P P and M remembered
Spent summers listening to this versatile trio. They defined Folk Songs.
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In Mennonite Country
The Gentle Folk With buggies a-clopping And black attire Their roadside walk The flower tables And baking inspired. The sugar bush March And old German talk. The meeting house white And quilting delight.
Great Sermon. George Adam Smith
Tossed into a heap They have been Futile over the years Of trends following Clay brass wood Fashioned by the artisan. Selfish imaginings Self importance Self consciousness. As if man had made His own gods Of pick and choose. Conveniently sought out Fleeing sterling Doctrine Going instead to a buffet Of current excitements Titillating And fed impetus By agents of The Enemy Little children Flee from idols Of any sort. Photo by Cindy Garnett
E Chord Joy fits tight in the hand
I caress the instrument Lovingly. E chord Given by my Son. Has already offered the likes of South of the Border Sloop John Bee This is My Father’s World Oh What a Beautiful Morning. Ode to Joy. Busking harmonicas At F armers Market Or Rexall Pharmacy Or Walmart entrance. Or Town Square. A retirement thing Of late. You know, Love Brings on frequency Brings on boldness Brings on sweet finesse. Brings on the Listeners. And happy engagement. Holy Spirit gets involved. His anointing and Muscle memory Astound me Had no idea. But pleased with the outcome. People smile Give a thumb’s up Drop some coins, gladly. As everyone partakes of the Grace of Giving. The day becoming Brighter. The chores becoming lighter. Probably a four hour gig. More, if the Sun/Son stays.
Hilary moves to different Care Facility
Bright spacious comforting. At Freeport Hospital. Pioneer Terrace room 309. https://photos.app.goo.gl/sPD3unRF7gixzEry5