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.