In the Gallery

snowy branches


Winter’s brush, with frozen bristles

Decorates the thorns and thistles –

Weaves her words to paint a spell

That beautifies the weeds as well

As ever Solomon was dressed

In kingly robes and royal crest;

Her art, expressed in silver tones,

Becomes the flesh to drape bare bones,

Makes beautiful the cold mundane,

Declares the glory of her reign.

I, who humbly view her show,

Am lured, enraptured by the snow.

Waving Easter In


Plants decked out in white

Wearing hopeful hearts on sleeves

Waving Easter in

Laundering Royal Robes

Not to worry , my friend;

those spots where the pollen has perched,

those places where the stains of choices made

mar the beauty of your pristine robe

are about to be

treated to a spot-free rinse,

a soothing soak,

a whitening process to rival

the best dentist’s tools.

Yes, walking around in the gutter

does tend to dampen the hem –

but your  Royal Robe

was pre-treated

in ‘Saint-Guard ‘(TM),

with ‘Prayer-Release’ technology

designed to


that the wearer will


in Dazzling White…

Sunday Morning

Tenors chime with soprano voices,

Basses boom with deep note choices,

Robes are straightened, warm-up trills;

Throats are cleared to drum-beat fills.

Pews are filled with chorus song,

Soloist extends notes long;

Worship team lifts hearts in prayer

As Sunday’s choir fills the air.