The New Year

The New Year

 

I celebrate life,

Prayers for those who cling to life,

The older I become,

Less numb, to those afflicted,

They are my contemporaries,

My adversaries,

Become less adversary,

More friends,

I wish to love more,

This year,

I wish to pray more,

This year,

I wish to give more,

This year,

I wish to change-

Wishes to realities,

Whether you are a believer,

Or non-believer,

(And, if a non-believer I could rattle your cage)

But, we ALL believe,

In what Jesus believed,

And, He believed in,

LOVE!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

January 1, 2014

Imagine Red

 

Imagine Red

 

It’s always red,

Our evening walks by rivers edge,

A softer red upon the water,

Ripples turn the reds to rose

And as the sunset grows,

Full glory fills the sky,

A blaze of ruby reds-

Amidst black onyx clouds,

Wild ebony below,

Spikes of grasses, and treed horizons-

Pierce the sanguine sky,

And, you and I are home,

Passionate red,

Hearts aflame,

Imagine Red,

Tonight,

My Love.

 Peter Lowell Paulson

December 31, 2013



Grandparent and Grandchild

 

Grandparent and Grandchild

A baby girl in fur,

Not fur, really,

A Santa’s red cap and the white cotton fluffy roll,

She has made it into the world of cute,

She may be the next president of the country,

Or any company,

Who cares at this moment?

Because, right now, cute applies,

A baby boy his toes engaging a step-

Too soon maybe,

One soft drop,

A plop upon a diapered bottom,

And, claps and cheers from his parents,

Grandparents travel miles,

To see these little smiles,

The little wins,

A development,

A trial shared,

The soft and tender hugs,

The cries of despair when nighttime nears,

The laughter shared,

“Grandpa and Grandma have to go ‘nigh-night’, too!”

Each grandchild smiles,

They know that on some level,

Grandparent and grandchild are equals.

Smile!

 Peter Lowell Paulson

December 29, 2013

Heaven

 

As I awoke my head above the foam,

My arms all flailing; terrified and scared,

My Grandpa took my hand, and his eyes glared,

“You’re safe with me, and I will take you home.”

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 18, 2013



 

You

Yes, you,

I married you,

You married me,

Fun as kids, and we were kids,

Walks down to the pond,

Walks on every country lane,

Talking, talking, talking,

We’ve never stopped talking,

Even though you are quiet,

You talk a lot to me,

That always makes me smile,

About Everything, God and Universe,

Biology, Chemistry,

Mathematics, Piano, Cinema, and Us,

Naughty stuff, of course,

Drawn within, important, but for us only,

Children, Two Boys, a Girl,

A tree of life

Continued,

Merry Christmas!

I love you,

Sweetheart!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 17, 2013



 

Remember this beyond all else

 

Remember this beyond all else,

We know little else beyond what we are told,

Or what we read, and experience,

Small slights; and big slights,

Waves and breakers

Alter courses of our little boats,

Capsized and drowning,

Picked up (Hopefully),

By the big steamers,

Going in opposite directions,

And, I hope to God,

Like Earth,

It is a BIG circle,

Then we will,

One day,

Collide into the same conclusion…

Serious and sober,

Comical and farcical,

Combined into a wondrous,

Peace.

Until then that point must be God,

My hope is that the answer is not nothing (‘anything’, as Mrs. Wright would say),

And, Mrs. Wright WAS always right,

A double negative by anyone’s definition is wrong,

So God,

So GOD,

And, for now,

I thank you God!
 

 Peter Lowell Paulson

December 16, 2013

 

PS  Mrs. Marcia Wright was my English Literature teacher in High School.  She taught all of us to write correctly.  She would give us a quiz every day on our assignment from the previous day.  She would give us an “F” on our written test in we ever put a comma in the wrong place.  I received an “A” in both semesters!  Mrs. Wright is a friend to this day!

Old Santa brought a bag of goodies to the kids at church,

The pastor brought perspective about St. Nick and our search-

For the Christ child received such gifts from three kings wandering,

Their modern day, our prophecy; about a foretold King.

