Another Poem for National Poetry Month

Summer in the South 

by Paul Laurence Dunbar 

The oriole sings in the greening grove 
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green, 
Timid and hesitating. 
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep 
And the nights smell warm and piney, 
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots 
Are yellow-green and tiny. 
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill, 
Streams laugh that erst were quiet, 
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue 
And the woods run mad with riot.

What a beautiful poem from a talented poet.

Do you have a favorite poem or poet? Who?

Let Them Sing!

Taken at Withrow Nature Preserve © Penny Frost McGinnis

Opening Day

opening day

the bats swing

baseball's in bloom


Does anyone else enjoy baseball? The Reds started the season with a win today. I've watched the Reds play since I was a little girl and still love the game. When I'm fortunate enough to attend a game in person, I love to watch the people along with the game. It's one of the most relaxing activities on my list.


What do you like to do to relax?

He lives!

It Blows Me Away

Luke 23:44-46
It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last.

Luke 24:36-39
While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and frightened, thinking they saw a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have.”

Thunder crashed in the distance, dark skies repelled daylight, and rain pelted over the ground. Good Friday morning, I found myself thinking about the day Jesus died. As I drove in the downpour I wondered why God loved me so much. I'm not perfect like his son. I'm not even good all the time. Yet God sent his son as a sacrifice for my imperfections, my sin. Because he loves me.

That blows me away. Sometimes I can't even comprehend the difference Jesus made in my life. He lived as a human, died at the hands of sinners, and came back to life because he wants to pour his grace over anyone who chooses to believe. As Easter nears, I praise God for the resurrection of Jesus.

April is National Poetry Month

Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. I read many of his poems growing up and had to memorize this one in high school. 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening 
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know. 
His house is in the village though; 
He will not see me stopping here 
To watch his woods fill up with snow. 

My little horse must think it queer 
To stop without a farmhouse near 
Between the woods and frozen lake 
The darkest evening of the year. 

He gives his harness bells a shake 
To ask if there is some mistake. 
The only other sound’s the sweep 
Of easy wind and downy flake. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. 
But I have promises to keep, 
And miles to go before I sleep, 
And miles to go before I sleep.

He Has Risen

Penny Frost McGinnis