My Jayhawk Granddaughter

It seems like it was a short time ago when my son marched for the first time with the Marching Band at the University of Kansas. It couldn't have been so long ago. Now my granddaughter marched for the first time last saturday. She had a great time. She also played with the pep band for the volleyball team. I am proud of her parents who marched there and I'm proud of her as well. Where has time gone?

She's the one on the left!

The Widow Who Gave Her Mite.

Haven't done a poem for a while. This one is the result of working on my sermon this week on "The Generous Are Blessed."

Luke 21:1-4

I’d gone to temple to give a gift
but I didn’t have much money.
A rich man gave a large amount
which made me feel quite funny.

How could I give my piddling sum
after his great treasure?
But when I placed it in the box
I was filled with much pleasure.

After I turned to walk away
at a distance Jesus swore
that the very small gift I gave
was really a lot more.

It was all I had in my purse
I knew not what I would do.
But I was blessed beyond compare
before that day was through.

A nice young man standing near
followed after me a while.
And when we were standing alone
he showed a great big smile.

He said his mother was deceased
and he missed her very much.
He handed me a bag of food
and gave my hand a touch.

I ate like a princess that night
and I was truly blessed
just because I traveled that day
to give God my very best.

© Copyright 2009 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.

Pogo the Opossum's Lesson

Pogo the Opossum’s Lesson


By Larry Linville

The little opossum was learning about life


He learned there was hardship and he learned there was strife.


Let’s call him Pogo quite a cute little guy


they taught him when in trouble to pretend to die.





Young Pogo thought there must be a better way


so he went to study in a school far away.


His family and friends questioned his decision


and they discouraged him with words of derision.





They said that their methods had worked a long time


“you fool your pursuers acting like a mime.”


He said that mimicking wouldn’t be the last word


the school had better methods he was assured.





He studied some systems of the martial arts


and memorized a lot of things in some charts.


He studied philosophy and logic as well


also a business course to learn how to sell.





He learned many methods to run fast as could be


and he even got good at climbing up a tree.


He shined as a student and was given straight A’s


after graduating he went home with new ways.





He approached the house and said, “Here I are!”


and just then was run over by a red car.


He had spent all that time studying in school


and then he was run over like he was a fool.





Now in case you think his ideas were wrong


and he should have stuck with the ways proven so long


let me suggest he had done the things that he should


and all of his training was so very good.





But his learning should have gone on all his life


even long after he had married a wife.


So the next time you think your life’s learning can stop


remember Pogo and don’t let study stop.





If he’d checked other courses with the registrars


the next might have been about avoiding cars.


This poem is so silly I guess now you know


but I hope it will help your study to grow.



© Copyright 2009 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.


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A Deserted Graveyard

A Deserted Graveyard

By Larry Linville

Far out in the county

in a deserted field

where grass has died and wilted

a graveyard is revealed.

The graves of family members

who worked hard with the land

were marked by simple stones

some of which still stand.

The stones not costly granite

some simple limestone gray

most were just poured concrete

where family bowed to pray.

Names and date were crudely

carved in each stone in love

some broken and fallen

others pointing straight above.

Each grave holds a treasure

and a story of a life

some died in golden years

others from some strife.

Some shared a common date

perhaps from some disease

and now they laid together

below a grove of trees.

After winter blankets them

and dresses them with snow

spring will come hide them

with tall grass that will grow.

No one will come and mow it

or bring flowers in a vase

God alone will tend them

with a special loving grace.

© Copyright 2009 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.

Little Black Haired Girl

Little Black Haired Girl
By Larry Linville

He was only ten years old
and girls were the enemy.
A girl walked out from the crowd
just as pretty as could be.

He saw her black curly hair
and did not know what to think.
Her smile and her big brown eyes
stood out with her dress of pink.

Enemies don’t look like that.
It made the boy so confused.
His big hatred for girls
he was beginning to lose.

He hid behind his mommy
but her movements he would track.
When he peeked around mother
that pretty girl looked back.

And when the night was over
as he walked out the door
he stopped as he was leaving
and looked at that girl once more.

He never saw that girl again
but in every crowd he looked.
Although he still hated girls
on that girl this boy was hooked.

© Copyright 2009 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.

Woman Eating Out Alone

Woman Eating Out Alone
By Larry Linville

She drove alone in her car
to eat alone at a salad bar.
Her pastel pant suit neatly pressed
had replaced her former fancy dress.

Had the waitress not smiled and spoke
and shared a funny little joke
she would have eaten quietly
sitting where everyone could see.

When she finished she got out a mirror
to see if her lipstick would smear.
She smiled at the waitress by the door
like she’d done many time before.

Alone she drove back to her house
thinking of her departed spouse
and how they ate out every week
and many times they didn’t speak
but communicated without using a word
and both understood just like they’d heard.

She recalled how hard he had worked
and never did his saving shirk.
He left her with ample funds
so she could make these weekly runs.
She paused when inside the door
to thank him as she’d done before.

© Copyright 2009 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.

Arguing With Myself

Arguing with Self
By Larry Linville

My best arguments are with myself.
I place my prejudgments on a shelf
and have a good look at every side
where thoughtless views seem to collide.

As logical as I try to be
I point out things the way I see
and then I assume another view
and see things different when I’m through.

The Devil’s advocate I become
even if that view seems very dumb
but it helps me see what I might miss
overlooked in a world of bliss.

Each argument I both win and lose
but the best answer I can choose
and walk away all the better
with my mind freed from a fetter.

© Copyright 2009 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.