Category Archives: dreaming

TIME TO CONFESS AND REPENT

AUTHOR’S NOTE:  He’s not trying to grandstand—just admit to his guilt of certain motives and conduct and ask forgiveness of those he has wronged–whether or not they feel they were.  It is a part of his Christian belief…being reconciled to God and the ones he has wronged asking forgiveness of both.  There is a Bible basis to all this, which the author believes by faith to be the transcribed word of God to be followed and obeyed.  Especially when he doesn’t!  Questions/Comments are always welcome.

Writer of poetry,

The “fashion” got away from me…

Chasing skirts

Many women hurts,

Of this I am guilty!

Sought “readers” unsuccessfully,

The hidden motive–to see…

What interested

Where saints shouldn’t tread

And pester them endlessly!

The many unreturned visits,

Prove out how wrong is it…

I know my sin

Repenting therein,

Stop this practice is the solution exquisite!

I will  stillreach out,

In subjects not ruled out…

Walk in the flesh

Heavily risks death,

Gotta pull some hot irons out!

The upshot–some I’ll follow–

The rest–if they visit tomorrow…

I’ll respond graciously

But not the pest–not me–

I’ve sinned–I repent in sorrow!

My actions toward those of whom I’ve spoken,

From now on–contact is broken…

This I must do

So they’ll feel safe too,

No need of me in their business poking.

–Jonathan Caswell

 

WHAT SAYS “NEW ENGLAND” ?

My model layout wanders it seems

Away from cherished themes…

What for you

Says “New England” too,

Beyond operational schemes?

 Does NISSEN BREAD,

MOXIE, barns red,

SPAGS and stores

With “colonial” decors,

Monuments to Revolutionary dead?

Dairies and granite quarries

In earlier days held stories…

Ice cream and views

Along the Turnpike count too,

And whaling ship stories!

Broad “a’s” in speech,

A Kennedy’s reach…

Where Plymouth Rock stays

And Sturbridge Village ways

Are preserved to history teach!

So for my small train set,

What industries are best…

Beverages and rock salt

Metals, food stuffs sought,

And historic touristy nests?

Gravel still travels by train,

Lumber and minerals same…

Environmental ire

Has dampened coal fired

Power plants, but garbage still flames!

A water-powered mill

And museum of trains fit the bill…

For small excursions

Of rich incursions into filling the local till!

Do you think I’ll have enough room,

I figure some things will die soon…

New England gives

And takes to live,

But survival cannot be assumed!

–Jonathan Caswell

ANYBODY LISTENING?

A tartan pencil skirt,

Is any out there alert…

Nice to see

Fashionably,

I remember a teacher so girt.

While strict, she had her charm,

Frequent knits to stay warm…

Knee-length hems

I considered gems,

A high-pitched voice when in alarm!

For a Junior High School boy,

Her outfits were sources of joy…

Modest, severe,

But oh what a year,

With some imagination…oh boy!

–Jonathan Caswell

BECKY**

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:  Name and circumstances changed to protect…the Author!

At a doctor’s office new to him,

Was coaxed by a welcoming wind…

Viscerally

His loins agreed,

On something he could not pretend.

All women his records reviewed,

By “Becky”** he was interviewed…

What can we say

Happened that day,

Or what the man construed?

Tingling in his loin muscles,

As if something need hustle…

Straight into being

A swell way of seeing,

The feelings he must tussle!

Becky–older but not old–

Formed in an attractive mold…

Dark red hair

All freckles were there,

Hands slightly wrinkled…but made of gold.

White lace skirt above the knee,

Smoothed down near constantly…

Lower affairs

Held enticing airs,

Blouse was brown in white polka dot seas.

Something in the way she asked

Her questions in doing her task…

All anticipating

Answers she was awaiting,

He openness wasn’t masked!

Highly welcome delights,

Gotten with Becky’s insights….

Tingles remained–

He never complained–

But kept himself in check and aware!  🙂

–Jonathan Caswell

STRANGE DREAMING

SOME STRANGE DREAMING!

Last night I did strange dreaming,

I’d done too many posts,

Burying my own works

Somewhere along the coast…

I could hear them from a distance

Above the ocean roar,

But I have surely done this

Many times before!

Oh…it’s practice not just dreaming

It’s very sad but true,

When I cannot keep up my end

I post more of “you”…

Been known to keep on burying

My own work the most,

Sometimes I think it is you-all

That I want to toast…

Sometimes I think it is you-all

That I prefer to toast!

😀

–Jonathan Caswell

(A parody of THE YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS…with good intent,)

<3 MY LOVE FOR LADY BLOGGERS! <3

❤     MY LOVE FOR LADY BLOGGERS     ❤

Avowed love of lady bloggers,

Hard-working creative bloggers…

I love thee all

For me you stand tall,

Driving us romantics bonkers!  🙂

Some of you are very fetching,

Appearance not all that’s catching…

The mind and heart–

Thy very art–

Draweth me to your fine meshings!

By word and artistic guile,

You make this creative man smile…

Cry and laugh

On your behalf,

Each in a wonderful style.

Long distance hugs the rule

In this community cool….

Cool in attitude

To not be rude,

Suggesting of anything cruel.

Group hugs all around,

My love to all of you found….

In likes and raves

From this former knave,

Who likes in whose company he’s found!

😀

–Jonathan Caswell

HARD-TO-HEAR HAIKU

HARD-TO-HEAR HAIKU

(Adult Topic)

Become impotent

His fading manhood laments…

But what is inside?

-JEC

Little feeling left,

No place left to vent the ache…

Must thinking change, too?

–JEC

Engorgement all gone,

Being faithful accepts lack…

No one left to love.

–JEC

How to love without?

Can a man still be a man”’

His woman knows that!

–JEC

Appreciates form,

Less likely liquid lusting…

Why keep the old ways?

–JEC

Is safer this way…

For all women that he sees,

Much less threatening!

–JEC

Power lust remains,

That…no non-phallic can cure…

Bad apples near tree.

–Jonathan Caswell