Chiaroscuro (Tell His Story)

 So why on earth do we write,

what do we need to say?

Do we let our dreams take flight,

or do we find a way 

to hold for others open doors

through which we have gone,

that we may share the reservoirs 

of faith that we depended on

to see bright blessings in the places

that are darkened with our pain,

and in them see the offered graces

like rainbows past the rain,

and find in the mixed light and shadow 

our life in Christ, chiaroscuro.

Sylvia doesn't know what that last word is, but if it's an ice cream flavour, she's game.

If you want some really good recipes, please drop by and visit my friends Pam and Tony, at the Som-Tin-Ta Eat food truck blog.

You can also find them on Facebook.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

God's Drunken Sailor

The whole cancer thing has gotten so hard now that I just want to have some fun.

The drunken sailor comes to church 

with beery fumes and cheery smile.

Sit back, my friends, and watch him lurch 

right down the communion aisle.

In Catholic places he'd get wine,

not a lot, enough to love,

and that would leave him feeling fine,

praising the priest and God above,

but elsewhere grape juice is the thing

(did not Jesus, though, make wine from water?),

and digging deep he's gotta bring 

the thinking that he maybe oughter

respect the ones who teetotal;

what they don't drink makes his mug full.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is INVEST.

Everything is going south,

and I've long been on the run,

but I ain't gonna shut my mouth,

and singing, will invest in fun.

Not because elsewise I'd weep,

there are no tears here of a clown.

No, my joy is mine to keep,

and dying doesn't get me down

because the days are fully blessed 

if I have the wit to see,

and seeing is to pass the test

and go to where I'd rather be,

in a place of joyous dance

which is survival's bestest chance.

If you want some really good recipes, please drop by and visit my friends Pam and Tony, at the Som-Tin-Ta Eat food truck blog.

You can also find them on Facebook.

Sylvia has stolen a full beer can or three. Ice cream is better. Sometimes.

A Punderful Post (Tell His Story)

 My body says I'm past my prime;

I tell myself it doesn't matter 

that I've run me out of time

and dreams now fall away and shatter.

There's not enough of blood to flow,

much is lost in wasted care,

but truly I  don't want to go

to what fell fate is waiting there,

and so I push in mindless glee

to make the best of what I've got,

pretend I still have energy

and prove that I really am not

wearing that Cleopatra smile,

yes, that's her, Queen of de Nile.

Sylvia, don't roll your eyes like that. They'll get stuck.

If you want some really good recipes, please drop by and visit my friends Pam and Tony, at the Som-Tin-Ta Eat food truck blog.

You can also find them on Facebook.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Kung Fool

Tashka' likes to hang out under the deck on the south side of the house. It's a good place to watch traffic and passing cows.

Unfortunately, the south deck is where I used to empty water from the clothes washer (it's an apartment-sized unit, and hooking the outlet to the drain isn practical for a number of reasons).

The buckets I pitched were never close to Tashka', but he was offended nonetheless, as you can see from his expression, having taken refuge by a large dog house.

I'm not in the mood to write about coping with cancer today. I'd rather have fun.

Yes, I am a Chinaman,

and Asians are cool.

When things in life don't follow plan,

I go all Kung Fool,

head-high kicking 'round about,

chopping each direction,

and then I give a mighty shout

with Mandarin inflection.

The canines all look quite perplexed,

and Barb just rolls each eye,

wondering what I will do next,

and asking God on high

just why did He play the trick

of sending her this lunatic.

And, of course, there's music to be had.

If you want some really good recipes, please drop by and visit my friends Pam and Tony, at the Som-Tin-Ta Eat food truck blog.

You can also find them on Facebook.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is PROVE.

A Chinaman has naught to prove

in the fractured warring west,

and I don't care if you approve 

or not, for I have passed the test 

of seeing people of faith passing 

me along the road of life,

and I can now refrain from classing

them, to set in plan a strife.

No, I will just let them live

and travel onward with my prayers.

Each of us has much to give

to a world so full of cares

that even whose beliefs seem odd

may nonetheless be serving God.

Sylvia says that if I pour Kung Pao sauce over her ice cream, I'm in real trouble.

Heaven's Menu (Tell His Story)

 Today I'd like to introduce our wonderful neighbours, Pam and Tony, and their GOURMET food truck, Som-Tin-Ta Eat.

Not only are they terrific people and their kind of Christians I hope to be someday, but their cooking is epic. From pulled pork to grilled cheese to quesadillas...not to mention the world's best tortilla chips...they offer a culinary slice of Heaven.

If you don't live near Belen, New Mexico, I pity you.

BUT Pam has started a blog, and contained within the inaugural post is her recipe for pulled pork sandwiches.

Click HERE, and prepare to be swept

 away!

Pam and Tony can also be found on Facebook.

Sylvia asks, Please share!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Ode To My Wife

 This is Henry the Deaf Pit Bull, helping me collect Barb's laundry. Goldie the Cat is just visible under his belly. They're pals.

I don't think you will ever know 

just what you mean to me,

for every day the feelings grow

'bout how you set me free

from the squalor of my birth,

from the early years of woe...

it was you who taught me worth,

and that in faith I'd go

down a road not steeped in death,

nor IEDs at every turn;

that in God's grace I'd take a breath

and every day I'd learn

of the Christ Who died that I 

would never have the need to cry.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is MIGHT.

I wished one day that I might 

find a gal that I could stand,

one with keen and steady sight

and a skilled and able hand

who could fix a broken door 

and then splint a broken leg.

I would have asked God for more,

but I didn't want to beg

for a warm and caring heart,

and a smile to melt my own,

digestion that would never fart,

and who'd let me use her phone

to call Heaven and give praise 

for her all through all my days.

Syl figures that she shares in this. But ice cream does give her gas 

A Prayer For The Living (Tell His Story)

 Where have all the good days gone,

the days of health, the days of strength?

Every day now, 'fore the dawn,

I know there will be pain at length,

but I cannot turn from my task

to hold genuinely to a smile,

so this, my Lord, is all I ask,

that You hold me all the while

my body fades and wastes away,

through the endless aching night

and through the challenge of the day

that I remain, and that I might 

pass on the blessings I've received 

to the ones in greater need.

Syl suggests I not pass on my ice cream.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter