Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Happy are those blessed by a love well lived for theirs is a life well loved. Who would forgo the fabrics of love? The smooth, well warmed silk of sensual love. The comfortable linen and flax of brotherly love. The … Continue reading →

When the trappings of Christmas are packed snug in their bins, keep remembering the Child born to save us from our sins.

Enoch walked, talking to his old friend, God, who asked, “So? How goes it?” (as if He didn’t know!) and Enoch answered, “How should it go? I’m fine.” And God said, “Want to come Home with Me?” And Enoch answered, … Continue reading →

He woke, startled, eyes wide, Yes, he was awake. The sepia dim of his curtained room only added to the disappointment in his mind. For in his dream, he had died. The deadly disease he had, had destroyed him. Now, … Continue reading →

It was the mornin’ after the night the Master came, dragged her to the empty cabin once again and, once again, he done it, when Tabatha went to John, her raging Man, not even husband, but loved, still, through all … Continue reading →

A masked mob of monsters marches to my door. Mahidabelle, our smiling witch, sits on our porch rocker, surrounded by fire grinning pumpkins. Red capped heroes, yellow minnions, gold crowned princesses, bleeding vampires, chain saw killers, mixed with a few … Continue reading →

Farm stands are sold out of pumpkins and corn. Ice cream stalls are hawking strawberry or peach or black cherry fudge in quart containers, half off for one, buy four get two free. Early frost and snow showers predicted this … Continue reading →

There is a post office with no dead letter box, on the border of space, receiving and sending letters from all creation, bungled by their feeble faith, and the Creator limited by His gift of freedom. But the mail handler … Continue reading →

Yellow roses, wilting, are beauty, none the less. Petals falling stir the air, wafting essences, mixing remaining scents with the pervading perfume of the universe: The oder of God.

The Hell with acceptance! Damn, resignation!! I’m pushing 68 with a worn down broom, but I’ll be dammed if I surrender to accumulating dust, cob webs in corners, pine needles on the porch! Spick and Span! That’s what they’ll see … Continue reading →