 

Today no one has touched the hem of Him who leads us now,

Our Christmas tree the ornaments and lights before Him bow,

Round ornaments upon the tree remind us of the earth,

And, of the love of God and Christ who loved us from his birth.

 

Each string of lights; these star-like lights from tree top to the base,

Will draw us in to lose our sin, and former life erase,

Yet, at the very top an angel or a star we see,

Just pray this Christmas to our Christ; forgiveness you will see.

 

 We are the creatures here on earth; we try to be profound,

All reason and all logic leave us on unsettled ground,

ear Christ, who wrote the book of love please capture us once more,

With strength of mind and heart and soul to Heaven we will soar!

 

 

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 16, 2013



Christmas Snow

Oh, it’s alright to say (I know),

I love to see a Christmas snow,

One holiday a glorious white,

A Christ was born to bring this light.

On every branch in forest dark,

Most green leaves gone; so drear and stark,

Midwinter snows; all natures strives,

Burst forth the BEST hope in our lives!

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 14, 2013

My Best Christmas 
 

My best Christmas,

My Uncle and Aunt,

Uncle Charlie and Aunt Marian,

Drew me,

And, I am forever drawn to them,

They gave me,

One Hundred games,

Three boards,

Checkers,

Chess,

Parcheesi,

Road Races,

Dices,

Little playing pieces,

Three boards,

Reversible,

Wow!

“Come play one game with me”,

Like a child,

Uncle Charlie did,

One game,

Two games,

Three games and more!

“How do you play checkers?”

“How do you play Chess?”

Uncle Charlie, said, “The Castle goes on the end,”

“The pawn moves forward one square,”

And, Mom and Dad say,

“It’s time for bed”,

To this day,

I love my Uncle Charlie,

At Christmastime!

And, for a Life time!
 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 9, 2013

All Life is Supposition

All Life is Supposition

 

 

 All life is supposition in our mind,

We are drawn in two directions,

Both are faith driven,

One side believes…

Oh wait,

That it is not,

But, it is,

Science finds sources for healing,

But, it is the body that heals,

But, who or what directs the healing,

Beyond the medicament,

Is it you?

Is it me?

Chance,

God,

In the end,

We don’t get to choose,

That is the tough spot for both sides,

And, yet,

Purpose,

Meaning,

Love,

Is not random,

It is intelligent,

Beyond Human,

It is God.

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 8, 2013

 

Holiday Tree 

Each “holiday” tree that will carry a star,

Reminds us again of babe born afar,

If this poem makes them throw every star off the tree,

Then each twinkling bright light is the star that we see! 

If the “lights” turn them off, and they rip them off clean,

And, get down to the branches so barren and green,

Then as light is reflected, and every leaf gleams,

Oh, we see the bright star, and the one who redeems! 

You can’t make us run, No, you can’t make us hide,

We were dragged before lions as food for the pride,

The depth of the star that shined long, long ago,

A truth made for you, and a truth you could know! 

Peter Lowell Paulson

December 2, 2013



 

 

Thanksgiving

 

Children running everywhere,

Wrap them up,

Tap the spirit,

Try roping the clouds,

Thanksgiving…living,

Where we are,

People of every age,

Gather this day,

To give thanks,

When families gather,

Acorns do not fall far from the tree,

When families gather acorns,

 Do not fall far from the tree,

Thanksgiving erases commas,

Thanksgiving embraces:

God,

Love,

Thanks for everything!

Harvest and abundance,

Family,

And, community!

Thanks be to God!

Thanks are to God!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 26, 2013

 

e.e. cummings I love you

e.e. cummings I love you

you are the best

yah, you are!

my mom loved you, and so did I

why?

you were more feeling

than direction

you were more life

than style

i really like that

Even though I have styled this
poem

thanks!

 my poem buddy!


Peter Lowell Paulson
November 22, 2013

 

Sweet November Days

 

Sweet November days colder than the rest,
Colors in our eyes; reds and orange the best,
We walk this autumn field in early older age,
Your tender hand in mine is scripted on each page.

