond<br />turn in circles around and around<br />then come back up to eat again.<br /><br />On the way out my grandpa<br />bought me a gift.<br />I chose a seal doll, <br />it was of soft stuff.<br /><br />When we got to Mama’s car<br />and I was put into my seat<br />I snuggled down<br />holding my seal<br />and went to sleep<br />all the way home.<br /><br />I have-ta say <br />I had a good day.<br /><br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 11/9/2010Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-66211596272935212002010-09-28T16:33:00.000-07:002010-09-28T16:36:50.002-07:00GrowthWhen I was a child<br />in a small town<br />looking at the stars<br />in a darkened sky,<br />it excited me.<br />I didn’t know why.<br /><br />As a young man<br />living on a farm, <br />I knew more about<br />those lights up there.<br />I expected it.<br />I didn’t think why.<br /><br />When I moved to the city<br />I could never see the beauty<br />of those dots of light.<br />I knew they were there.<br />I didn’t care why.<br /><br />Now that I am old <br />when I look to the sky<br />I see one or two dots of light.<br />I wonder why.<br /><br />I know there are uncountable<br />planets, suns and galaxies,<br />an awe inspiring array,<br />more beautiful than I can imagine<br />I marvel why.<br /><br />What minds human’s have <br />to see into space and pierce<br />the grandeur<br />of all the heavens above.<br /><br />Of course there is no answer<br />it is a miracle to me.<br />It stops my heartbeat as I gaze<br />at those two little lights<br />knowing what is beyond <br />in the middle of the night. Paul J. Wolf 9/21/10Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-82302768199808119922010-07-25T14:20:00.000-07:002010-07-25T15:51:30.878-07:00The VagabondThe Vagabond<br /><br />I am a vagabond spirit<br />knowing what I seek<br />traveling from place to place<br />desperately wanting peace.<br /><br />My travels have sent me<br />where other spirits have not been <br />taking me from ecstasy <br />to the depths of despair<br />all in a youthful year.<br /><br />My spirit followed a call to prayer<br />which ended after trying years,<br />and I was left <br />rudderless in an endless sea.<br /><br />Then what seemed by chance<br />a course was given me<br />the work of helping others<br />guided my spirit through the waters<br />no longer lost, still searching for my peace.<br /><br />Then I married, had a family<br />my spirit soared with worth<br />until illness took my wife<br />and left my spirit drifting in the sea. <br /><br />So I floated, losing faith,<br />still wondering if my spirit would <br />find that special place<br />where peace could touch <br />my wandering spirit soul.<br /><br />Again I was blessed with<br />my daughters love and my grandchild<br />I met another lady who<br />loved me and I loved her.<br />Yet I wandered still.<br /><br />As I grew older and more unable<br />to live so many lives,<br />my spirit found the peace it sought<br />it was no special place. <br /><br />I await the end <br />of my many journeys<br />treasuring all the turns <br />I took to find the peace<br />to satisfy my wandering soul. <br /><br />Paul J. Wolf, 7/25/10Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-19520714209571860092010-07-08T12:01:00.000-07:002010-07-08T12:03:05.917-07:00A Sunny MorningWhen I wake up and there is sun,<br />things are bright throughout the house.<br />I feel like a gift has been given me<br />that particular day.<br /><br />My thoughts are lively, my step is quick<br />my pains seem diminished,<br /> the burdens dismissed<br />as I go about my daily tasks.<br /><br />This doesn’t happen all the time<br />only when the sun does shine.<br /><br />Paul J. Wolf, 7/5/10Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-40202251649507518042010-05-30T08:34:00.000-07:002010-05-30T08:37:15.409-07:00Soul SearchI opened up my soul<br />to find the guts of it, <br />the thoughts and feelings<br />deep inside <br />its terrifying essence.<br /><br />What I saw immediately<br />were memories of long ago,<br />shame and fear, but most of all<br />hurt from slights, rejections <br />from those I wished acceptance.<br /><br />Then anger spread throughout my soul<br />like spores from some unearthly fungus<br />touching every part of me<br />pushing hate, energizing action.<br /><br />Hate crawled in slowly<br />moving like a hunter<br />sneaking upon its prey<br />unseen until it kills.