Pathway in the Sea

Ever see a butterfly flutter by? John 3:7-8


Psalm 77:19

Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known.



"The best way to show that a stick is crooked is not to argue about it or to spend time denouncing it, but to lay a straight stick along side it."

-D. L. Moody

Friday, December 08, 2006

Ta-ta to Tahoe. A travelogue in verse.

"Trust Jesus".Wayside sign aligned with design of Yuletide getaway, hoping for snow.
Slush freezes. Water drops falling bear ice as we rise to our place of winter retreat.
Jittery feet. Hope becomes dread as tread releases grip, wheels slip, beats skip.
Dive for cover. Peace of mind found behind 18-wheeler, a careful pace keeps our place in line.
Arrival. Lovers check in at Cottage Inn sitting pretty at Tahoe City as rain turns to snow on cue.
Change shoes. Hush puppies yield to boots made for snow, frosty mush, yuppies even know, chills feet, ruins fun.
Morning sun! A walk to shore calls for more, and we take the 89 on a southerly line, praise and thanks to God inspired.
Chains required.Rumbling hum-thumping over roads wet with the threat of vanishing snow.
Falls pine-spired. Water tumbling run-jumping over rocks bathing, surprised, snow- clothes out of reach.
Emerald beach. Still waters caressing winter splendor as they pass it upturned to thirsty eyes.
Filmy skies. Rider second-guessing driver wrestling with questions of the road.
Nerves erode. Outside,temps rise. Wise, tight lips unfooled, inside, temps cool.
On schedule. Horse-drawn sleigh hauls away despond over the meadow, through the woods.
Damaged goods. Import sedan wasn't planned for alpine travel, slushy gravel squirts thru body panel.
Surf next channel. Quarter slots prove no sluts to passing fancy, keep on pants-y.
Six wagered, not chance-y. Starbucks downed around town in search of parking.
Art sharking. Darting from gallery to larcenous gallery dodging reps, they scents no cents, avert.
Revert to feed-mode. Go drive-about to Chevy's to redeem fresh-mex scrip for sizzling shrimp and pork confections.
Which direction? Return to roost, the day a boost to soul and spirit, non-arsonous hearth ablaze.
Baleful gaze agraze in vintage VHS, "The Patriot" frees the colonies, Martin and Candy are dandy mismanaging travel.
Accommodations unravel with breakfast. Eggs and sausage augment mouthfuls of potatoes punctuating talk of home and road with strangers.
Donner dangers? Brave the pass of cannabalistic despair and dare to motor chainless. The pass is snow- but not rain-less.
Ta-ta, Tahoe!

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