The Truth

You can not fool old people, dogs or children
You can not wear your heart on your sleeve
You can not fake love and emotion
You can not force a man to believe.

Love is the key to our future
Love is the path we must seek
For love is the fruit of our teaching
Whether young ,whether old, whether meek.

Old people need our laughter
Dogs need a pat and a bone,
But children need love, unconditional love
Or our world won’t stand on its own.



A sunflower seed floats
on the warm bubbling puddle
Seeking a harbor in the June shower.
She moves swiftly over the singed summer grasses
Choked by the dust from a month of drought.
Mother Earth waits patiently
to caress and nurture the future sunflower.

She was recklessly thrown by a novice gardener
On the dry, unforgiving soil.
Many days have passed with no rain.
The burning sun has all but scorched the very life from the withered seed.
Her wrinkled skin now stretches, drinks from the puddle
And spins merrily
Seeking a place to blossom.


Red, white and blue hair
Stars and stripes painted on large bank buildings
Tiny white lights in millions of windows at Christmas
Or one single, tiny light shining all year long
In order to honor the loss of a loved one.

The Star Spangled Banner sung by a
Choir of cherubs from Harlem
The Boston Pops Chorale at Easter
Red hearts tattooed on the arms
Of backhoe operators
Or strung on the walls of the
Local elementary school.

Red and yellow arches
Along every major highway
A lemonade stand on an old country road
Manned by laughing children in Osh Kosh bib overalls
A Ford truck with a large dog in the back.

Vegetable stands manned by 80 year old men
Who still mend wicker and make their own wine
Harley hogs, Carter togs, Tupperware, totem poles
Burger King crowns and senior prom, a ’57 Chevy with a glass pack
Volkswagen Bugs, mountain tops, desert flowers and sunny shores.

America, the land I love! 


A golden spear strikes
from the sky
With fierce abandon ;
eagles cry.
All nature’s beasts
have huddled close
For heavens now
have sent a host
Of raucous raindrops
pouring down.

It’s ah, so peaceful,
although the sound
Of thunderbolts hurled
towards the earth,
Ignite the sky
give poets birth!





Dear heavenly Father,

I pause here to say
The breathe of this morning
Announces a day
Of sunshine and breezes
That show me the way
To Nature’s pure beauty
A love song is played
Thank you,


How soft a day can be
When God is with thee
It is the spring
A time he paints so splendidly
When church bells ring
Ever so beautifully

Life to death and from it life
It is Christ who cures all strife
“Peace on Earth,
Good will towards men”
A day of aqueous rebirth
A day for beloved kin

At the pew I sit and stay
With nothing but time and penance to pay
But soon, yes so soon
My heart, my mind beyond the moon
To the celestial heavens
Where unto me God beckons
To be his servant, faithful and true

At sermon’s end I begin to tremble
No longer can my thoughts assemble
Before the alter I begin to kneel
Anxiety’s pierce, cold like steel
Then the water cascading down
The fear retreating now

“Rise in communion,” are the words I hear
With fellow believers drawn near,
I am reborn with God
No longer do I feel the angel’s prod
I am filled with grace and love

How soft a day can be
When God is with thee
It is the spring
A time he paints so splendidly
When church bells ring
Ever so beautifully

Reborn in his light
A Renaissance in my own right

Written by Waco James Battle Horne 2016
(my grandson)





Echoes of a time I knew
When all you said was kind;
Your words were music to my ear
With meaning and with rhyme.

Now the joyful roar of laughter
And the words once spoken here
Are merely echoes of the past
And like sound, have disappeared.

Lonely echoes of the driving wind
And the drumming of the sea
Are the friends that I now listen to
As I set my solace free.

The laughter of a nuthatch
And the chirping of a finch
Are the friendly sounds that comfort me
When in loneliness, I’m drenched.