 

The future is so bright with colors bursting forth,
Within this life of hope; I think its pointing north!
I thank the Lord above for all that He has giv’n,
For springtime flowers bright, and winter white snow driv’n,

 

Where ever life may lead the autumn comes to all,
The urban; country roads see colored leaves of fall,
Just find a finer friend and grab them by the hand,
And, guide them to the world, with red and orange so grand!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 20, 2013


 

Imagination (A Poem for the Grandkids)

You can find imagination, said the little elf,
It’s in a book just climb the ladder on the latter shelf,
Just brush away the cobwebs, and the layers of dusty, dust,
Now reach your hand back to the tome in all the musty must.

And in midst of every page what mystery you’ll find,
The days of blustery pirates and the loot of every kind,
They’ll blast their fiery cannonades into the southern skies
The mermaids will all congregate before your very eyes.

Then sail away we’ll travel to a dry and desert land,
Where sultans buried with their treasure in a tomb of sand,
With goblets, plates and coins of gold, fine emeralds, rubies, too,
Reflected in the diamonds, and sapphires, oh so blue!

Oh, finally to the northern woods where Thor and Odin roam,
Where raw and strong live here amongst the weathered troll and gnome,
And, Viking ship on cold North Sea seeks treasure for their trust,
The elf says it’s all in the tome in layers of musty dust!

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 14, 2013

Moses

Moses

 

It was your golden eyes my feline friend,
As clear as a mountain brook,
Your look,
Was piercing!
Intelligent, and knowing,
You knew me,
And yet you loved me, too!
What a friend,
To everyone!
Grandkids, and other kittens,
You were a room “mother”,
A diplomat,
An example of, “If you don’t like cats, then there is ME!”
I will dispel the rumor,
Make a movie, and call it, “Moses the Cat”’
I had:
Soft sable fur,
I was:
Pet-able, amiable,
And, yet still a boy,
A grey tiger,
Striped like one, too!
Oh, silver tabby,
Monster at twenty-two pounds,
How still you were this morning,
Through tears I saw that you had drifted away in our sleep,
We laid you in the garden not far from the house,
There will be tears, like now,
But, mostly smiles and laughter,
In remembering,
The turn of your head,
The look of discern,
With no concern,
In your golden eyes!
I love you, Moses!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 11, 2013

the Empty Chair

 

The Empty Chair

 

The empty chair,
No battle drawn,
My father’s there,
Thirty years gone,

 

My mother died,
One year ago,
She would confide,
She loved him so.

 

We’d sit and talk,
My Mom and I,
Her hands would balk,
I fed her pie.

 

But, now she’s gone,
I see one chair,
Out in the lawn,
My father’s there!

 

A boy will walk,
To see this man,
To sit and talk,
With no demand.

 

“We men won’t bow”.
“We do not bend”
“Hold your wife now.”
“Unto the end!”

 

Thanksgiving Day,
All wishes willed,
No empty chair,
My cup is filled!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 6, 2013

Chatter Chatter

Chatter Chatter

 

Chatter Chatter

Chatter; chatter,
What's the matter,
Corn bread dry,
Not thin; not fatter,
Too much corn meal,
Drier batter,
One more egg,
Is that the Chatter?
Much less corn meal,
In the batter,
Time to pitter,
Time to patter,
Chitter: chitter,
Chatter; Chatter.

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 4, 2013

 

Nonsense poem
Fun, fun, fun...

On Meditation

 

 

On Meditation

 

“Non-doing” or just “letting go”;
 Each meditative term,
I contemplate my “breath-in-breath”,
But, soon I start to squirm!

 

I’m not supposed to expect change,
Just seek what is within,
And, yet if I feel “good” inside,
It’s not a “Loss” or “Win!

”

I’ve always had a problem,
For I never could sit still,
I may just have to find a diff’rent,
High blood pressure pill!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 30, 2013

 

 

Gabriel the Captain and Elijah the Pirate

Elijah the pirate was kind as you’ll find in a ship that was black as his hat,
And, Gabriel the Captain in the King’s command would chase his own good brother, that’s that,
Elijah would seek only gold that is hid by the other old pirates at sea,
Yet, Gabriel was bound to just bring back the gold and the loot for his king and country.

