I Just Need A Better Outcome

If I were more sensitive and had some tact,

If I had more sense, most of which I've lacked,

If I would just think instead of react,

I know I would enjoy a better outcome.

If I'd just control the ways that I act,

If I'd settle back and not come off half-cracked,

If I'd just trust Jesus like it says in the tract,

I'm sure I'd enjoy a better outcome.

If it's true, what I've heard, if it's really a fact,

It's possible that I've been under contract.

It's amazing that I have had such an impact.

I sure wish I could enjoy a better outcome.

If the ways I've offended were listed and tracked,

I'm sure it's incredible! (I'm sure I'd get smacked.)

I've got to reform this! I've got to have tact!

And I know I would enjoy a better outcome.

There's A Family in Residence Inside Your Nose

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

When you ask where they came from, nobody knows.

But the word is that each of them smells like a rose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

The family looks funny, and often cause woes.

They are also quite active and run like a hose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

The father's a big guy with hair on his toes.

The mother keeps tabs on green money that flows.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

The son chews green bubble gum wherever he goes.

The daughter wears shoe strings with color that glows.

It's the family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

There's a grandpa whose ear lobes are knotted and froze.

It's quite likely the grandma is froze in a pose

In the family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

Their place is quite mossy, so the son often mows.

He sometimes disappears and is found in a dose

By the family in residence inside your nose.

There's a family in residence inside your nose.

The size of their dwelling is nothing they've chose.

If a high wind comes along they'll be gone, I suppose.

Say good-bye to the family that was inside your nose.

In My Dream World Again

There once was a time when, I venture to say,

The men in my presence would all look my way.

I received many whistles, admiring my shape,

And all the pleasing glances I could not escape.

But the years have betrayed me, as often they do.

My mirror reveals a wrinkle, or two.

My backside is spreading. My front's falling down.

My body has morphed from my head to the ground.

They no longer whistle. They don't even look.

They now seek the wisdom I gleaned from a book.

The excitement of beauty is simply a ruse.

For men, it's intended to confound and confuse.

For women, it's fraudulent, fleeting, and fake.

It's so unimportant when we judiciously awake.

But, I have to admit when my girdle I wear,

And the grey and white highlights reflect from my hair,

That I rather enjoyed being ogled and sought.

It's nice to be looked at admiringly, as hot.

But, as I recall the bikinis, and such,

I realize I'm dreaming. I'm so out of touch!

I never again will be pretty or fair.

And frankly, I'm too old and too tired to care.

The Family That's Living Inside Your Cheek

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

The mother is Gertrude. The father is Zeke.

They think there's an earthquake each time you speak

For the family that's living inside your cheek.

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

The daughter wears braces and dresses so chic.

The son speaks five languages and is a geek.

It's the family that's living inside your cheek.

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

The grandma lives with them which makes the son freak.

The grandpa is weird and he thinks he's a sheik.

In the family that's living inside your cheek.

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

All the dental assistants freak out and scream, "Eke!"

As the dentists dance gaily before taking a peek

At the family that's living inside your cheek.

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

Some are quite bold, but the others are meek.

The bold ones stay up late to play hide-and-seek.

It's the family that's living inside your cheek.

There's a family that's living inside your cheek.

If they don't take their showers then they start to wreak,

And the life of the family will start to look bleak,

And there'll be no more family living inside your cheek.

The Ugly Truth

Omission, or Commission?
The quandary makes me mad
If I'm to know the difference in a sin!
The plight is sad!
The question is laid forth,
And the answer seeks escape.
But the answer can be vitrious,
Depending on its shape.

My words, spoke in truth
Could offend and so, cause harm.
But, if I seek to soothe the soul,
The answer loses its charm.
Unspoken, or not uttered
Is vacuous and dull.
I need to find reaction
To fill the dreaded lull.



Love and peace. It's settled!
No further should I seek.
If filled with Holy, Godly love
I'm kind, thoughtful and meek.
Omission or Commission?
No! It's attitude, the sin.
Oh! Lovingly we keep our peace
And cleanse our thoughts within.

The Aritifice of Subterfuge

If you think you're a scholar and know it all,

And your knowledge has no room to grow at all,

Restrain yourself. Try not to show at all.

For, respectfully, you will just blow it all.

If you tend to be vain and big headed,

And your friends call you mule and pigheaded,

Don't be obstinate now, or egg-headed.

Change it soon before it's embedded.

Most victims of pride are delirious.

They think they are wise and mysterious.

All their nonsense is trite and cinereous.

We've no need for anyone so imperious.

 

All these high and mighty are far and wide,

And their presence is hard to abide.

But, if brave, maybe I'll look inside,

And see why I am being so snide.

 

Do I think I'm a scholar and know it all?