<br /><br />I looked in horror <br />watching this unfold<br />seeing it as the damnation<br />of my sinful soul.<br /><br />More memories poured out of me<br />of greed devouring my mind<br />focused on material<br />forgetting the spiritual.<br /><br />Despair began to enter<br />as I cried out in my fear,<br />“there must be more to my soul<br />than what I see deep inside.”<br /><br />Then memories of people<br />who loved me young and old<br />came forward in my soul.<br />Love evolved like a flower<br />blushing as it opens its petals.<br /><br />Hope then entered slowly,<br />quietly calming my fear<br />ordering the memories <br />to focus on what is real to me.<br /><br />Peace came to me quickly<br />when all this was seen,<br />I closed up my soul<br />to live with it.<br />It is everything I am. <br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 5/20/10Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-31672010443112018542010-04-17T06:38:00.000-07:002010-04-17T06:40:44.796-07:00It has been awhileIt has been awhile since I last entered poetry. I have been busy getting a children's book published on ebooks. The site is www.bobbiesebooks.com if you are interested. Look for Sissypus, the name of the story. <br /><br />I have added a few poems I had written while doing this. Thank you all for being so patient with me.Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-59547775276239468222010-04-16T06:55:00.000-07:002010-04-16T06:58:21.409-07:00Early Spring OutingWe took a walk one early spring day<br />when the crush of winter was sliding away,<br />me and my love down the village walk<br />enjoying the fresh air, each other’s talk.<br /><br />Along the way we watched our steps<br />for doggie doo was in the way.<br />Slush covered areas of the concrete,<br />cars splashed it on us in the street,<br />it was enough to make us weep.<br /><br />With all the dodging, being alert,<br />we sometimes had to step into the dirt,<br />which, of course, was gooey mud<br />covering our shoes, they were full of crud.<br /><br />Still we got some exercise and fresh air<br />even though the odor wasn’t there<br />except for fumes from the exhaust<br />of those cars in the streets by us.<br /><br />The snow so white at one time<br />was now black with sooty grime.<br />We came back home that lovely day<br />ready to be inside and stay.<br /><br />Paul J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-44284686475317448032010-04-16T06:53:00.000-07:002010-04-16T06:54:52.373-07:00MeditationFrom my window on the fifth floor<br />while saying my morning prayer<br />I saw so many different sights<br />it flooded my thoughts with awe.<br /><br />Across from me was a wood<br />filled with tall trees. <br />I felt the beauty of that site<br />the wonder of their growth<br />from a simple seed to such heights.<br /><br />All around me was the proof <br />of man’s ingenuity.<br />An airplane flew overhead, <br />a train came roaring down the tracks,<br />cars were driven on the street<br />where factories stood by the side.<br /><br />Above me was an endless sky<br />with galaxies I could not see<br />knowing from the books I read<br />how vast was space beyond<br />any imagined possibility.<br /><br />I felt a God in all of this<br />the wonder of His Plan<br />how loving He was to include<br />me, in the grandeur of it all.<br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 02/19/2010Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-67924244346065655932010-04-16T06:49:00.000-07:002010-04-16T06:52:43.199-07:00January ThawThe trees stand naked<br />each small twig exposed.<br />The woods are open <br />for all to see, an x-ray<br />of its bones.<br /><br />There are deer running,<br />jumping over logs; a sight one<br />never sees when the trees<br />are clothed.<br /><br />January thaw clears the snow<br />leaving the ground open <br />with its dead wood and vines,<br />imperfections one might see<br />that clothing covers over.<br /><br />There is beauty in its bareness<br />with all its scars, trees fallen by wind <br />or split with lightning bolts, hollowed <br />by the rot of time; homes <br />for small animals who burrow there.<br /><br />Enjoy it for it doesn’t last.<br />Winter brings a cover of snow again<br />and Spring brings the clothing back<br />covering up that beauty of yearly wear.