She refused the proffered gift of a dead bee.
It may have been indeed, propinquity.
He left the sugared drink, in favor of tea.
It must have been the bioavailability.
Sometimes writers think they need to cuss.
I think: a simple case of mumsimus.
Her perfect pitch, to the choir was supplemental.
Strange, because she was so occidental.
She showed me how to make her sauerkraut.
What years of fermented dreams were all about.
They taught me all the perils of unbelief.
When I grew up to be good-oh such relief.
The offer of a friendship met deaf ears and cold reception.
To a lesser person, ‘twould result in sure defection.
My scratchy eyes are due to saving daylight;
I tried to sleep more to avoid the strain.
It hasn’t helped and I don’t really look right;
I’ve missed – with grease and coffee – now a stain.
I get this clumsy way when morning’s early;
groping for the coffee in the dark.
Better not to talk, so I’m not surly.
and my tripping on the dog will make him bark.
I think I’ll miss that hour until the autumn,
when we are supposed to get it back.
Up coming day length definitely will help some,
and summer sun will put red eyes on track.
The rich man was not damned because of wealth,
nor was Lazarus’ lack of it his choice.
That Dives gained his money and power by stealth
and did not listen to poor Lazarus’ voice.
His comfort and enjoyment was in life,
all striving for himself and for his vice.
Sadly, all that Lazarus saw was strife,
though after his short life was paradise.
The rich man was a sorry, stingy man,
and would not help the one whose life was grim.
He simply didn’t do those things he can
to help the ones more vulnerable than him.
This tale (or real life story, not sure which)
is not about us being rich or poor;
but rather what we do with what we have,
and what kind of treasure that you store.
He will be gracious to me when
The voice of my cry hears.
He says that He will answer me then,
and not wait for years.
And though adversity’s my bread
and water of affliction.
Yet teachers shall not be removed;
My eyes shall see conviction.
My ears can hear the words behind me:
“Here’s the way walk in it.
Right or left hand you will be
led rightly”. I’ll submit it.
Distill all of my motives Lord
and bring me forth as gold.
On my own it is too hard,
I want Christ as my mold.
©2007 P. Johnson
In Noah’s day, God’s mercy took a pause;
while judgement then took over His just cause.
Lot’s brethren, that were righteous…there were none.
including his salt-wife…the wistful one.
Nadab and Abihu were burned ‘til dead.
They had not done the way that God had said.
Jonah was dragged way down into the sea,
‘til he gave in and asked for clemency.
Sampson repented but both eyes gone, still,
and his life ended as he did God’s will.
Israel was exiled after years of warning,
for 70 years reproach, before returning.
The prophecy of Eve, fulfilled in time,
to Mary: fearful, obedient, sublime,
Those ancient lessons teach, though some conversely,
Judgment doesn’t triumph but rather- Mercy.
How much coffee does it take
to, during church keep me awake?
I thought that I had had enough,
to open keep my eyes
I’m pretty sure that that is where
the whole defiency lies…
©Pam Johnson 2011
I’m not on the same page as you
but, I might agree.
I don’t want to catch your drift
yet I might see.
My mind will not be boggled
but I may
need just a minute to adjust
to what you say.
Do not say this to say that,
I’ll close my eyes….
You can’t get right to your point
I will surmise.
My heart won’t be on my sleeve-
it goes inside,
where it functions best,
the lungs beside.
And while I may indeed be
out of my comfort zone,
I’d rather just be an uncomfortable
that is my own.
And if you’ve been there, done that
your lack of original sayings
are like crimes.
But before you claim that
we won’t even go there,
I’ll have stopped listening and with you-
won’t go anywhere.
Please say what you mean,
so I can stop with this tedious
We pray, for our dear children, the best things
the decisions they will make and how they’ll fare,
since you tell us in your Word you really care,
and while we wait please hide us in your wings.
We want those set safe places that are lasting
that seem in future to be a sure net
and secure our attitude, that doesn’t fret.
Our fearful hope’s a little too contrasting.
But hope that’s seen, it really isn’t hope.
Our prayers would cease because we had our way,
or the fervency would die and so would scope
and sequence of our spiritual life turn fey.
We’d get up off our sore knees and turn shallow,
reversing saintliness to become callow.
Glorious jewel studded crosses keep
reminding some, of something deep
What He gave or what we get?
Do we think that it’s well met?
with how the Savior really died
on gilded cross? No. They lied.
The heavy, rough, degrading, crude and lowly,
that caused committed criminals to walk slowly,
with the object of their punishment, it gave
deep slivers whether cowardly or brave.
ex crux. Out of the cross. Excruciation.
by the King, the Lord of all creation,
who refused to deaden His suffering and pain
with vinegar and gall, while being slain.
Can we remember truly then
without the gilded icon’s ken?
We take the vinegar and the gall
because to guilt, we are in thrall.
Unless we believe in the truth;
that ancient promise, from Earth’s youth.
We walk in parallel in the same places.
We work and pay our bills all with same faces.
The battleground has lots of playground toys
deceiving many grown up girls and boys.
This system of spotted-ness and decay
Could fool us into living just that way.
But while we walk this earth we shun this world
we take good care of one, avoid the last.
We must be sure we know what is our cause;
to love our Savior and to Him, hold fast.
He brought us out with love to bring us in
to give us all the strength to avoid sin.
We need each other’s strength as synergy.
Also each other’s prayers, and then may we,
Regard each other, than our self more high,
encouraging, and hearing others’ cry.