Here is my poem for the fourth Sunday in Advent.
In response to the Gospel of John:
Word Beats
Eternal darkness where
the word drifts across
the drum beat of life,
Da Dum …
Hear the staccato light
punctuate the night
as words melt into
the hope of dawn.
The dancer ties shoes.
Music coalesces.
Hearts beat faster
as the world starts its dance.
Till next week,
Andrew
We do not raise silk worms in the United States, because we get our silk from rayon.
He is a larger worm and gives more silk.
More wisdom next week,
Andrew
Haven’t been in the shop this week, but I made it into the kitchen to make a batch of snickerdoodles (my speciality). Yup, I am a true renaissance man – woodworking, poetry and cookies. I’ve even been known to vacuum the carpet without being asked.
Anyway, you get cookie pictures this week.
waiting to go in the oven.
Just out of the oven.
Just part of the six dozen I baked.
These are destined for Heather’s art class, the church Christmas concert reception, and our tummies. Yum.
If you need me – I’ll be looking up cookie recipes,
Andrew
Here is my poem for the third Sunday of Advent.
In response to the Gospel of Luke:
Elizabeth
Elizabeth, tell me,
was it the same angel?
Was it the one with the thunderous
reassurance?
Mary,
were you perplexed, frightened?
Was there a just a moment of doubt?
Just a second when you felt, “not me?”
Dear Elizabeth,
bewildered and frightened and more,
just before
knowing it was an angel at our doors.
Till next week,
Andrew
Andrew's View of the Week 