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POEMS BY DANNY

September-October 2011

A dying leaf on yonder branch

a dead one at my feet

gray clouds

cover the skies

a rain drop

splashes against my cheek.

The calm and peace of morning

resides with me still

the tasks asking

"when will I be done?"

call me to be energetic, bold

but I prefer being peacefully meek.

The temperature is in the mid fifties

neither too cold or hot

two cookies with my coffee

darn! I should have only had one

'tis the wrong path

to reach the weight loss I seek.

Another rain drop on my shoulder

followed by a few more

they clean the air

kiss the ground

as with any day it is worth living

giving, receiving, even if joints creak.

dc riggs © 102111

When you are a person of wealth

you should serve God, Country

and humanity

for we owe our existence to our Creator

all that we have is from His hand

salvation and healing from His Son

we are citizens of our Nation

we, not a King, Queen, or dictator

determine our future and prosperity

we serve humanity

for we are all creations of God

and for each, Christ equally died

"Am I a man of wealth?" you ask

YES! Indeed I am

my bank account may be low

my body sometimes weak, diseased

but I have life's blood flowing, cells living

I have the gift of this moment

to draw breath, see beauty, do good

I have the promise of eternity

the mountains, sea, plain, desert

are God's, but mine to enjoy

the heavens declare His majesty

so why can't I?

Family, friends, neat strangers

are all given to me

to love, cherish, and enjoy

Yes my friend, we are

though we may not know it

we are persons with endless wealth!

dc riggs © 14 Oct 2010

"Not Chicken Approved"

The chickens don't approve of course

but they don't cheer the Kentucky Colonel either

but I and many others

like what you do with chickens

making them tasty

to fill

the hungry need

of the masses of folks

but still there is more, and more

you provide jobs

they bring forth taxes

often squandered by politicians

bureaucrats and the like

they maintain stable households

giving a solid foundation

for our great Nation

your business is founded on values

a faith in Jesus Christ

the Son of the Living God

bringing to the community a compass

of morality and decency

as you honor the Sabbath

to keep it Holy

those who are un-holy, non-believers

may assault with untruth

but you have my prayers, support

and I believe, God's as well

don't worry about the chickens vote

they are a non-playing force.

dc riggs © 10 October 2011

Welcome to October my friend

as the year races to its end

the frost will soon

grace the pumpkin

Texas heat will dissipate

they will not complain but participate

with a cool shiver

Fall comes now with lovely color

life fades to death's state

the shift to dormant needs no debate

there is a crispness in the air

gone is the summer and summer's fare

soups and chili

the hearth, please add a log to the fire

we march toward Thanksgiving

hopefully we are grateful to be living

the birthday of Jesus

in reality is just around the corner

then the year twenty and eleven will end

so Welcome to October my friend.

dc riggs © 1 October 2011

There may be a wrinkle or two

or three, four, maybe more

some days we may feel "under the hill"

but we are never "over the hill"

we drive slower

see and hear with difficulty

we are the "Gray-Haired Brigade"

still making a difference

day by day, somewhat unafraid.

We or our siblings faced the Depression

World War Two, Korea, Viet Nam

some were in Somalia's folly

older troops in the Gulf's desert war

we saw the first jet planes fly

marveled when man went to the moon

we are the "Gray-Haired Brigade"

still making a difference

day by day, somewhat unafraid.

We may not know Twitter's short-hand

or grasp all of Facebook's mystery

but our friendships are more than electronic

and our education more than bionic

English, History, Math, Science

we brought America into the technological age

we are the "Gray-Haired Brigade"

still making a difference

day by day, somewhat unafraid.

Laugh if you will at old geezers, Baby Boomers

we may forget, but often remember

party lines, the cold of winter in an outhouse

history items that the young know not of

we lived them, survived them

we know Freedom's meaning, believe in it

we are the "Gray-Haired Brigade"

still making a difference

day by day, somewhat unafraid.

