Wander with a Wonder

 

Wander with a wonder you and I will fly away,
We’ll hop upon a bird in flight above the fields of hay-
And, soar down to the horses who will gallop toward the streams,
Now, up away so we may play, and grab the bright sunbeams!

 

As clouds appear they open here to water flowers below,
The drops upon the Dogwood leaves all fall so it may grow,
For patter of the rain we see, I thank my God above,
I wander with a wonder now into Your arms of Love!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 30, 2013

 

 

Cornflowers

 

Oh what, oh what a gorgeous day,
The sun upon the cornflower play,
The bluish flower; my summer love,
Reflects the blue of sky above.

 

Now, reds and yellows push the blue,
“It cannot always be ‘bout YOU!”
We tweak, the edge of garden fair,
With borders bold; beyond compare!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 24, 2013

 

The Tale (Part I)

 

At ten years old I have a tale I want to share with you,
But, many people won’t believe. The tale I tell is true,
While walking out in the backyard I saw amongst the weeds,
A glowing glint of two small spheres; they looked like two gold beads.

 

My mother called with true concern, “Your dinner’s ready, Son!”
“We don’t want food to get too cold; Come in! You’ve had your fun.”
I did not want to lose my treasure, so I grabbed a stick,
And, where the glints of gold now shined I pushed the twig right quick.

 

And, after dinner I just asked if I could get my bat,
It’s outside in the backyard, and amongst the this and that,
I found the troll with golden eyes; I plucked him from the ground,
And, everywhere my world exploded with a deafening sound!

(End Part I)

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 23, 2013

 

 

Minstrel’s Son (Part I)

 

Peter was a minstrel’s son; a minstrel’s son was he,
Most handsome lad in all the land; yet kind and so carefree,
His father played for many courts with entertainments rare,
Or, in the town or inns, and pubs, and for the country fair.

 

Now for two years as hired here in castle by the sea,
As Peter played; he spied a maid, and she would spy on he,
Fifteen was she, and sixteen he; he’d play his lute; she’d smile,
He practiced juggling; drop the balls, she laughing all the while.

 

“My father is accomplished at this kind of craft, not me,”
“If you’re so good then try yourself, and I will laugh at thee!”
“I was not laughing at you boy; I see myself in you,”
“I fumble with my parents’ hopes; with all that I should do.”

 

“Let’s run away; we’ll take small treasure; go!”
“You are Lady, Gwendolyn, but I’m no Lord, you know!”
“But, like my father I can earn my honor and your hand,”
“I’ll join the service; make my mark! One day you’ll understand.”

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 10, 2013

 

 

 

 

I Saw a Naked Man  (Sonnet XXIII)

I saw a naked man on island run,
Survivor T.V. show on surf and sand,
And, he would be the lord upon this land,
No worries, really for this is just fun,
A naked trial, so we are all undone,
He found that snails in cooking pot quite bland,
If he could make a bow and arrow; grand!
He’d kill a goat and cook it in the sun!
Yet, most just live all clothed beneath the skies,
We have our fam’ly always by our side,
To hold our hand, and see our smiling eyes,
Through thund’rous storms, and every rising tide,
Our final day we hope our fingers touch,
And, kiss the brow of one we’ve loved so much!

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 9, 2013

I Did Not Ask the Garden

 

 

I Did Not Ask the Garden

 

I did not ask the garden to be beautiful today,
And, yet my Love, your wanderlust would take us far away,
My heart belongs to you; of course, my home is where you are,
Where e’er we go when we look up we see the same bright star.

 

Come take my hand; let’s walk awhile into the wood we’ll go,
The ivy covered storied trees, and woodland flowers below,
Ten paces, Boy, and you are here, with every bird in flight,
Red fox and deer that see us here move slowly out of sight.

 

So take me, take me, I will go adventure is our game,
We’ll live our life; we’ll have great joy; no sorrow and no blame,
But, if we stay I’ll kiss your face, and make each day brand new,
And, we can walk our garden laden with the morning dew!

 

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 3, 2013

Me Thinks

 

 

Me Thinks

 

Me thinks, me thinks, me thinks a lot,
My Father’s gene; he gave; I got,
Not only genes he gave to me,
Philosophized incessantly.

 

We’d knock upon my parents’ door,
To hug and kiss, and hug once more,
My wife and I were home to share,
With “Champions” who loved to care!

 

My Dad would take me to his den,
With men of faith we’d walk the glen,
Freethinkers, atheists our view,
The Humanists and the Brights, too.

 

So come; Universism,

And, also Rationalism
You still with revelation,
Will act with inspiration.

 

Agnosticism is bore,
A “Two-Bit” mush you can ignore,
With Atheists it’s razor thin,
When God pin pricks; then God will win!

 

The Skeptic; Humanistic, too,
Put humans as their “gods” in view,
Too puny, tiny little ants,
But, good will always, always, dance.

 

If you are students; you must try,
The Bible’s realms until you die,
No greater faith is seen by men,
They lose it and come back again.

 

When Christ comes on the scene you know,
That we are saved from death’s dark throe,
When you have reached your darkest hour,
You too can feel Christ’s awesome power!

 

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 2, 2013