A cloth so fine no human hand could weave,No lace so perfect,No silk so satin-soft as God's fabric on this Orange-pink sunlit rose.How did He do it?Does He have a loom?Does he use needles or shuttle?Masterpiece after masterpiece.

Fragrant of summer,Food from the garden,Bright on the table with family all round.Crisp lettuce, red radishes,Onions, sliced tomatoes;How we will miss you when summer is gone.

Baseball games at City Park Kent and I rode the squawky swingsWhile Dad played outfieldThe lights came on round the fieldJune bugs flew to the glowWe tired of swingsWished for a hot dog,Or a bottle of Orange CrushDad handed us dimes over the fenceNot much happened in the gameSeemed to me, but Dad loved The smell of his... Continue Reading →