by Dolores Fruth
We have all gone to a PICNIC.
It keeps me in suspense,
Where did this outing get its name?
It doesn’t make much sense.
According to the dictionary
The pique is a French derision
A tiny little piece of food
Is part of the definition.
The nicue was added just to rhyme
To make it debonair.
And so we take our bits of food
Outside ,where we can share.
Each one brings something to the feast
As we gather there together.
It is such fun to greet each one
No matter what the weather.
Yum, Yum we look for hotdogs.
Corn and beans are there.
Potato salad and watermelon
Will now round out the fare.
But most of all the fellowship
Of friends and family.
Define the meaning of the word.
And what PICNIC means to me.
My Passavant Mansion
By Dolores Fruth
I live in a beautiful mansion,
With a quaint little town in my view.
I’m surrounded by gardens and fountains
And a soothing waterfall too.
Come inside to my awesome foyer
And enjoy all the wonders there.
There are spaces for games and fitness
And a library beyond compare.
A chapel with stained glass windows
Is within the walls of my home.
A staff is here to attend me.
Just why would I ever roam?
My meals are cooked by others
And served so graciously.
I have a nurse at my command
Who takes good care of me.
My huge entertainment center
Is another delightful space.
For banquets, movies or some fun
This room is just the place.
Come visit me in my mansion.
And see all the wonders there.
This is truly retirement living.
At a place I’m willing to share.
A Summertime Dance
The sheets on the line dance in the breeze.
Memories evolve with images like these.
I’m back in my childhood on a warm summer day.
The clothes pins hold tight to their glimmering prey.
I turn on the sprinklers to get some relief.
They suddenly capture the towel and the sheet.
The clothes shed their tears for now they are wet.
I turn off the sprinklers and voice my regret.
But soon I see dancing again on the line.
The sun with it’s magic appears right on time.
I lie back and relax to catch the romance
Of the sheets and the towels in their beautiful dance!
My Jar of Clay
Within a simple jar of clay
There is a treasure hiding.
It is my beating heart you hear
Where grace is now abiding.
God gave this awesome gift to me
When I first heard His call.
My heart was full of ugliness
I had no hope at all.
God took the jar within His hands
And emptied out the sin.
He filled it then with peace and love
And made it shine within.
So now my simple jar of clay
Is a gift beyond my measure,
For God has washed away the guile
And given me this treasure
2 Corinthians 4:7 “We have this treasure
in clay jars, so that it may be made clear
that this extraordinary power belongs to
God and does not come from us.”
Teardrops brush my windowpane
The objects of the world outside
The rain is also falling
On the window of my heart
Since we have had to part.
Raindrops and tears together
They cleanse within
and then without
My grief soaked heart is mending.