 

Around island bend with the dawn in his eye the fine Captain Old Gabriel would shout,
“I see the black ship! Drop the sail! Anchor down, or the ‘Pirate’ will see us about!”
Elijah with telescope firm in his hand saw the King’s ship all coming around,
With all calmness he turned to his crew as he said, “Let us show the fine ‘Cap’ what we’ve found!”

 

“Turn about; sail our ship within twelve hundred yards, and then fire one canon astray,”
“I want to parlay, No, I do not want war, for I know we will friends this day!”
By midday Elijah was boarding King’s ship, as he asked for some water to drink,
As Gabriel approached then Elijah just smiled as he said, “We must sit down and think!”

 

“Gabriel my brother, I love you so dear, remember our parting from home,”
“You’re ten; I was six when our father he’d sail on ocean’s great waters and foam,”
“Our mother had died so he took us with him on his ship, and we slaved in the mess,”
“We scrubbed every pan, every kettle and pot; we were stuck and we had no redress!”

 

“But, then we succumbed to that rare storm at sea when the whirlpool just took our ship down,”
“The hull it caved in while the cold water raged, and I hugged you once more for we’d drown,”
“I woke from the depths I was on this black ship where the skull and cross bone flag did fly,”
“I learned to survive with my pistol and sword; had I not then I surely would die.”

 

“I learned through the years you survived the ship wreck on this island by King’s ship you were found,”
“And, now we are here on this desolate shore, not by duty but fate we are bound,”
Now Gabriel stood, and he walked to the rail as he peered at the white barren beach,
“Before father died he just gave me a map, and he said, “The treasure’s in reach!”

 

“He handed me also a link of chain from an anchor all rusted and bent,”
Elijah reached out took the link in his hand rubbed his thumb; said “I know what is meant-“
“By the link of this chain, and the old anchor moved that now rests at the base of a tree,”
“Tonight we will land on the shore with the map, and the link so that we will be free.”

 

They found Elijah’s anchor by the tree he said he’d found,
And, with the map that Gabriel had a chain was in the ground,
With rusty link the brothers bound the link that father gave,
A wondrous light began to glow from hallowed grave!

 

The ground it shook and opened up a golden lightened sheen,
Out of an island mountain near their father could be seen,
Now walking up to sons he states, “It took a great long while,”
“Let’s sail once more, upon the seas, then rest upon this isle!”

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 23, 2013

 

 

Just gaze as simple pond reflects,
With noble human intellects,
The water or the sky above,
Which one of these did man think of?

 

We’ve catalogued the greenery,
And, fauna in the scenery,
We know the content of each star-
In galaxies both near and far.

 

Now, yet some scoffers doubt that God,
Created this; I think that odd,
When they don’t know; they like to jeer,
They roll their eyes, and laugh and sneer.

 

A random roll of dice they say,
Produced the world in which we play,
Entombed within this mortal spool,
If we are wrong; then we’re the fool.

 

But, one man came to change it all,
Jesus the Christ and sin would fall-
The scoffers say what sin is this?
My life is fine and all is bliss.

 

The world’s defined on this great point,
Did Jesus rise, and then anoint,
His followers to spread the news,
New life is yours within the blues!

 

When you are on your death bed such,
You reach to Christ; it’s not a crutch,
The prodigal in life did roam,
He asked forgiveness, and was home!

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 22, 2013

 

 

How Lovely

How lovely can a woman be?
You sitting there across from me,
Your honey hair falls by your chin,
A sideward glance; a little grin.

 

You are a fixture in my life,
My lifelong lover, and my wife,
My heart each second; moment calls,
Just as a ferment river falls.

 

And, as it falls it falls unto,
A crystal stream that is so blue,
True blue as every sky we see,
How can it be? How can it be?

 

When you were just a little girl,
One angel touched your honey curl,
Then reached across some magic line,
And, bound it to a curl of mine.