<br /><br />Paul J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-91313593243835487322010-01-20T08:46:00.000-08:002010-01-20T08:48:41.404-08:00VoiceThe Voice<br /><br />In an ancient age,<br />in an ancient land,<br />Samuel heard God’s voice<br />waking him to listen<br />although he was not yet a man.<br /><br />According to the story<br />God’s voice was sparkling clear<br />not a whisper or a clap of thunder,<br />but a conversation <br />as you and I might have here. <br /><br />Not a lecture nor demand<br />but a simple telling <br />Samuel what would happen,<br />his destiny when he became a man.<br /><br />How does this story apply to us?<br />If we listen with open mind and heart<br />will He tell us what he wants<br />as we grow older too?<br /><br />The more I think about these questions<br />the more I become confused<br />feeling like a child lost <br />in a distant land.<br /><br />Sometimes I think I understand<br />and I listen as best I can<br />but he leaves me <br />with my own thoughts<br />to struggle with the person I am.<br /><br />P.J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-54896054388993721742009-11-29T09:36:00.000-08:002009-11-29T09:54:00.610-08:00RelatingThese are thoughts I had while driving through the Appalachian Mountains.<br /><br />It is a marvel to see<br />the Appalachians in the Fall;<br />not just the many shades of red, <br />yellow and green,<br />but the thought of it all.<br /><br />Hillsides at angles too steep to climb,<br />rock cliffs that fall straight down.<br />The trees dense with scrubs and vines,<br />vivid colors both high and low<br />it makes one wonder what's inside.<br /><br />What if I could walk within those colors<br />beautiful to see, find a path<br />where a deer might run<br />or a stream that flows beneath.<br />Would I see flowers or bramble bush<br />bluebells or poison oak or both?<br /><br />Would the walk be easy<br />like sauntering down a street,<br />or would I stumble and fall<br />from the roots that pull at your feet?<br /><br />Would there be blue birds and squirrels<br />and rabbits running along, or would I be attacked<br />by rattlers and bears and perhaps large cats?<br /><br />The forest is full of beauty;<br />part to cherish, part to fear.<br />I can admire that beauty<br />from afar, it is safer here.<br /><br />Or would it be better<br />to walk under the trees,<br />taking a chance to experience<br />life in that atmosphere?<br /><br />Would one gain confidence<br />in the forest, overcoming the fear,<br />eventually feeling comfortable<br />among the dangers there?<br /><br />Paul J. Wolf 11/25/09Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-31713116548846081802009-11-15T08:48:00.000-08:002009-11-15T09:08:58.604-08:00EmergingWhile I was musing in my rocking chair, I started thinking about my childhood, living in a small city by the Mississippi River. In those days in that small city, one could look up at the stars and actually see them. Where I live now you can't do that. There is too much stuff in the air to let the lights of the stars shine through. But there were other things to do. Play was not organized by the adult world and children were left to their own to do whatever they could find to do.<br /><br />Emerging<br /><br />Lying on my back in the grass<br />wet from the night dew<br />looking at the Milky Way<br />wisps of lights up in the sky<br />wondering what they are.<br /><br />A night hawk screams overhead,<br />bats dart after bugs I cannot see:<br />too young to think about it all<br />soon to be called into bed.<br /><br />The morning sun is hot<br />bare feet on concrete<br />walking in grass as I can,<br />wondering what to do all day<br />while looking for my friends.<br /><br />It's Summer, there is no school,<br />no homework or a time to study.<br />We have a few chores and the rest of the day<br />is ours to enjoy with our play.<br /><br />Will we have enough players<br />for a ball game,<br />or we can get on our bikes to fish<br />on the banks of the Mississippi<br />where we can explore cast off<br />boats rotting on the shore.<br /><br />Maybe we will ride into the woods <br />out of town to that old shack,<br />the one we found by Sugar Creek<br />across the railroad tracks.<br />Or ride to the ball bark<br />sneak in to watch the Gems play.<br /><br />If we can't do any of that,<br />we can play mumbly peg<br />in the dirt by the street.