College Football Saturday’s 

College Football Saturdays
Gradually, baseball season winds down 

and a different kind of excitement arrives with autumn.

Having been through many seasons and many years,

old warriors can find a unique 

and irreplaceable joy at this time.
Inevitably, new developments and trends come along-

with drama, motion, and cheers-accompanied by the 

sound of marching bands,

as well as acrobatic super excited cheerleaders. 

The onward rush of progress is mixed with tradition and familiar spectacle.
Amidst the competition and struggle,

the tense urgency of these contests, 

there’s a real element of optimism.

The immediacy of the game compels our interest.

If only for a few hours, the daily grind of ordinary difficulties 

dissolves into insignificance.

Economic woes, even world crises becme much less important

when Saturday’s football game grabs our attention.
Though it may appear to be pointlessly simple 

and primitive for these (advanced technological) times,

collectively we’ve made it matter.

With deep emotion, tens of thousands on a Saturday 

revel and shout and sing praise of skillful deeds

we’d just rather not miss.

Balancing Act

the vision of the carefree bear

sauntering along,

making his passage from one end of the fallen

and decayed log to the other,

displays more to us

than we have time to understand.

If we paid attention,

we could see where we go wrong.

It appears to be so easy,

one small step after another-

his clumsiness transforming into grace-

focusing on the task instead of being queasy.

He accomplishes with ease

that which appears unlikely

due to his stature.

Perhaps we have utilized 

too much consciousness,

looking to ourselves 

for all the answers

and 

placing too much trust

in human importance

to see

that we have

the innate potential

to perform

a

balancing act

of our 

own. 

  1.  

The Masterpiece

The Potter took the greatest care with this mound of clay,

Molding to perfection until He had it His way,

Giving His breath of life to this work of art,

And adding the touch of a truly pure heart.

Although your time with us has temporarily ended,

Into the Lord’s hands again you have been suspended.

You’ll be sadly missed by your friends and family here,

But we know that in our hearts, you’ll always be near.

We want to send you off with a joyous celebration,

Elated that you may now skip, jump and run,

And enjoy the things you couldn’t through the years,

Watching from the sidelines, sometimes eyes filled with tears.

The artist created you with an infectious spirit,

There was no immunity to your cheerfulness and wit.

All who knew you could say they were blessed,

To be adored by one who displayed so much zest.

Your heart was weak, but love so strong

And now you’re dancing to the Creator’s unique song.

He has raised you up to your resting place in everlasting peace,

To where the radiance of His Masterpiece will never cease.

In my house 

In my house

Love is the key 

To many things
In my house

Respect is the mirror of reflection

You will always see
In my house

Kindness opens every door
In my house

Step in to a world of forgiveness , fun and fantasy 
In my house

Make your self comfortable 
Because 
In my house 

Your heart is my home 

The recipe 

The kitchen counter 

Finally clean 

Years of

Mixing

Chopping

Sifting 

Baking in between 
All important reasons 

Nourished and sweetened 

Indulgence and somtimes lean

  

For many years

I hated this place 

Time spent nurturing and everything in between  

 
The kitchen 

Extra work

Now a place of solitude

Memories and time together 

Laughter tears and more 

The recipe to hold and treasure 

Unwritten but remembered 

My now

Forevermore 

Heartstrings 

 
 Heartstrings

A master puppeteer 

Grasping at memories 

Longings held near

Unanswered questions 

Love gone astray

Moments forgotten 

Now rekindled again

Where do we turn

When silence drifts away 

Holding the moments 

Heartstrings 

The Master plays 

The day after

The day after

It was just another day

As I am a

Watcher

Men trying hard to please

Children dressed and smiling pretty

Women waiting to see

What gifts the day would bring

I sat and thought

About my life

Children their milestones

What they meant to me

Without expectation

Devoting moments

A lifetime for others

Now a distant past

The little cards and hearts

Flowers and kisses

Did they understand

The effect it had on me

They are grown

on their own

accountable for only themselves

Yet they took the time

To call, text and come by

That’s all I really need

To give life

Nuture and watch grow

Not knowing what will be

A gift without expectation

A smile from them

The loveletter
I cherish
through my eternity

Today

 Today

I am the poem
Loving ordinary
The scent of roses
Makes my pulse quicken
 
Listening to silence
Behind these eyes
Knowing this is where
Beauty Hides
 
Craving the kiss
That tastes your soul
 
Caressing life
I am the poem 

  

offline.

the sacred road

i thought
that i had
long outgrown
playground fights
and words
of stone.

but it seems
the yard
has changed
past rusted swings
and childhood games.

the school ground
now spans
moons
and tides
as the world
grows flat
and oh so
wide.

stylized script
across
blankets of time
brings a plethora
of faces
searching to find…

purpose
and laughter
as an escape
from isolation
only to find
a war of
narcissistic
inundation.

a popularity contest
in which all
are set to
lose,
yet it becomes
a vessel of
validation
so hard to
undo.

so you find
pockets of moments
in which to
embrace
the rare
and pure connection
occasionally found
in such
space.

it’s a social experiment
in which we grow
to be confined –
a slave
to the intoxication
of being
online.

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c. 2015 b.l. ronan

#NaPoWriMo2015 #dayseventeen

image by tom lecuyer/southstreetcollective

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