Nightfall

(The sunset on Saturday night was spectacular)

The sky has turned to scarlet red. The sun  is sinking in its bed

And soon will draw the shades of night That shut out all the evening light.

The moon will share its gentle glow And stars and planets steal the show.

Then I, in turn, will take my rest, rehearsing how the day was blest.

                                                                                                      PG

Me & Murphy's Law

                          Me & Murphy's Law

Have you not heard of Murphy's Law? Of it I've come to stand in awe.

Can it go wrong? It surely will, Despite perfection, strength or skill.

The point of humor's warp I've reached, All normal expectations breached.

Folks listen now in disbelief As I rehearse my woes and grief.

Yes, Murphy's insight I respect: My life is one big disconnect!

                                                                                                      PG

Summer Visitants

(On  Monday night I saw the first lightning bugs of the season.)

What was it that I saw tonight?

Could it be angels sprinkling light?

From densest grass they seem to rise,

Dispersing to the shrouded skies.

Do they, their mission once complete,

Rejoin the heav'nly corps d'elite?

                                                    PG

Footprints

I have walked through the shadows.

I have walked in the night.

I have walked in the sunshine

And have walked in the Light.

I have trekked though the desert

And have skipped on the leas.

I have strolled by the river.

I have waded the seas.

I have followed the pathway

And have hiked down the trail.

I have climbed up the hillside.

I have rambled the vale.

But the steps I'm now taking

I've ne'er taken before,

And one leaves only footprints

That know him no more.

The Call

The following was written some time ago upon hearing that a grandson was planning to study for the Christian ministry- in the tradition of his grandfather and two uncles, as well as of his father who is a Christian writer.

A Voice- the Call- that Truth compels;

Its unrelenting Wind that swells;

That Hunger Pang but One can fill;

The Lion's roar that whispers still;

Blood Stain refusing bleach or fade;

A Sun from which there is no shade;

Pursuit; Demand;Divine Employ

To sacred Sorrow's splendid Joy.

PG