<br />You know, I kind of wish<br />we were back in school<br /><br />Paul Wolf 11/3/09Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-48864170236010430852009-10-06T10:50:00.000-07:002009-10-06T11:03:46.144-07:00Holocaust MuseumHi readers,<br /><br />We went to the holocaust museum in Skokie,IL and this is my reflection on that visit.<br /><br /> Genocide<br /><br /> A boxcar sits alone<br /> Empty<br /> The door open for all to see.<br /> An old car<br /> made of rough, wooden boards and steel<br /> Foreboding<br /><br /> Enter and the boards scream<br /> sounds you never want to hear.<br /> Ears are punctured with the sounds.<br /> Captured<br /><br /> The boards stink<br /> with the smell of human waste<br /> sweat, urine, feces.<br /> Overwhelming<br /><br /> The boards have faces<br /> Crowded<br /> Gaunt, with eyes terrified<br /> wondering if they will die.<br /> Pleading eyes, pointing eyes.<br /><br /> Empty<br /><br />Paul Wolf, 10/6/09Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-21496832979181646432009-09-13T13:23:00.000-07:002009-09-13T13:36:17.460-07:00What Do You Say?What do you say to your God when you pray<br />not in a Church, or a Mosque or a Shul.<br />When you're at home or go out for a walk,<br />possibly dreaming on the side of a hill.<br />What do you say? "God, are you having a good day."<br /><br />Do you talk to Him like a good friend<br />or in such awe you don't talk at all,<br />either way, what do you say?<br /><br />What do you say when you feel blessed<br />everything going the right way.<br />You're healthy and strong in the midst of your family.<br />What do you say when you pray?<br />"God, it is truly a lovely day.<br /><br />What do you say when things go black,<br />your soul is empty, you're all alone<br />sitting with Job on that hill of dung.<br />What do you say? "God, I curse your day."<br /><br />When everthing is bleak, full of despair,<br />only then can thoughts enlighten your mind,<br />and echos like something you have never heard.<br />And so you know why you're alive.<br /><br />Then you can say when you pray<br />to your God that day,<br />"I understand, I'll do my best<br />as well as I can.<br /><br />Paul J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-17154788767869067252009-09-13T13:05:00.000-07:002009-09-13T13:23:14.955-07:00The Water MocassinA Water Mocassin slithered through a pond<br />deadly as it approached its prey.<br />Down into the depths it swam to kill<br />eating all it came upon.<br />It seemed it would grow large and strong<br />destroyin all life in that small pond.<br /><br />A young man came to the shore<br />to fish with his rod and reel.<br />The fish came to his bate,<br />along with that deadly snake<br />which attacked the young man<br />who took a hefty board<br />and bashed it on its head.<br /><br />So the snake no longer lived <br />to feed upon the fish.<br />Life in the small pond<br />was spared that wondrous day.<br /><br />However, there will always be<br />a fear wihin that pond.<br />Death can just as easily appear<br />some summer day when no one<br />is aware and consume the life<br />that is there.<br /><br />Paul J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-53115352226626138452009-08-03T17:57:00.000-07:002009-08-03T17:59:42.927-07:00Long TimeDear Readers,<br /><br />I know I haven't written any poetry lately or published any. I have had a bit of a battle with cancer. I have won round one and will start writing more in the near future. Give me a week or two more.<br /><br />PaulPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-41479302287365586352009-05-20T08:33:00.000-07:002009-05-20T09:11:14.952-07:00StruggleI wrote this as a comment on stuggle. Struggle with belief systems, not a thesis on theology. As you can tell from my biograph, I am a person immersed in religion. So I write about it.<br /><br />Through The Years<br /><br />Through the years I wondered why<br />Jesus chose to die the way he did?<br />I know the reasons faith gives<br />about our sins and sacrifice, <br />salvation of the human race,<br />the way Romans punished crime.<br /><br />God died that day upon the cross<br />in excruciating pain, a bloody death<br />Why would he choose to die that way?<br /><br />I know by faith he rose from the dead<br />to spread his teachings throughout the earth<br />for centuries to come until the end<br />for all mankind to emulate<br />embracing death instead of fear.<br /><br />Through the years I wondered why<br />so many people on this earth<br />have never heard of his death<br />or don't believe he died.