Do I think I have no room to grow at all?

Am I tempted to brag and to show it all?

Good grief. How embarrassing to blow it all!

My Passing Need

• In idleness I heard a voice
• that softly whispered happy thoughts.
• And weakness showed it's dreadful head
• as I pondered how to make a way.
• I know that voice. It spoke before,
• and drew me to a darkened place
• where temporary glee won out,
• and I vowed to never go again.
•  
• So, in my altered state I called
• to the One I knew would overcome.
• I called His name, and then I knew,
• it's only time, and I'll be safe.
• A flutter caught my eye to see
• a lovely wisp of color fly
• across my line of vision to
• arrest my thoughts and make me smile.

        

• The wondrous beauty made me gasp.
• It cleared my mind of all around.
• The butterfly was gone at last,
• and I realized it's purpose now.
• My evil thoughts were gone,
• and now I thought of only greater things.
• My Protector had erased the slate,
• and my last word had done it all....Jesus!

THREE LITTLE FISHIES

There once was a fish in a pond

Who, quite boldly and eloquently yawned,

I'd accept being blue,

Or a gold fish would do,

But don't ever ask me to be blond.

 

As the tuna was caught in the net,

She got nervous, and started to fret.

To be cast as a salad

Makes my flesh look so pallid.

It's the cross I bear, being brunette.

 

Then, alas, we espied a bullhead,

Who lay on the bank, playing dead.

I will be what you wish.

But, remember, this fish

Opts to be just a sexy redhead.

 

Being Stupid

Unintelligent people are smart
To take their dim-wittedness to heart.
Being doltish is not what they wish.
Inferiority thoughts, they should squish.

It's a wise man who knows he is thick,
Simple-minded, and not very quick.
If a harebrained thought enters in,
It's preposterous to think it's a sin.
            

An astute person knows he is dense

And will offer no show of defense.

Better far, uninformed to admit

Than adding cuckoo to a twit.

If you're air headed, obtuse and dumb,

Idiotic can make one quite numb.

Still, the mindless can always improve

If from illiterate they can move.

 

 

But, for screwballs and wackies, take heart!

Don't be vacuous! Today, make a start!

Prove to people that zany and mad

Are the knucklehead traits to be had!

All the bubbleheads will quickly step up!

There'll be "Lunatic" T-shirts and cups.

And then nutty will be the new fad.

Celebrate! Being stupid's not bad!

In My Quiet Day

It's a still and quiet day.

I have no urge to play.

The work I have will wait

In my still and quiet state.

No outside noise comes in.

No commotion and no din.

I watch the soft sun shine.

This quietness is all mine.

Here, quietly I sup

From my favorite coffee cup.

With comfort now I look

At my favorite, holy book.

 

 

 

 

Is serenity a sin?

Should my work I now begin?

May I spend more time with You?

One more minute or two will do.

In my quietness I know

I've no happier place to go

Than to spend my day with care,

Knowing He is always there.

So, I stay in my silent state,

Thankful Jesus is my fate.

I grow quieter, more still.

Ah, yes. This is Jesus' will.

Wonderful Spring

        

 

I want to write about Spring, but it's all been said before.

I want to express this joy from within of the beauty outside my door.

I long to relate all the joys that come of watching each bud anew.

But the masters have all accomplished this art of drawing these pictures for you.

Each word that I mull is failure. Yet, I strive to be up to the task.

There's this feeling of bliss from the kiss of the rays of the sun in which I bask.

An eruption of pleasure escapes from my lips. My eyes are wet with delight.

New life brings excitement and happiness after long and cold winter nights.

The eternal beauty of Spring is the splendor of our God in each flower

Returning each year in His glory of His exquisite creation and power.

No other art can compare to His might as His beauty around the world rings.

It's joy and contentment that makes my heart shout when I ponder the wonders of Spring.

Contentment

I've learned to be happy wherever I'm at.

I don't need stimulation and fanfare.

I can breeze through a novel or stand on Times Square.

And have fun with each woman and man there.

It's a mystery to me how this all comes about,

How I easily exist every day there.

I'm always content to be where I'm at,

But I'm never content to stay there.

It's a silly conclusion that sounds quite bizarre.

Is it possible I am mistaken?

Indeed, do I never become discontent?

Do I never feel frazzled  and shaken?

How does one feel pleased with life, not needing more,

Yet determined not to wallow away there?

How is it today can be just what I want,

But tomorrow I don't want to stay there?

I grasp every tidbit of knowledge I find.

I devour each occasion around me.

I enjoy all the people. I love and I laugh,

Then let absolute silence surround me.

It's because I don't need them to fulfill my life.

I've a Savior that shows me my way there.

I'm always content to be where I'm at,

But I'm never content to stay there.