 

That is the best that I can think,
And, I don’t even want to blink,
You sitting there across from me,
How lovely can a woman be?

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 5, 2013

 

 

My Love

 

Chalk so gray that it belays,
The drawing of our bygone days,
The dark so black,
The bright so white,
Three blocks I walk to hold you tight!
And, I will hold your hand tonight!
By, God, together we’ll be free,
To set our couple’s destiny,
I’m nothing ‘til I reached to you,
In my surprise you touched me too!
Oh, wintry wind. Please blow me down,
Down to my lover’s part of town,
Our parents will as ages move,
Will see we love, and will approve,
And, as it goes the black and white,
The drawing of our bygone days,
Are colored, brilliant, bright displays!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 2, 2013

 

 

Oh, My Baby

 

(To standard Fifties Rock and Roll “Beat”
Specifically to Roy Orbison’s “Mean Woman Blues”)

 

Oh, my baby, shake rattle and roll,
Oh, my baby, shake rattle and roll,
I got a good, good woman full of rhythm and soul!

 

She wears Capri pants, and she can dance,
Kicks off her shoes; you can’t lose,
I got a good, good woman full of rhythm and soul,
She rolls over me like a steamroller roll!

 

She’s a steamroller girl; she knocks me down,
Yah, pretty girl you’re the best in town,
I got a good, good woman full of rhythm and soul,
There are times, there are times, I feel it takes its toll!

 

I got good, good woman full of rhythm and soul,
I got good, good woman full of rhythm and soul,
Travel east, west, south and to the North Pole,
That good, good woman is my shake rattlin’ goal!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 2, 2013

 

Family

 

In nature all of family’s best,
A babe close held at mother’s breast,
A toddler holds his father’s hand,
And, hears his fervent voice command.

 

Two parents needed desperately,
One cooks a meal; the other free,
While Mom deals with the diaper deed,
The other children Dad must feed.

 

On, on it goes as families grow,
These little ones we’ve come to know,
The boisterous ones, the quiet, shy,
We love them all! Oh, my! Oh, my!

 

Now think about when you have grown,
As child has child; their very own,
You grasp upon the joy within,
And, feel the universe just spin!

 

You know that you have done what’s right,
The children raised; you've fought the fight,
It never was the push and shove,
It was the laughs, the hugs, and love!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
October 1, 2013

 

 

Phones

 

Mom, can I have those two cans and some string?
The boys down the street said I could make this thing,
We could whisper a message across our great lawn,
To protect our good house in the night till the dawn.

 

But, now here we are with our texting today,
The emails, and photo streams here on display,
Oh, pull your strings tight; when you whisper within,
Just say, “Hey, I love you!”, and you always win!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 25, 2013

 

 

Spirit of Vacation

 

Pure anticipation,
All things possible,
Waves and water,
Sunset too soon,
Racing to the ocean,
Like every bird I’ve seen,
Arms outstretched I will catch this breeze,
And, fly away to Heaven,
Heaven out there,
Heaven here,
Up, up, up,
Once more into the stratosphere,
Piercing every portal the clouds will allow,
To grasp one more glimpse of the sun,
Then down quickly to watch it play,
Upon the water,
Capture it within,
Held happy,
Always and forever!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 24, 2013

 

Sunrise

 

Sunrise, sand, and soothing weather,
Come my Love let’s walk together,
I pause, and see your silhouette,
The tide upon your toes still wet.

 

I run to catch your waist and turn,
To see your smile with sunrise burn-
Since seventeen these eyes I’ve known,
The flint to steel; a bonfire grown.

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 24, 2013

Family Forever

Toddle ‘round and jibber jab,
Three years old, “I have no tab!”
I’m a boy on mission here,
 The “Vision’s FUN”, I hope that’s clear.

Three years old the cousins meet,
Graham will arrive from Texas heat,
And, Carsten rocks, and Carsten rolls,
Elijah owns his inner goals.

We’ll gather all upon the beach,
Each one will touch the other; teach,
And, learn that we are different, yet,
Family forever; Don’t forget!

