The beauty of Christmas is in her eyes,Sparkling and twinkling and saucer-sized. The love of Christmas is in her heart,Laughing and giggling with kind remarks. The joy of people, on this special day,Who honor the Savior and His true Way, Warming hearts of man, woman, and child,All grievances reconciled. Step up, young men! Be strong in your Faith!'Tis the Creator who put Christmas on your plate.But it's your true love's...

My wife is still in bed as I close the door behind me and leave her to peaceful slumber for a while longer. It's 7:45 AM and I'm late. I jump in the truck with my roll-around briefcase and pull out the driveway headed for work. My mind flashes on the fact that I don't have my glasses on. I know that I don't need them to drive and I can wear my reading glasses at work but still... Less than 100 feet from the end of the dri...

(The Prophet) There’s work to be done in this world, but it’s not work for boys or girls. Where once there were people of a great and mighty nation, Now all I see is a slave generation. A Slave Generation. Slave to your phone, to the drugs you rejoice, slave to the music, it’s all your choice.   (The Populace) But I don’t need work done in my world, Work isn’t needed for boys or girls, Where once there were people of mora...

At zero four thirty the men aroseTo put on their warmest clothes, Thermals and woolens, boots laced tight,They venture into the dark of night. Orange and plaids, worn on First Day,Protect these men in a visual way. Protein bars and thermos containers,One empty bottle, all no-brainers. Rifle and ammo fully secured;Men trod silently, never speaking a word. They climb inside each hidden space;Looking for sign; cold on face....

The transition is almost complete. I can feel it. Soon I'll be adjusted to my new age. It's been a difficult three years. I fought against it. A good fight; but I've run out of weapons. I'm adjusting quickly to the occupying forces. Of elderly forces. Of lesser capacity and capabilities. Of accepting the fact that there are more memories in my past than are possible for me to create in the future. The future is not hopele...

In an earlier life, a woman once remarked to me that it was good to meet a man who was proud enough of his name to write it so others could read it. I don’t know if she was flirting or not but, as you can see, I remember her telling me this. Last Friday while being introduced to a woman, she shook my hand more firmly than I anticipated. Then she held my hand with both of hers and said, "Oh, my. Big hands."  I don't know i...

The line at the funeral parlor led out the front door, around the side, and down the street for three blocks and was composed primarily of men who had come to pay their respects. The civilian men wore a white shirt, dark jacket, dark pants, and a white name tag that read either First or Last. The military and ex-military wore their uniforms; they honored Shyloh with the same white name tag neatly affixed to cover all the...

Sometimes one hesitates to tell a personal story because it exposes the authenticity of a person. If you’re a member of my family, or a colleague of mine, you’ve heard me tell parts of this story in person. You’ll know my secret identity when you read this and you’ll hold secrets to my other stories that my pseudonym disguises. And I will not know who you are and that’s unsettling to me. Makes me nervous. (Leap of faith n...

I lit the J between my lips and sucked its smoke deep into my fifty-year-old lungs. I held my breath and let it coat me inside. I sucked in more air to expand them further; to expose more tissue to the smoke. The deep recesses expand and then extract what they can before I blow the cleansed smoke out my nose. I never let my weed simply leave my mouth. No sense letting good shit escape into the air. I didn’t know the chick...

Grandpa awoke with tears in his eyes. He knew something was wrong and it saddened him. He sucked air through the nose mask. The CPAP machine hissed. The air that did not go into his lungs escaped through the tiny holes at the junction of the air tube and the mask. "Shhhh." The forced air hissed at him to be silent. The positive air pressure breathed with Grandpa and prevented him from snoring but it could not prevent his...

Old grumpy men sit on their rear ends and moan about the days gone by, While we see the stars and visit bars and curse politicians who lie. Old grumpy women sit and portend about people who walk by While we find delights, enjoy the nights, and lament the ones who die.   Men and Women, same coin but different sides, Flip it in the air and call it while it's high.   Middle-aged achiever, a regular eager beaver, never bemoan...

She doesn’t know how to save me, And I am so afraid, That my delusional iniquity, Has wages that can’t be paid.   The wages of sin are death I’m told, But I fear that I won’t die, For my sin as I grow old, Is wrapping my truth around a lie.   I said that I was faithful, When in truth I was not, I was faithful to myself, It was my wife that I forgot.   Now it’s a dilemma, Surpassing all decent bounds, I stand here confessi...

Spires of Holiness Burst beams through clouds Crisp air Refreshes my Soul   Harps and Lyres Gruntled melody through din Tympanic sound Refreshes my Soul   Incense and myrrh Invigorated scents through smoke Melded aromas Refreshes my Soul   Chocolate and peppermint Indulgence through sharpness Combining flavors Refreshes my Soul   Corduroy and suede Roughed through processes Textured fabric Refreshes my Soul    

In which I imagine these could be the lyrics of my first country and western song. Enjoy, please!   There’s no kisses with the dishes anymore, No hugs when I am mopping up the floor, She has no feeling for me anymore down below, I feel married to my sister, don’t ya know.   There’s no kisses with the dishes anymore, Quoth the Raven in the story ‘Nevermore’, There’s no flirting, so it is hurting my ego, There’s no teasin’...

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