Bless all the dad’s who coach teams so that others don’t have to. I hope those once-in-shape warriors find what they’re looking for.
All in Poems
Bless all the dad’s who coach teams so that others don’t have to. I hope those once-in-shape warriors find what they’re looking for.
My friend told me the difference between the American (my word) or Yankee (his word) and the Canadian could be summed up by comparing the Cowboy and the Mountie. For Phil.
I thought the kid would feel embarrassed the next morning when he realized he was the inspiration for this poem. Instead was flattered and thanked me.
With all due respect to the twenty-year-old missionary, I think we need to revisit the notion of dramatic conversion.
I don’t know. A phrase was stuck in my head so I wrote a poem about it when I should’ve been helping in the church library.
They say there are two types of people in the world and never the twain shall meet.
With all due respect to Thoreau, Emerson, or any other weirdos lurking in the bushes …
How to celebrate the heroes who don’t wear capes? Or even shirts around the house?
For some the world will completely stop; for others it will go on normally.
“…even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.”
Why was everyone so grossed out on my way up and so complimentary on my way down?
For anyone who has ever found themselves marooned in a conversation.
There are two ways you can play this, and each says a lot about you.