Perfect? No! for we have erred many times

we fought Fascism, Nazism, and Communism

but let Socialism creep quietly in

we took an oath to defend America

against all enemies, foreign and domestic

rest assured, We Will! by voice and by ballot!

for we are the "Gray-Haired Brigade"

still making a difference

day by day, somewhat unafraid.

dc riggs © 15 September 2011

Two lives, a troubled past

a question mark

on future bliss

two lives that once met

wed

now meet again

can she trust him?

can he trust her?

can grace

the unmerited favor of God

be a catalyst?

has she ever, can she now

respect him?

does he still love her

can he his love to her show?

the past cannot be relived

forgiveness, forgetfulness, grace

can put it to rest

time heals

the question mark

can become a glorious plus

for two lives, if together again, at last.

dc riggs © 3 September 2011

I heard that once upon a time

there was a man

and his camel

enjoying the desert air

an experience made to share.

Sahara, a place to explore

second greatest desert

beyond Antarctica's cold shore

one is hot, the other cold

few enjoy both, so I've been told.

By horse and by camel

the desert to explore

in those days of once upon a time

the days of the desert boot

for foul breath camels, what a hoot.

dc riggs 21 August 2011

A hug given in Jesus Name

is like a cup of water

it does not come back void

it is like fodder

that nourishes the lonely soul

touches the heart

it is not given to be cleaver

but to quench a thirst

and that is smart

for without the human touch

we will shrivel, die

but some do not know how

so others must try

it is more than a simple game.

dc riggs © 6 August 2011

We pass through this world

but once

many we encounter along the way

most skitter past

as if rocks on the road

some are nails

puncturing where we thread

others are acquaintances

a quaint term

meaning that we smile or nod

then pass on

but here and there we find

the friend

some are of brief duration

perhaps a bit of a mixed blessing

friendship comes in various degrees

of rooted-ness

we pick, we choose, so do they

sunrise, sunset, life moves on

cursed are the friendless

for they are alone

blessed

are they with friends

for in the final counting, at life's end

our Father, our Creator, His Son

God Himself, is indeed our truest friend.

dc riggs © 21 August 2011

'Tis a bit blurry even I must say

yet photos seldom lie

but there was the turkey and the penguin

the penguin was red

the turkey of course was me

where can you find

you may ask

two different birds of a feather?

the penguin was red

the turkey of course was me

you must search the back ways

of Louisville town

near the birth place of bats

to find the penguin that is red

the turkey you find will of course be me

and so my friend my tale

I have told you

at least a small part

of the night of the penguin so red

who met the old turkey, who was me.

dc riggs 19 August 2011

I had a thought once

it seems so long, long ago

of what I would do

what I would be

a view of the future

now a memory of the past

a simple thought, but not the last.

Today is that which is in-between

sandwiched not so neatly

between yesterday and tomorrow

it is our now

tomorrow's dream becomes

today's reality, or not

then in an instant is history's dot.

Be careful is the warning I'm told

what you ask for you may get

write down the thought

for though simple

it probably needs not be lost

how warm the memories

sheltering us, as if a thousand trees.

Father, thank you for each thought

for life itself, so precious

which by Your Son's blood was bought.

A rather poor bit of verse, but a good memory:

Once upon a time

the clothes were in the laundromat

a cup of coffee called

my friend Joe and I responded

a half hour North

to the Hitching Post we drove

for we didn't have a horse to ride

their coffee to enjoy

then following Horace G's advice

we journeyed West

at North Zulch we paused

from the lone phone booth

where two highways did cross

I asked John

my clothes to rescue

from the whirling machine

coffee at College Station

strong and black

then the sixty miles back

not destructive

as was Sherman's March

to the Ocean they called a Sea

but that was the coffee trip

that once was

long ago, once upon a time.

Death comes, quietly or not

quickly or slowly

expected

or by complete surprise

and we grieve

to do otherwise would be

to lie or deceive.

Birth, death, great mysteries

often trivially explained

ignorance abounds

long, long ago man was created

from the earth's sod

shaped, made

breathed into by Himself, God.

The miracle of a tiny baby

so fragile, so small

defies our ability to grasp

but mankind are not the body

we are each a soul

for in this way He created us

the very young, the very old.

Death comes, the body will rot

but we step from here

to there

the Psalmist says we hold His hand

and He holds ours

walking through Death's Valley

He is our friend, our strong tower.

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