Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The first warm spring day.

Shattered shells scattered around
Leftover fall leaves litter the lawn
Menacing mole trails meander endlessly
The first warm spring day.

Undaunted delicate daffodils ease up
Last summers weeds now are vibrant violets
Deciduous wood is now furry with buds
Breathe the life of spring.

Garden gloves now found, get going
Flower beds to free from leaf blankets
Weeping willow branches to gather and burn
A bead of sweat, water for the soul.

Aching back and strained tendons say stop
Take a walk in the night’s dusk air
Then find solace in the blossom of pink
A glass of rose raised to the day.

By Dave Schipper © 2009 Rose Riversongs

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Reality Slips in

"As he weaves thru the dance floor
Using moves from years gone by
They just don't know what's in store
A stud, a Clooney kind of guy

When reality slips in
You don't need to wait
For the booze to wear off
When reality slip in
He'll know he's up too late
And it's time to take off.

Reality slips in, slips in
As the dancers begin, begin
Love as sweet as sin, as sin
They will not lose again, no not again

As she dances with her girls so dear
Not a care if some think she's gay
They just bring her the right cheer
It's not he's available today.

When reality slips in
You don't need to wait
For a little fun and spice
When reality slip in
She'll dance til it's too late
She hears he's not nice.

Reality slips in, slips in
As the dancers begin, begin
Love as sweet as sin, as sin
They will not lose again, no not again

As they meet at the bar by chance?
No b.s. lines, they cut to the matter
Why don't they share a glass and dance
Age makes common sense sharper"

When reality slips in
You don’t need to wait
For a night so fine
When reality slip in
They’ll dance til it’s too late
And share some red wine.

Reality slips in, slips in
As the dance goes on, goes on
Love as sweet as sin, as sin
They did not lose again, no not again

Dave Schipper © 2008 Rose Riversongs

photo credit 2, 3 photo 1 Photo 4

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


Stereotypes are confirmed easily
An obese man at the Old Country Barfett
A fart conversation at a teen boy party
A cute thin woman at the natural food store
A curmudgeon old man who is a bore.

Stereotypes broken are harder
Catholics and Lutherans agreeing on Grace
A US President with an African face
Government spending that isn’t a hand-out
CEO’s who care a crap about ___.

I like to shatter stereotypes.
I am a conservative socialist.
I play guitar with an stiff wrist.
I eat healthy but drink cheap wine.
I’m an old fart who let’s his light shine.

by Dave Schipper (c) 2009 Rose Riversongs

photo credit

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Our Calling

For by grace we have been saved
Not by works, no one will boast.
We are God’s fine workmanship
Baptized in the Holy Ghost
All the gifts we have been blessed with
Are to share with one and all.
Now we all should heed his will
Look inside us and see our call

As we walk our daily journey
We bring with us all our gifts
Every trait we were endowed with
From our laughter to our wit
All the things that bring us pleasure
Were put right there from the start.
Now we all must heed our calling
Learn to share right from our heart

Daily tools which make our living
Are the ones the Lord approves
From every hammer , every keyboard
Bring a passion with Christ’s love
All the things that serve the Lord
At your fingertips each day
Now we all must heed our calling
Praise the Lord, whom we adore.

David Schipper © 2009 Rose Riversongs

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Just a dream

Determined to make it right
Though love was out of sight
And the touch of real flesh,
Just a dream.

The memory of her was fresh
Like a whisper of warm breath.
But now what to do next
Only dream?

He got out his pen to write her
But just stared at the paper
The hollowness took over
His own dream.

So where could she be right now?
“I love her” he said out loud
Yet no one heard him
Just his dream.

So instead he lost himself
In work and books on self-help
Love still did exist somewhere

By Dave Schipper © 2009 Rose Riversongs
Photo Credit 1 Photo2 Photo 3

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Angels are overrated...

Angels are overrated. 
Where are they when a love leaves?
Have they fended off a tease?
Yes, they have flair the dramatic,
But do they stand in the streets
Do they make a hand out complete?

I can see white in the face of blackness
Stand on walls without a harness
We are a people given freedom
But few find the map to kingdom

Spiritual high is verb.
Arms raised high can’t grasp truth.
Arms at their side have no proof.
At the heart is an old word
But does it hit home or just aloof
Does the meaning ring home as truth.

We see the heart of man and look away.
Metaphors of scenery our words sway.
Feel good, live today, peace today,
But few talk about death anyway.

Don’t look at me for answers.
I’m dust in an ancient wind,
Lost on the blue ball that spins.
What can do you but swear?
Your allegiance, your one and kind
Your love for all,, and all in your mind.

So overrated.

and tonight for the first time.... a reading by Dave...