Psalmist at Church Camp

Psalmist at Church Camp
By larry r Linville

What would the ancient psalmist say
if he stood where I’m standing today?
Could he find all the perfect words
about the trees and all the wild birds?

Could he paint that pretty sunset
or the rainbow in the sky set?
Could he describe the majesty
of this place I’m blessed to be?

Would the rain falling on his face
remind him of God’s wondrous grace?
Would the soft breezes in his hair
remind him God’s Spirit is there?

Would Eden’s garden fill his mind
and this blessing to humankind?
He might think it’s so nifty
he’d write a new hundred and fifty.

This work of God’s hand he would see
God’s special gift for you and me.
God is mindful it is true
and gives nature to me and you.

I Was Once Six

The campers last week were first and second graders and it caused me to reflect on being a six year old.


I Was Once Six
By larry r Linville

I’ve forgotten or never knew
what it’s like to be six years old.
I think I was pretty bashful
at least that’s what I’ve been told.

When I see kids that age today
there is such a different tone.
Some want to sit and talk to me
While others want to be alone.

I learned the alphabet at home
from a Crisco can I’d repeat
but kids learn it more quickly
while watching Sesame Street.

I guess kids are always the same
no matter what’s thought by adults.
Perhaps it’s when we’re looking back
that we get other results.

Maybe it’s their curious minds
that make them look for what’s new
as we think in our advanced years
that our days of learning are through.

Christmas at Summer Camp

Christmas at Summer Camp
By larry r Linville

They came to camp on a hot July day
with sweat running down each face
expecting a subject equally hot
on the topic about God’s grace.

They entered the cabin and stood in shock
puzzled by all they could see
decorations all over the place
and in a corner, a Christmas tree.

Had the staff gone crazy from the heat?
We have Christmas when it’s cold.
Who in their right mind would celebrate
how could they be so bold?

The went on studying Jesus’ birth
shared in a non-hectic time.
No hustle and bustle and searching for gifts
but the soft story shared so sublime.

Christmas in July brought a fresh breeze
cooling the hot weather outside
preparing in the heart of each camper
a place for the babe to reside.

Last Day At Camp

Last Morning At Camp
By Larry R Linville

Sun is rising at the camp
Leaves sparkle their dewy damp
Birds sing special melody
If I listen it’s for me

Squirrels climbing up a tree
To the drone of bumble bee
Fish are jumping in the lake
As the bull frogs start to wake

Scents of wild flowers in the air
Telling me they are still there
From a tree some walnuts fall
Reminding me they are tall

I don’t miss auto’s roar
Can’t hear honking any more
Sirens in the distant past
And no one is driving fast

It’s been good to get away
And I’d really like to stay
To the rat race I must go
But I think I’ll go real slow

The Tree

The Tree
By Larry R Linville

See that tree standing in that spot?
Could’ve been planted by likely not.
A flying bird might have dropped a seed
and a sapling grew up like a weed.

A farmer with his mighty ax
left it there so he could relax.
When he came back the tree had grown
and looked so good he left it alone.

As it grew taller its limbs spread wide
and it stretched toward heaven with such pride.
It’s leaves danced with joy in a slight breeze
and branches shivered in winter’s freeze.

So many places it could have stood
and each place might have been as good
but the place it occupies today
must be where it was meant to stay.

Kilmer said God can make a tree
but poets reflect on them you see
and all the poems that we may write
can’t really express our great delight.

Arriving Early

Arriving Early
By Larry R Linville

I have a habit that’s very bad
had it since I was a lad.
I never want to show up late
and I share this habit with my mate.

You never know when you’ll be delayed
walking in like a big parade
because there was traffic trouble
from a road filled with trash and rubble.

I don’t want to receive the hate
of those people who have to wait
for me so they can start the meeting
or even worse – to start their eating.

I get there early so I won’t worry
rushing around in a great big hurry
only to arrive the very first
so I won’t be the one that’s cursed.

Through the years I’ve wasted much time
feeling like the victim of a crime
because I’ve sat there for hours hating
the fact that I’m the one who’s waiting.

Phydoux on a Diet

Phydoux on a Diet.
By Larry r. Linville

I think it’s a conspiracy! My vet is sadistic and she has convinced my owners to join in the plot. They say I’m too fat and need to lose weight. Baloney--- oh that sounds good! Anything sounds good right now. I’m starving. My ribs are rubbing against each other. Oh, ribs sounds good – with plenty of sauce!

In the days of my ancestors we were on our own. We weren’t penned up and we could go out and hunt for all the food we wanted. They could catch a rabbit or a squirrel with no trouble. Now we are inside the house all day. That has never been a problem because I always had a bowl with dog food in it. Now the taste of that dog food is another issue but at least it fills my stomach. You know I always got the cheapest dog food at Walmart.

I also learned how to do cute things and get “treats.” They weren’t the best treats but they were the best you could get cheap at Walmart. Cuteness also could get me some food from the table. Those crusts from pizza aren’t bad, especially when they have some sauce on them.

Now I get a small amount of food in the morning so I have nothing to eat again until my small cup I get in the evening. I feel like I’m being abused. Starvation is abuse. If I don’t eat it all, they take my bowl up and I can finish it in the evening.

I think everything is ironic because the adults in my house are all overweight but I’m on a diet. I wish the vet was fat but she isn’t. I have to sit around and watch the adults all eat three big meals a day and snack on sweets between meals. Their doctor told them they should lose weight but you don’t see them eat a small bowl of food twice a day. It isn’t right!

The only hope I have to get more food is to sit under the table and grab any food that falls to the floor. I’ve found it’s better to be near Daddy’s side of the table because he misses his mouth more often. I lick the floor to get every last taste but sometimes I get a splinter in my tongue

I have to watch the TV and see all the food advertised. Once in a while there is a bad commercial about how it’s important to keep you dog slim, but most of the commercials look so good. That is torture.

They say I should exercise but nobody here will take me for a walk. They open the door to the back yard and shout, “Phydoux, go exercise!” They climb on their Wii fit plus when they could be walking me around the neighborhood.

I don’t know how much I have to lose but I’m fearful I will be on a diet the rest of my life – just like they are supposed to be. If anyone has some spare food, would you pleased throw it over the fence in the back yard. I guarantee I will be able to smell it and get to it.