Church Meeting Lying

Church Meeting Lying
By Larry Linville

I was asked to speak at a church
and I said I’d surely do it.
Then recalled I would miss a game
and began to really rue it.

Let me come up with an excuse
I could employ to call it off.
Just like a big fat selfish hog
forcing my way up to the trough.

Excuses all seemed very lame
there has to be a good one
to get free of the commitment
to witness for God’s only Son.

Before making that vital call
and telling the church a big lie
I began to feel like Judas
Saying “Dear Lord, Is it I?”

Lying seems so commonplace
and it’s nothing very odd
but I just couldn’t let myself
lie about church things to God.

I kept my word and I am glad.
What more do I need to say!
The game was not that day at all.
It was played the very next day.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Busy, busy, busy.....

I really get upset with myself when I let this blog sit many days without an entry -- preferably a poem. Poets go into the desert when no inspiration comes. The more you try the harder it is to get an inspiration.

Thelma and I have both been to the doctor. Her broken foot is healing very slowly. I had my lab work for my annual physical. That has taken time.

We are also working to get a business off the ground to supplement our pension. I have a pension that is tremendous unless we want to eat out or go somewhere. We have been working with Prepaid Legal Services, Inc. I'm very excited about helping the average person obtain affordable legal help. (You can link up to it and find out about at my link at the upper right hand corner of the page. You might find the best news of the day.

I know that a poem is just an idea away. I really want to do something about April Fool's day and I'm running out of time.

Meanwhile, my book is selling GREAT.

Easter In The Pew

Easter In The Pew.
By Larry Linville

Just the second time since 1960
the second Easter
I have not preached.

Twice in forty-eight years
I’ve given no sermon
and nobody was reached.

The first I was in the hospital
with a Biblical kidney stone
that moved that day.

It hit on Good Friday
and on Easter
the stone rolled away.

Today I was healthy
and ready to receive
as I sat in a pew

as a retired pastor
I sat back and watched
what other people do.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Full Moon

Let me depart from my poetry for a moment.
As I left the Maundy Thursday service last night I saw a big, bright, full moon.
It was a reminder of the setting of the date of Easter.
Thursday morning, just after midnight, was the vernal equinox. The beginning of spring.
Easter is the first Sunday
after the first full moon
after the vernal equinox.
You can see why this is one of he earliest Easters possible.
I hope you'll join the multitude who will be at worship this Easter.

Old Man Winter

Old Man Winter
By Larry Linville

He was unwelcomed as he walked right in.
I wore a smile that was very chagrin.
He said he could not stay very long
but I soon discovered that he was wrong.

The longer he stayed the worse my life went
but his presence I soon grew to resent.
My schedule was upset and all a mess.
I wanted him to leave I must confess.

Many times he went right up to the door
then he would remember just one thing more.
Each time he came back close to talk to me
I knew there was no place for me to flee.

A robin appeared just the other day
and the old man got up and went away.
Now I’m standing and starting to sing.
How happy I am that it is now spring.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Nostalgic Trip

Nostalgic Trip
By Larry Linville

Suddenly I was there
forty years ago.
The old family farm
on the gravel road
grass growing between the ruts
rusty mailbox leaning
in the old rusty milk can.
Freshly mowed hay
sending its scent to my nose.
Newly born calf
cries hungrily for his mom
who sadly joins in the duet.
Chickens scratching the front yard
a ritual of welcome
as we climb the steps
to the old porch with the swing
moving back and forth
from an aunt rising
to great us –her apron string caught between the slats.
Inside the house
the smell of freshly separated milk
gave way to the fried chicken and apple pie.
The unique odor from the pig pen
entered when the wind was in the right direction
and it always was.
Relatives laughedand cried
and something glared
as they whispered
while looking at another.
We ate so much the hogs were jealous
and went back for more.
We kids rode imaginary horses
across the pasture.
I was on Trigger
my cousin on Buttermilk.
Sun sank in the west
as cars departed
and we followed the gravel road
pass the mail box.
Suddenly I was back
rejoicing in my memories.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

I Heard the Stones Cry Out

I Heard the Stones Cry Out
By Larry Linville

When Jesus rode that donkey into town
I found a big stone and then I sat down.
Leaders told Jesus to make them be still
an act he wasn’t about to fulfill.
As he looked and saw so many folks shout
He said, “If they stop, the stones will cry out.”