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 11, 2013

 

 

Country Lane
 

Country lane; the edge of fall,
And, barefoot you and I hand-in-hand,
On the edge of paradise,
Dusty toes kicking at a black beetle,
Twenty four hour conversation,
Flowing like the stream,
Blowing like the wind,
Leaves dancing,
Sunlight angles,
Amber lights, amber lights,
Soft summer breeze,
We’ve fallen now,
Into tall grasses,
One chance; one glance,
Two smiles;
It’s Fall!
What can you expect!
When it’s You!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 10, 2013

I am What I am

 

I am what I am,
Don’t test me, don’t quiz,
Cause that’s how I roll,
It is what it is.

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 6, 2013


Prison

 

No choice,
That’s what prison is,
No visible walls,
No razor wire necessary,
I can see beauty beyond beauty,
All available,
And, yet,
I have placed myself here,
In a prison of my own making,
Cigarettes,
Alcohol,
Drugs,
Sex,
Abuse,
Some of these lead,
To real prison,
Where others make choices for me,
The only one,
The only ONE,
Who can free me…
Is God!
My Maker,
Christ!
My Redeemer!
Amen!
Please, say it with me!
Amen!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 6, 2013



Somewhere in my “Journal” that daughter Debbie gave me I have made reference to this (most of it has to do with the fact that ALL poems have a genesis, and this one started by reading the first chapter of the book, "The Racketeer", by John Grisham, and about prison.  I started to think about prisons that we all make.  I was overwhelmed.  I needed to write this poem.


A Yellow Finch and the Cornflower

 

 

 

A Yellow Finch will pinch,
A cornflower seed,
Nothing short of life threats,
Can force me,
Make me fly,
A tap on the window,
Will make look,
Who are you?
The blackened seed beneath my claws,
Is sustenance,
Thistle flower will soon turn seed,
But, for now,
It is cornflower!

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 5, 2013

 

 

You Tired

 

You tired of sitting ‘round this place?
Then let’s launch off to “outer space”,
Oh, come on girl, what can we lose,
And, you don’t even need your shoes!

 

We’ll plop down onto sandy beach,
Your bod, your legs, your toes may reach-
And, stretch out, joyous ‘neath the sun,
Yes, come on girl, let’s have some fun!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
September 2, 2013

 

 

 

 

A Penny for Your Thoughts

 

A penny for your thoughts the pauper said,
“If I were moneyed well what would I do?”
“I’d buy some wine, and golden jewelry, too,”
Yet, golden grass within the green is dead

.

Enormous fancy hats the rich may buy,
Or sail upon the sea with sun chapped lips,
But, I with my true lover sits and sips,
To touch our hands, and view this glorious sky!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 27, 2013

Danny (Sonnet)

Oh, you who are my friend, and just friend,
A buddy met for coffee, eggs and toast,
I brought some work, but you as friend and host,
With no agenda I would not offend.
With a true friendship we could now transcend,
To talk of grandchildren, and even boast,
Of marriage, sleep, of pills or ills the most,
Your work sent you away and put an end,
Yet we as friends will always e’re recall,
Two streams converged atop in waterfall!

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 22, 2013

 

 

Oh, What is Dust!

Oh! What is in “Dust” and, oh, why do we care?

That fine mist of gray on top of a chair-

 In the attic where all of our Christmas display,

In bags and in boxes all safe from the fray.

And the chair, with the snowman our Frosty the “man”,

Has been artfully painted on bases of tan,

Now, the mistletoe berries of wood painted red,

With the dusty green leaves they are nestled in bed.

If dust is dead skin cells, and other foul stuff,

Who cares for my dust cloth abounds, it’s enough,

To wipe all the old, so it’s new once again,

As the red berries gleam growing fresh from the glen.

I don’t dust quite often, and, “No”, I don’t dote,

On seasonal ornaments which are remote-

I think of my dust as the cotton so clean,

From white cotton dust cloths, and laundered blue jean!

