My Poems
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TO MY NEW GRANDBABY
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O'SIYO
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 Dear Camille, Lynn, Anne, or Grace,
Do please hurry and take your place!
Mommy thinks she's just too fat;
Your speedy arrival will change all that.
Daddy stays up late at night,
Checking finances by candle light.
Grandpa Dewayne bought a mitt and bat.
Your precious face will change all that.
Cousins think they are the best,
But very soon you'll join the rest.
Parents schedule their lives so pat.
But I know YOUR plan to change all that.
BJP:1999
Camille arrived December 22,1999!
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 I say to you"O'siyo"
Who am I to say "O'siyo"?
I've not a drop of Cherokee
But I have a friend
Who is dear to me,
So I can say "O'siyo".
BJP:1999
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Heaven to Me
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 People talk of palaces;streets all made of gold
They mention family who've gone on; friends of long ago.
And singing with the heavenly choir; I know these things are true,
But I guess my idea of heaven..is not the same as you.
Why do I need a palace, when I'll not sleep; nor will it rain?
I don't like streets of any kind; I prefer a country lane.
A solo beats a heavenly choir, but I'm told these things must do.
I guess my idea of heaven...is not the same as you.
I so long to meet my Master; talk with Him face to face
But I know He'll travel with me, as I seek a solitary place.
To be a wandering minstrel is my goal; will God grant the wish I view?
For I know my dream of heaven...is not the same as you.
Or will God spend some extra time, some work on me to do?
BJP:1999
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�
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IF YOU DON'T CALLThere is no whistle on a train
No violets grow along the lane
Autumn leaves refuse to fall
If you don't call.
No blossoms on the cherry trees
Crickets don't hear with their knees
Little boys won't chase a ball
If you don't call.
Old ladies don't need a helping hand
Children hate castles in the sand
No one wants to shop the mall
If you don't call.
BJP:About 1987
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YOU HAVE TO SHAREMy mother tried to teach me
When I was just a child
One should always share their toys
And strive for meek and mild.
Now something interferes
With this idea of sharing
It seems the sharing of one's thoughts
Is a sign of caring.
But my thoughts are not meek
My anger is not mild
My thoughts will devastate
I'm more than a little riled.
BJP 1999
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| Favorite Links
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FortuneCity
Here is a link to FortuneCity.
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