On that Friday on Golgotha I stood
and wondered aloud “how can this be good?”
When he took his last breath all noise quit
I went to a rock -- I just had to sit
and I thought I heard -- but sometimes I must doubt --
that there were some stones that just had to shout.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

A Boy at the Crucifixion

A Boy at the Crucifixion
By Larry Linville

I sat upon his knee when I was small.
He was so kind even though he was tall.
“You must be like a child” he said so loud
and it made an impression on the crowd.

I followed him because he was so kind
and watched him when he healed the sick and blind.
I ran beside him with palm branch in hand
and felt important in the joyful band.

It’s hard for a small boy to understand
how the people could make such a demand
to ask old Pilate to crucify him
and undertake action that was so grim.

I held the hand of his mother so dear
as I looked at her as she shed a tear
when he told John to love her as a son
and their new relationship was begun.

When I was older I told my small boy
how the haters thought that they could destroy
his wondrous love by all their rejection
but he answered with the resurrection.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

My Birthday and the Bible

My Birthday and the Bible
By Larry Linville

Today’s my birthday
one year for each Bible book
a simple sixty-six .
Now I guess I’ll become a Catholic
to use the Apocrapha
which should get me to 82.

A Special Meal

A Special Meal
By Larry Linville

My life was in shambles
collapsing
falling apart.
In desperation
I climbed a tall hill
and sat under a big tree
far away from the cruel world
awaiting the enlightenment
of the rays from the rising sun.
As I tried once more
to pray to God
another man joined me
in that remote place.
With much on his mind
he listened to me
and placed his own problems aside.
Soon my heavy load
left me floating in ecstasy.
A few days later
with Passover near
I saw him alone again.
In gratitude I offered him a gift
and he graciously accepted.
He told his followers
how to meet me
and I led them to a special room
where I catered his Last Supper.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work

Peter Lied To Me

My book is available at the website under the picture of the book on the right.



Peter Lied to Me.
Larry Linville

Just a slave girl and yet I saw him there.
I asked him if he was with him that night.
He denied it all and I heard him swear
because he seemed to answer from great fright.

Two more times he was asked and he denied.
His face demonstrated grimace and pain.
With each question it seemed he almost cried
and his body kept showing such great strain.

I’d never heard a cock crow there before
but it was very loud and clear that day.
When he heard it he stood there in great horror
and then he turned and quickly ran away.

Weeks later he came and beckoned to me.
I remembered who he was at first sight.
He said, “I was with him and I am free
from the denials I gave on that night."

I asked if he’d give me the reason
he had been able to change so much.
He said he’s forgiven from his treason
and he reached out and gave me a touch.

It felt just like Jesus had touched me
and my life was filled with great power.
I’ve never in my life felt so free
as I did in that life-changing hour.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

A Blind Man at Easter

My book is available at the website under it's picture at the right.


A Blind Man at Easter
By Larry Linville

I have been blind my whole life long.
Not much reason to sing a song.
Good people helped me get around
but I had a good sense of sound.

I was crossing a busy road
feeling the burden of my load
and didn’t seem to hear the crowd
even though they were very loud.

Caught in the midst of a parade
I was frightened so I just prayed
that I would not be overcome
but I fell and was feeling numb.

There on the ground, where could I be?
My eyes opened and I could see.
I saw a man riding an ass
touching me as I watched him pass.

Later that week I watched him die
on the middle cross in the sky.
I saw the tomb they put him in
and on Sunday I was there again.

I was there before it was day
and saw the stone being rolled away.
You wonder, “Who did it?” I won’t say.
You’ll find the answer some sweet day.

© Copyright 2008 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.