<br />What of those people <br />in other univers,<br />will they be saved as well?<br /><br />I have so many questions <br />about our life, death and<br />what happens at the end.<br />I don't know what to think<br />I am told to just believe.<br />It is hard as Thomas knows.<br /><br />Through the years <br />I have strggled<br />with all this<br />doing the best I can.<br />I know the answer lies<br />in how I treat my fellow men,<br />who stand with me<br />before a loving God.<br /><br />Paul Wolf 5/10/09Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-21712509343649846922009-05-03T10:49:00.000-07:002009-05-03T10:55:56.340-07:00WaitingIf you have had the experience in the poem, "Medical Test", then you will have had the following experience.<br /><br />The Phone Call<br /><br />Have you ever felt death's shadow<br />sitting beside you, <br />trying to hold your hand<br />like a lover you reject.<br />Persistent.<br /><br />You wait and wait<br />days and hours pass,<br />hoping it will disappear.<br />Knowing all along <br />a single call, the right words<br />will banish it to some other dark place.<br /><br />You hope and hope that call will come.<br />Wait! It could be the message<br />that marries you to the frightful specter.<br />You don't know and you won't <br />until the phone rings.<br /><br />Paul Wolf, 4/30/09Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-72333304059936086642009-04-26T09:12:00.000-07:002009-04-26T17:50:32.358-07:00Visiting the DoctorI am sure most of you who are older have had this experience.<br /><br />Medical Test<br /><br />Have you ever been in between<br />with nowhere to move<br />knowing the way<br />afraid to go.<br /><br />Time stands still<br />like a movie in pause.<br />It has to continue<br />to know what will happen,<br />your life in its hands.<br /><br />You talk to your mind.<br />"Stop that worry!<br />Don't obsess,<br />creating images, fantasies,<br />nothing more until you have the facts.<br />You have to take that test."<br /><br />As slowly as icicles melt<br />on a cold winter day<br />warmed ever so slightly<br />by a winter sun,<br />time moves again.<br />You are afraid.<br /><br />Nobody knows.<br />The results will bring<br />either relief or pain.Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-36696021494004986852009-04-24T11:17:00.000-07:002009-05-03T00:28:21.094-07:00More PoemsI have not been keeping this blog up to date. My writing has bent to another area. But I am back today. The poems I am leaving are short and occurred when I was in a hospital room in a place far from home. I hope you enjoy them.<br /><br />Little Brown Mouse<br /><br />A little brown mouse came scurrying in<br />singing to God a little hymn.<br />Bringing with it a little joy <br />to a sad and lonely day.<br /><br />I wondered why that liitle mouse<br />entered into my troubled life.<br />Did she enter to spread some cheer<br />to move my fearful thoughts <br />away to places of hope so dear?<br /><br />Then I wondered all the more,<br />Why was I here in this place of woe?<br />Did I do something so very bad<br />that punishment was needed to change my path?<br /><br />The hymn she sang was one of love.<br />The tune was light <br />lifting my spirits high above.<br />Then I knew why I was here<br />to learn how a little mouse <br />can spread in a troubled life<br />the cheer needed to survive.<br /><br />Eddie<br /><br />On a lonely day in a lonely place<br />I sat down to a meal.<br />There I met a gentleman <br />whose smile drew me like a bright tune.<br /><br />The man was old, hearing impaired,<br />intelligent, wise and quick of mind.<br />I knew he lived a long long life<br />I listened as he spoke.<br /><br />He told of a life of grief and good times<br />of fear and facing death in war<br />when he was a youth.<br />He talked of the loss of his first wife<br />and a child, a boy so dear.<br />There were other children who lost their way,<br />the hurt caused furrows above his eyes.<br />He praised his present wife of many years<br />who cared for him so well.<br /><br />He spoke about his accomplishments,<br />the pride was in his voice,<br />of working steadily all his life<br />of loyalty, what was right.<br />He didn't understand where<br />all these values have disappeared.<br /><br />But most of all he talked about<br />a little dog he loved<br />small enough to fit his lap<br />and snuggle under his arm.