Saturday, June 23, 2012



The assignment was to write a poem, and style or form, on Ecclesiastes 2:13 which reads:  
Then I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness. 

There's probably a name for the form and style, but I don't know what it is. 


Update:  I have learned two things.  One, this is called "light verse," and two--more amazing--it took First!


A WORD TO THE WISE
and otherwise

A solemn contemplation of Ecclesiastes 2:13


A fool and his money are soon to be parted,
so goes the saying, but don’t get me started
with maxims about a word to the wise
and the fool who is wise in his own eyes…
Well, you see how this goes, there’s no end to it.
When you write poems or prose , you simply must do it.
Write using wisdom and you can’t go wrong
as it’s hard to sound foolish when writing a song
about smarts that are smarter than the usual fool
who thinks he’s so cool when he gets out of school.
Then there’s the matter of darkness and light,
and poor dumb old Adam who much prefers night
to consider his deeds—while sensual not prurient—
are best done in shadows in any event.
When your house is a mess and company’s coming
you might turn the lights low and keep the fan humming.
If your unscheduled guest is inclined to get flirty,
he might be discouraged if the house appears dirty.
But if he’s the right kind of fellow he might
appreciate reflections catching the light
from candles strategically placed here and there,
highlighting those amber glints in your hair.
Let’s just cut this out and give up the fight:
Wisdom trumps folly and dark dies in light.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


SPRING JOY


The long-awaited showers come at last
and birth us forth from winter’s sheltered womb.
With lightening flash and then the thunder’s boom,
the hard rain soaks our yard to mud so fast,
my house has lost its shine and I’m aghast--
our dog’s big paws leave tracks from room to room
while I, with my rag mop, just scrub and fume
although I know this time will soon be past.

With great joy I shall welcome blessed May
when roses bloom and spread their lovely cheer.
They seem to sing and in their sweet refrain
they call to mind a long ago spring day
when my beloved said to me, “My dear,
come walk with me. Let’s stroll down Lover’s Lane.


An Italian Sonnet

Second Place 
Siloam Spring Writers
May challenge