In which the poet makes protest against his Restless Legs

Oh restless legs why must you ache
When all I wish to do is sleep
Eight hours I could stand to take
But from my bed I’ve had to creep
Tomorrow is a busy day
I’ll have no chance to slumber late
Oh restlessness please go away
(Come if you must some other date)
My knees and ankles crackle snap
And like Rice Krispies also pop
I know I’ll need to take a nap
I wish this achiness would stop!
I’m tired and I need my Zzz’s
Oh restless legs stop aching please!

An ode to my nose

I must admit I really love my nose
It isn’t just a lump upon my face
It helps me when I want to smell a rose
And for my glasses is a resting place
It has two holes upon its bottom side
That let me breathe (and breathing’s good for me)
It’s not too narrow, nor is it too wide
Without my nose I don’t know where I’d be
And here’s a fact that might have you surprised –
A fact about my nose that you’ll find slick:
The holes I mentioned are both finger sized
Which makes it something that is fun to pick!
I bet that last line grossed you out. I knew it
In this poem ’bout my nose…I guess I blew it.

For NaPoWriMo… The prompt today is love sonnets

Fun Facts

fun fact: there was a knight in Arthur’s court
who always was amazed by all things new
he was quite shocked by all the martial sport
and even jumped because the sky was blue

his name has since become a household word
you know him even if you think you don’t
(this proves that etymology’s absurd) –
so please believe me (even though you won’t)

The knight I tell you of was named Sir Prized
and though I know my readers doubt this tale
the facts have all been checked and analyzed
they rank quite highly on the truth-ness scale

another fact that’s fun I have to share
I might have lied to you, so please beware!


written for the early bird prompt for NaPoWriMo 2023


I heard a man speak words that were quite true
He’d done his research and his facts were straight
And yet, it seemed his words were all askew
For as he spoke his words were filled with hate

No love no grace no mercy did I see
In what he railed against those he opposed
Perhaps he thought “the truth will set them free”
But doors he might have opened he had closed

And then I thought, “what words might I have said,
That although ‘right’ were mere self-righteousness”
If I can’t speak the truth with love instead…
And if I cannot find a way to bless…

Then I’ll be silent, for there’s nothing worse
Than truth devoid of Love which is a curse

Parables of Earth – Part IX

Those seeds that fall on fertile land will grow
much better than those which land upon weed
or rock covered ground. Would it be fair, though,
to assume this is the fault of the seed?
By no means! The seeds are all alike. They
all hold the same potential. That is why
The Farmer takes such great care in the way
He tends to His earth: He knows seeds rely
on their environment. Likewise, when we
meet those who seem to struggle in this life,
do not be quick to judge, but look and see:
can you find ways to help them through their strife?
The Farmer loves his land, and He’s aware:
Bounty will come from ground that’s worked with care


If you would like to read this cycle in its entirety (up to this point), or if you would like to read my cycles on water and fire, you can find links to those in the menu above.

Easter Sunday

The Son of God was lying in the grave
and so the Serpent bragged, “I’ve struck His heel!
For how,” he reasoned, “can a dead God save
once all the power of Hell has been revealed?”
A large stone blocked the entrance of the tomb
and those who’d followed Him would face great strife
For now, the Serpent revelled in this doom
But Grave could not hold Him who’d authored Life!
An empty place marks where his body lay
for all Death’s victories had been undone
the mighty stone was simply cast away
and brighter than the sun-rise rose The Son
For Christ, in rising, crushed the Serpent’s head
Life conquered Death, and death itself is dead

Holy Week – Saturday

Earlier in the week, I commented that my prayer this week would be that I could “dwell in the middle” of the story of Holy Week. That I would be able to ponder and contemplate the week that lead up to Christ’s execution and burial without rushing ahead to Sunday, If anything, though, captures the “middle of the story”, I think it might be Saturday – the day that falls in between when Death crushed life, and when Life crushed death (the capitalization and lack thereof in death and life in my last sentence was deliberate)

We come now to the center of it all
the day when Christ’s death started sinking in
when those who followed knew they’d seen him fall
when thoughts of Christ were thoughts of broken skin
Christ was dead, and dead, too, was their hope
and they knew that their lives were at risk too
so now they hid, not knowing how they’d cope
false seemed the only One they’d thought was true
They thought the story now was at an end
Christ’s body now was rotting in a tomb
had all His talk been truly just pretend?
such wretched agony filled them all with gloom
But now was not the ending of the play
Another act will follow the next day!

Holy Week – Thursday

I wonder what all went through the disciples’ minds at that Last Supper when Jesus, the master, took on a servant’s role and washed his disciples’ feet. I have tried to capture what might have been the thoughts of Peter.


The One who’s sandals I’m unfit to tie
has turned the tables, kneeling at my feet
with water-bowl and cloth to wash and dry
while I, who should serve Him, stay in my seat
His humble action humbles all my pride
His servitude makes me desire to serve
that Christ has let me travel at his side
is more than I, a sinner, could deserve
But when I say “Lord stop! It should be me”
with love so deep, he looks me in the eye
and says, “My child, do you still not see
I do this now to show that you are mine”
Lord let this foot-wash merely be the start
for I need You to cleanse my sinful heart

Holy Week – Wednesday

The feet of Christ were spoken of by John1
who claimed he was unworthy to unclasp
the sandals that the Holy One had on
and so when Mary2 took and broke a flask
of costly perfume over those same feet
and then went on to wipe them with her hair
some of those present didn’t waste a beat
condemning what she’d done – how could she dare?
But Christ saw value – not unworthiness
He saw her love and loved her in return
where others cursed her, Jesus deemed to bless
accepting her when others tried to spurn
Each act of love, like perfume being poured
becomes a fragrant off’ring to the Lord


1 – John the Baptist
2 – Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus


My poems and thoughts this week have been largely inspired by “The Pilgrim Year: Holy Week” devotional book by Steve Bell (can be purchased from, as well as the poetry of Malcolm Guite’s book “Sounding the Seasons”, which I believe is available on Amazon. Malcolm has also been posting his poems on his blog, where you can also listen to him reading them ( If you are not familiar with this poet, he is well worth the read/listen. He has a depth to his poetry that often leaves me speechless.

Holy Week – Tuesday

When the people in Jerusalem had shouted out their “hosannahs” when Jesus rode into Jerusalem, they were hoping that they had found a king to vanquish the occupying Romans. Here was a man who would finally turn the tables! How right they were. How wrong they were! Jesus would indeed “turn the tables”, but not in the way that the people were expecting!


They saw him come upon a donkey’s colt
and thought he’d come to claim an earthly crown
he’d lead them at long-last in a revolt
and kick the Roman army out of town

“He’ll turn the tables now” is what they thought
“and in that he will have our full support”
They thought that Rome would be his target…not
the money changers in the Temple court

But Christ had come to clear a path to God
and Rome was not the hindrance that he saw:
but those who’d turned religion into fraud
who’d cheat the poor in favour of “the law”

Come, Jesus! Turn the tables in my heart
that I might truly know how Great Thou Art!


Yes, Jesus turned the tables…but against his own people where they made mockery of what relationship with God should be. I hope that I captured some of that in my sonnet. The final couplet of the sonnet is my prayer that God would reveal to me those areas of my life where I have put obstacles in the way of having a true relationship with him…and being human, I know that I will always have those obstacles (until I meet with him in glory!)…but I desire that God would overturn those tables, so that I will be able to draw ever closer to Him!