<br />His pleasure brightened the dreary room<br /><br />And then we talked of facing death,<br />of being tired of holding on.<br />The fear and strange attraction death brings<br />as age creaps up our spine.<br />Some small things that holds us here,<br />keeps us hanging to a thread <br />such as a little dog, whose love <br />gives such cherished need.<br /><br />PaulPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-10457372690034846312009-02-16T15:36:00.000-08:002009-02-16T15:48:28.355-08:00My LadyNutmeg brown the color of her eyes,<br />Silver-black her hair<br />a smile that opens like a rose<br />greeting the morning air.<br />A blossom slowly opening<br />on a century plant.<br />A river of bluebells with<br />a forest for its banks.<br /><br />A chipmunk shyly peaking out<br />ready to scamper under the leaves,<br />or a couple of squirrels<br />on the ground searching for their burried food<br />worried about losing what they have,<br />in constant motion to feed their brood.<br /><br />Waves lapping on the shore<br />smooting jagged pieces of stone<br />like water flowing over a cliff<br />forming its cup in the rock below<br />creating a basin of foam.<br /><br />Or a Grandfather Clock in a hall<br />ordering time by its pedulum swing,<br />never stopping its persistent march<br />to never ending dreams.<br /><br />Constantly thinking of ways to please<br />like getting a kiss from a springtime breeze.<br />Catching fireflies on a summer night to place in a jar<br />watching the eerie green light.<br /><br />These images and memories past<br />are brought to life by her acts<br />of kindness and generosity.<br /><br />P.J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-32886607727501573432008-11-21T08:41:00.000-08:002008-11-21T08:44:24.294-08:00The Robbin's SongEach spring I listen<br />for the Robin’s song,<br />hoping and straining<br />to hear it’s unique trill<br />which lifts my spirit,<br />renews my will.<br /><br />When I was a young man<br />walking the woods<br />listening to the sparrows <br />squawking in the bush,<br />watching the cardinals<br />flit in the snowy brush<br />singing their songs in the <br />morning’s blush.<br /><br />It was the Robin’s song<br />that said winter is past,<br />spring would be here<br />with its color and warmth.<br />I never forgot how pleasing it was.<br /><br />Through the years of worry and work<br />when doubts of survival touched my soul,<br />never knowing what madness the day would bring <br />I listened for spring and the Robin to sing.<br /><br />Like a horse that’s burdened <br />with a wagon’s load,<br />plowing ahead step by step,<br />never knowing when it will end, <br />expecting the rights to become wrong,<br />listening then to the Robin’s song.<br /><br />When nature took the good things away<br />leaving of life an empty loft,<br />nothing existed that brightened the day<br />and darkness settled into my bones.<br />I remember what I learned <br />when walking as a young man<br />listening to the Robin’s song<br />until the sadness fades away.<br /><br />P. J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1362267566611651372.post-4874903891971754902008-11-20T06:32:00.000-08:002008-11-20T06:33:47.263-08:00Treasures<br /><br /><br />Today I stopped to watch<br />a squirrel scurry from tree to tree<br />carrying acorns in its mouth<br />burying them in a squirrel pantry.<br /><br />Its coat fluffy with winter fur<br />intent upon its work;<br />driven for what was needed<br />to live through cold and snow.<br /><br />Looking around I see the earth<br />bedding down for the frosted months,<br />brown and grey with little green,<br />waiting for its coat of white.<br /><br />The wind picks up, the rain begins.<br />Hurrying toward my warm home,<br />I think about the dark days<br />during winter’s blast, bone chilling cold.<br /><br />Wondering whether it will be<br />a long and dreaded interval<br />before the crocuses raise their heads<br />through the melting snow.<br /><br />When did I lose <br />the joy of looking at winter’s fare<br />full of fun, sledding down hills, <br />snowball fights and snowmen?<br /><br />Those buried treasures of my youth<br />never to be lived again,<br />except deep in my memory<br />waiting patiently for new birth.<br /><br />P. J. WolfPaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15972581445193163715noreply@blogger.com0