So science with dust mites some microns so long,

Or, corpses, or feces a desiccant song,

We humans are strong, if from ashes or dust,

And, from Adam and Eve we’ll survive or we’ll bust!

Peter Lowell Paulson

August 21, 2013

 

 

Celebrations

 

Celebrations are so wonderful!
The first breathe of life,
A newborn’s cry,
Met with countless tears,
Of joy,
And, Yes!
Of celebration!
And, yet…
Before birth, what joy!
A girl; a boy!
Cheers in anticipation!
Celebration!
Ten fingers; ten toes;
Who knows ?
A genius or not,
We’ve got our child…
A child of God!
A celebration with every…
Smile and grin,
Each coo, and ah-goo,
The smallest fingers grasp my little finger,
As she is suckling,
Breast or bottle,
Mom or Grandma,
Cradles her, and celebrates!
And, now first year,
One Year old!
How bold we sit him in a highchair,
With cake and lighted candle,
Celebrating with him!
And, he confused with total freedom,
To put face to frosting,
But, we’re not done with celebrating,
First steps if not taken yet,
Alphabet recited,
And, numbers one, two three, and more,
Potty training,
Annoying celebration,
But, celebrating two things,
Let’s get real,
Less hassle with diapers,
Less poo,
But, the BEST celebration of ALL!
It’s Saturday morning,
You are in your bed sleeping,
He (your child) goes to the kitchen,
Gets his plastic bowl from the cabinet,
He pours the cereal, the milk into the bowl,
He places it on the table and gets his own spoon to eat,
Now THAT, my friends, is the BEST CELEBRATION ever!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 20, 2013

 

 

Thank You, Lord

 

Thank You, Lord, for giving me a life so full of love,
And, for this day the earth at dawn all sun kissed from above,
Instill in me the will to be for others in my care,
A person who is just like You with all I have to share.

 

Peter Lowell Paulson


Crush it!

Stomp it,
Crush it,
Let’s walk it out!
We do EVERY day!
Don’t we girl?
Yes, we do!
YOU are my ideal,
Because you are beautiful beyond belief,
And, you are you,
The, “ME” nobody knows!
go, go, go, go, go, go, GO-O-O!
I see the artwork in the studio,
That nobody else sees,
Yah, that’s you BABY!
I hear the most intelligent conversation,
From YOU,
not on the TV!
No, from You,
Let’s live,
Beyond, the hype,
Beyond the grip of other’s expectations,
We are who WE are,
Let’s stomp it,
Crush it!

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 14, 2013

 

 

Did I Say I Liked Your Purple Shoes?

 

 

Did I say I liked your purple shoes?

Oh yah, and the matching socks,
Pretty cool,
Really,
You said to me last night, “Your toes are really big!”
And, then you laughed, or kind of giggled,
That got me to stare at your bare feet from across the room,
And, then at mine,
I said, “Ok, but compared to you everything on me is going to be big,”
You smiled, and laughed again, and said, “I’m just sayin’”,
If you stand on your tip toes we can see eye to eye,
Nose to nose,
We knows, because we’ve measured,
Mouth to mouth, too,
Kissy,
Smoochy,
You’re so cute!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 13, 2013

When You Feel You’re Weak

 

When you feel you’re weak; oh, please don’t lose it,
Don’t take in on the cheek; but, don’t recuse it,
The one, who is the freak; and, would abuse it,
Now you must reach your peak, and not refuse it!

 

You’re quiet as a doe, but, you’re no Dumbo,
A netted shrimp in tow, but, not in Gumbo,
An elephant we know, but not our Jumbo,
It’s time to learn and go, you have the Mumbo!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 13, 2013

 

 

Note: Every poem is inspired.  Whether a poet says it is on not, it is.  What is it that a poet has that comes naturally is rhythm and rhyme.  Why it happens is clueless.  I was listening to Broadway Musical Radio on XM Sirius.  One caught my ear about being “mischievous” .  If you Googled that word you could probably figure out which one it is.  The “cadence” and the “message” caught me.  I started playing around with my own words and this is the result.  PLP