Monday, November 19, 2007

Another Third Degree

Once again the drama unfolds
Parts are played and lessons told

A Brother enters - hoodwinked, unaware
Of what fell doings will happen there.

He need not fear, the Craft is kind.
‘tis a great lesson which he will find.

The Obligation is taken yet one more time
and still another vow is made.

Since ancient times Brothers learn and grow
This sacred mystery to know.

To learn to be a Master subduing all strife
Brothers helping Brothers throughout life

No secrets here - the truth is for all to know
To study, to learn, and always to grow.

To find God’s reward at the end of the search
A Master Mason, a Brother, a true friend each.

Lodge is a school and our life a study, we work together and once again
The drama unfolds, parts are played and we learn to be men.

Friday, November 9, 2007


Wraped in my terry cloth robe,

Reclining on my chair.

Bailey climbs up and stretches out against my leg.

Cassie (cat) carefully positions herself on my shoulder like a fur wrap.

And Max (not to be left out) comes and stands beside me and whuffles to have his ears scratched.

It's nap time and how could I be more content?

The world can go on by while my friends and I recline together.  Perfect!

November 9, 2006

Saturday, November 3, 2007


I always thought of Pigeons as “rat birds”

Hanging around everywhere – sitting and shitting on everything.

But they were kinda pretty. Iridescent feathers that caught the light just right.

We used to have lots of pigeons.

I wonder where they have gone.

November 3, 2007

Driving across Iowa on Highway 30

November - clear, crisp day

Fall. You can still see the colors on the trees.

Iowa is not flat!

The Bohemian hills open vistas of Iowa beauty.

The mind edits out the garbage.
Rusty combines, wagons, telephone wires.
Some hidden midst the brush.

I can’t take a picture because they would ruin it.
That is all you would see.

Sometimes the “garbage” is really very beautiful.
A barn falling down, weathering away.
A pile of brush. Waiting for the sacrificial burn.

Telephone poles line the road. Their crosses remind me of Spartacus

Crucifixions carried out - evenly spaced - along the Roman road.

He wanted freedom.

Iowa is free.

Iowa is beautiful.

Just look!