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  • All the Fruits of Creation Their Glories Give

    From my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    In Autumn time when atop the trees
    The colors of fire are in the leaves

    The Harvest Moon in the sky will shine
    On pumpkins orange upon the vine

    Apples are crisp and caramel is sweet
    And cider is pressed and deer are fleet

    And geese in the sky fly in a “V”
    And sap flows brown from the maple tree

    For making syrup and sugar soft
    And hay is gathered in the barn’s high loft

    And the corn is ripe on stalks that sway
    And dusk falls soon on All Saints day

    All the fruits of Creation their glories give
    To the mighty God by Whom they live

  • As Memories Walk With Me

  • A Wandering Deep

    From my book Wings Upon the Unseen Gust

    I heard the rumble of the train
    From far across the frozen lake
    The ice rebounding a refrain
    From every rattle it would make

    I saw the long line of its cars
    Descending down out of the hills
    to wend its way beneath the stars
    Toward the lake the valley fills

    It crossed the bridge that spanned the deep
    And continuing on it went
    While the world lay still asleep
    On its errands it was bent

    And I wondered where all it would go
    In its travels across this land
    What places would it come to know?
    Even the seashore’s shining strand?

    O forth to go adventuring!
    Abroad to seek the journey’s thrills!
    A walking stick in hand to swing
    And raise the dust of distant hills

    And under stars to make my bed
    Beside a campfire burning bright
    On fragrant boughs to lay my head
    And dream all through the night

    But what then of the little face
    Of the one who waits for me at home
    For the one that no one could replace
    If his father set out to roam?

    And think of what I’ve come to know
    Through life beside my own hearth fire
    Of love and joy and how they grow
    In yielding up our own desire

    And embracing an adventure
    I never knew that I would find
    Grander than the road’s indenture
    Beyond the borders maps have lined

    For there is a wandering afar
    Adn there’s a wandering that’s deep
    That steers a course set by the star
    Of the promises we keep

    It is the journey of the heart
    That leads into this mystery
    That is love, and has its start
    Where our own sacrifice will be

    So I will stay where duties bind
    And tend this task that’s given me
    And walk this road so I might find
    Where leads this mystery

    And let the train go where it will
    Through this world that lies asleep
    For I will keep to love’s path still
    Wandering on into the deep

  • From a Child’s Birth

    From my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    What is this lesson that we’ve been taught
    In the miracles God has wrought

    In bringing blessings to this Earth
    Coming from a child’s birth

    Isaac born to Sarah when she was old
    And Jacob to Rebekah with her ring of gold

    And Joseph, the man who saw in dreams,
    Born to Rachel of Laban’s schemes

    Moses drawn from the Nile’s water
    Even by the Pharoah’s daughter

    Samson born when an angel came
    In a field to a woman never named

    Samuel, the son of the silent prayer
    Of Hannah, his mother, in her despair

    And John the Baptist who leapt for joy
    When still in the womb Elizabeth carried her boy

    And Mary’s Son Who sacrificed
    For us Himself: Jesus Christ

  • The Sun and the Sea

    From my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    I sit in the shade beneath the tree
    In the summertime beside the tree
    And watch the sparkles on the bay
    Where sun and sea together play

    I am the sun and you are the sea
    Come and sit in the shade with me
    And together sparkle like the bay
    When sun and sea together play

  • Saint Cuthman at Penfold’s Field

    From my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    “Laugh man, weep Heaven,”
    Said aloud the saint,
    When at a widow’s sorrow,
    They laughed without restraint

    The sorrow of widows and the poor
    They scorned and made their sport,
    Those in Penfold’s Field who mowed,
    And feared not Heaven’s court

    But their laughter quickly faded
    When from a sky of blue
    Torrents of rain descended
    To ruin the crop that grew

    The bounty they had expected
    All suddenly was gone
    While the poor man who had spoken
    Drew the widow on

    The widow who was his mother
    And crippled, no more could walk,
    And her son who was a poor man
    Pulled her handcart while they talked

    Of the glories of their Maker,
    And the blessings from their God,
    Even while in poverty
    A lonely road they trod

    For he who was a poor man
    Also was a saint
    And bore the crosses he’d been given
    In joy without complaint

    And always filled with love for God,
    And the beauties of creation,
    Given freely as a gift,
    As was his own salvation

    Saint Cuthman in the village Steyning
    built a church with his own hands
    A shepherd who the sheep obeyed
    When he gave to them commands

    And at the words of this saint
    The rains from Heaven fell
    The laughter of the haughty
    In their spoiled fields to quell

    That in West Sussex men might learn
    Wherein to place their joy
    Not in the riches of the Earth
    The moth might still destroy

    But in those things eternal
    For which Heaven laughs or cries
    The things which are unchanging,
    Unlike our earthly skies

    And still unto this very day
    When Penfold’s Field is mown
    Rain descends like tears upon
    Land cruel laughter once had sown

  • John Winthrop’s Flour

    From my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    The oven held one loaf of bread
    The last that he would eat
    For fast away their flour sped
    While waiting on the fleet

    From England’s green and fertile shores
    From whence their grain would come
    At last that they might fill their stores
    And the pains of hunger numb

    But no ships sailed into the bay
    And each day they saw pass
    Their flour ran on swift away
    As sands through an hourglass

    When history was written down
    Would Boston see its name
    One day remembered with Jamestown
    For ships that never came

    And The Starving Time that followed
    When people died in scores
    And their land with pits was hollowed
    For graves along its shores

    The future then he could not know
    When he peered into his jar
    And saw the flour drawn down low
    And felt England then afar

    But the Shining City Upon the Hill
    Must shine for men to see
    If as a spark in passing, still
    A light eternally

    What flour he had remaining
    John Winthrop gave away
    Thus through his want sustaining
    His brother another day

    Then the hand of God they knew
    For that very hour
    They spied upon the ocean blue
    Sails as white as flour

  • At Harvest Time

    from my book A Craftsman at Play in Creation

    At harvest time we gather in,
    And gathering remember when

    The seeds were planted long ago,
    And thank the Lord Who made them grow

  • Cling You Ever Tighter

    From my book Wings Upon the Unseen Gust

    Hear the roaring of the sea
    And the howling winds that call
    A message unto you and me:
    “Know that man is small,”

    “So cling you ever tighter,”
    “In this world of crashing waves,”
    “Where raves the mad heel-biter,”
    “To The Cross that saves.”

  • The Russet Leaves of Autumn Maize

    From my book The Lone Knight of Kemsing

    The russet leaves of Autumn maize
    Mark the start of Autumn days
    For red when first the Fall is born
    Is painted on the leaves of corn

    For so it is with Nature’s way
    From sunrise at the start of day,
    Unto a babe’s first breath on Earth,
    The red of blood is part of birth

    So, too, when Jesus ushered in
    The New World after Adam’s sin
    And saved us men, made of mud,
    By the shedding of His blood