Joy in Joblessness

He was feeling mighty glum
when he shuffled through the door,
for his job and his income
were now vanished and no more.

Shedding tears, he told his wife
how the boss had called him in,
so, henceforth, their fiscal life
would be looking super thin.

But she cheered him with a kiss
and reminded him that they
had survived things just like this.
then she told him of her day.

She had made another sale
and was well above the norm,
so her boss had raised her scale.
God would help them through this storm.

She reminded him, their kids
were both healthy and well fit,
that they now had three grandkids
and the family was close knit.

In the weeks which then ensued,
up until he got rehired,
joyous hours with them accrued:
the great times he had desired.

In the years that he had left,
he quite often would recite
that those weeks of joblessness
were the best times of his life.



Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

At a Beach Town Wedding

Rick and Krisynda Collins

In Galveston, folks sometimes say that life's a beach.
This metaphor, not just cliché, has much to teach,
for married life has parallels to seashore days:
the wind and calm, the waves and swells, the golden rays.

You watch the children laugh and play beneath the sun.
They'll surf a wave (or web) all day, to make their fun.
You're there to bandage every wound and salve each pain,
to counsel when they feel marooned or spirits wane.

In daily life, you sometimes swim among the sharks.
A partner makes things not so grim and shares your heart.
And when you need to stand your ground on shifting sand,
it's best to have a friend around, a helping hand.

As you two walk along life's strand, look often back.
Observe the trace left in the sand, three sets of tracks.
You may not see Him every day, but He'll be there,
prepared to help and guide your way, to answer prayer.

You'll build your castle artfully, the home you crave,
and then protect it tirelessly from every wave.
At length, when comes the last sunset of married life,
you'll watch together, no regret, as man and wife.



Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.