The Big Bird and the Little Bird

Big bird cawing in a tree,

Big bird calling look at me,

Simply must appreciate-

I am so big; so I’m so great.

L'il bird is also chirping,

“This my home you’re not usurping”,

Keeps on hopping twig to twiggy

“Yes, you’re large, but that’s no biggie”.

Big bird says, “You are too little”,

“Visit you at your committal!”

“I am here, this is my tree,”

“If you don’t go you’re history!”

Little bird he chirps quite quickly,

“Why must you be so darn prickly”,

“I will not cry, I will not pout”,

“You’ll never, ever run me out”.

Big bird is not overjoyed,

Big bird starts to get annoyed,

“If I catch you; little twerp”,

“Twill be the end, you’ll cease to chirp!”

Little bird he chirps all day,

The big bird finally flies away,

So if you are a little bird,

Just keep on chirping; you’ll be heard!

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 27, 2012

A Fire Within

Flames flicker,

But, it’s the luminescence

Deep within the embers

The fire glow which illuminates your face,

And your soft, subtle smile,

Igniting my soul.

Hearts ablaze,

Warmed by the fire,

And warmer still within your embrace,

Rapture within,

Reaching upward, outward,

And, kindled by the mystery of desire.

Still burning,

Even in the afterglow,

Translucent reds; iridescent yellows,

Dancing in your eyes,

  Tender glances; gazing-

  at a fire within.

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 26, 2012

Safe in the Storm

Rain rippled reflection of a streetlight lamp,

Black sky emblazed by the lightening’s flare,

Bright breeze encumbers each nestled camp,

All are awakened by the storm’s captive air.

Sweet toddler cuddling in his mother’s arms,

While she keeps rocking the baby will sleep,

Soft voices whisper; it has all the charms-

To keep babe from trembling safe in her keep.

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 23, 2012

Mr. Rumblediggiedog's Machine

Mr. Rumblediggiedog found a cool machine,

The only thing it did was make a sound that that said, “Ka-chEEn!”

Ka-chEEn, Ka-chEEn, Ka-chEEn, Ka-chEEn, Ka-chEEn, Ka-chEEn,

You started up the engine it would rattle then, Ka-chEEn!

The first time Rumblediggiedog encountered this machine,

He spotted it on Internet, and man, did it look keen,

He shouted to his wife, and by the way her name was “Jean”,

“I found this thing on e-bay, and this thing it says, “Ka-chEEn”!

Mrs. Rumblediggiedog said, “Oh, what do you mean?”

“Why should we spend our money on a thing that says, ‘Ka-chEEn’?”

“I don’t want you to feel bad, I never would demean,”

“But this machine, it does look sad, it’s awkwardly obscene!”

“Oh no!” he cried, “It must be mine, this marvelous machine,”

“It is your favorite color, Dear, a lovely Shamrock Green,”

“I’ll find some rags, and bubbly soap to make it very clean,”

“I’ll polish and I’ll buff it well until it looks pristine!”

Mrs. Rumblediggiedog she said, “I like it, Dean!”

“The color it is perfect, like a freshly gardened bean,”

“And, if you buff up every bolt, and belt, and in between,”

Then this machine that says, “Ka-chEEn’”, will have a shiny sheen!”

Said Mrs. Rumblediggiedog, “I will not intervene,”

“If you would like to buy this green machine that says, ‘Ka-chEEn’’”,

“At party times we'll place it by our silver soup tureen,”

“Our guests may all admire our machine that goes, ‘Ka-chEEn!’”

So Mr. Rumblediggiedog he bought that fine machine,

He takes it everywhere he goes; it always makes the scene,

One year they went to England and they showed it to the Queen,

And she said, “Wow-de-dowdy-dow, this thing it says, ‘Ka-chEEn!’”

Now Mr. Rumblediggiedog will paint his great machine,

A sparkly red for Christmas and all orange on Halloween,

And at the height of fame it was on every movie screen,

Now round the world one look at it; all people shout, “Ka-chEEn!’”

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 22, 2012

Nighttime Poem (Counting Stars)

Every twinkling star tonight,

Let’s count before I say goodnight,

The brightest ones that I can see,

Let's count them now, there’s one, two three.

Of all the stars, my favorite picks,

I’ll point them out, there’s four, five six,

And those up there are in a line,

You see them now; it’s seven, eight nine.

Now I must go and lay my head-

Upon my pillow in my bed,

Tomorrow night we’ll count again,

Before I go there’s number ten.

So now I’ll say “Goodnight”, to you,

I'd love a hug and a kiss too,

For while I sleep I’ll drift afar,

And, dream of every twinkling star!

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 20, 2012

(Dedicated to Sleepy Grandkids)

Winter Scene

Wild weeds shiver in a frozen wood,

Black birds soar near the place where I stood,

Millions of snowflakes free fall here and there-

In aimless direction they float on the air.

Barren trees keep vigil on a rolling hill,

Brisk breeze is blowing yet the earth is still,

Blacks, browns and greys are all covered in white,

And all wrapped with beauty on a wintry night.

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 14, 2012

Little Vermin

Little vermin in the house,

Little bugs or tiny mouse,

Skitter, skitter to and fro,

Oh, my wife she hates them so.

It’s my job, I am the man,

Didn’t know that was God’s plan,

Haven’t found a Bible verse,

Matters not, it is my curse.

One that she just does abhor,

Big ol’ cockroach on the floor,

I come down to get the spray,

“Please, just make them go away!”

I hear her scream, I have some sighs,

A little nose, two beady eyes,

A crack up by the fireplace,

I look and see a mouse’s face.

Buy a trap or maybe two,

Some have snaps, and some have glue,

If I can’t make them go, “Bye, bye”,

The Orkin man, he is my guy.

If roach, or mouse, or wasp or ant,

Gives her creeps, or makes her pant,

To get a kiss and many hugs,

Just kill a mouse or a few bugs.

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 9, 2012

Dear Men of God

Oh wonder of the unbound world we search beyond the sky,
For more than simple answers to the how; we wish the why,
We love the blues, the reds and every color in between,
Yet in the misty midst of all there is a grand unseen.

Oh wonder of the men of God, who live upon the earth,

Pure touched; you’ve lived within a spirit realm from day of birth,
With gentle caring souls possessed you pressed on every day,
To teach us all; remind us all of Love in all you say,

Oh wonder of the power of Love when lived by men of God,

A transformation seen in those you serve as forth they trod,
Sometimes we fail, have fallen short when hearts have suffered loss,
But, all can be restored again when laid before the Cross.

Oh wonder of the Living Cross a Savior has been born,

Jesus the Christ he came to save the lonely, lost forlorn,
Dear men of God have searched the unbound world and seen the Son,
And victory beyond the grave; in faith the battle won.

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 7, 2012

Passion

Love inexplicable,
Total surrender of self for the other,
And all returned,
Unashamed and shameless,
Wanting and needing,
A bond and binding,
Hands touching,
Face to face,
Lips pressed,
Eyes closed, and opened at times -
To wordlessly and breathlessly say, “It’s you, it’s you I love!”
A want to devour, yet not destroy,
To be joined and more,
As if to be one,
Enveloped within the other.
 
Peter Lowell Paulson
January 7, 2012