“I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.“
And so the poet wrote.
Trees come in all shapes and sizes
In their branches are surprises.
Well, this poet’s tree has died!
This Friday it fell (kaboom!) on its side.
So, from now on, dear blog reader
Do not expect a Friday Cedar.
But when my sap is truly running
I’ll post a poem that’s really stunning.
Burma Shave.
What fun it’s been to anticipate
A rhyme every Friday since July 2008.
More than fifty of them, silly, reverent, insightful,
sheblogan followers found them delightful.
May I thank you by returning the favor?
May I mention some of those I most savor . . .
You began with an “Ode to the Covered Dish,”
You pleaded, please stop with the tuna fish,
Then considered a reckless “Brett Number Four”
And our intern Rob who is with us no more.
“Winnie the Widow” (nursing home) made me sad
But your “Love Lifted Me” tribute made me glad
I’m pleased you enjoyed your “Christmas Gift”
And “Night after Christmas” was a humorous lift
“Racine Kringle,” to die for, then wisely you said,
Maintain marriage, lest it be dead.
“Moving day,” a thoughtful encouraging ode
to a friend in the midst of changing abode
“Needing a reliable Volunteer” struck home too,
“This Lunch is Your Lunch” – credit where due.
We loved your nostalgia: “Paint Lesson” was one,
And,”My Mother” and “Recipes” and “When We Were Young”
But now, can it be? sheblogan’s poet-tree (poetry) dead?
No, it slumbers, will awaken in days ahead.
Meanwhile, thanks for Fridays, We’ve enjoyed them no end,
The rhymes from a poet, a pastor and friend.
Pastor Steve,
I will miss your creative Friday poems, but look forward to special ones “when your sap is really flowing”. I saved most of them, but am at awe at Bonnie’s response. Wow!! Thanks for sharing your talents and blessings, both of you… B.J.