“Hold my hand, Poppy.”
The sweetest words ever heard
on my daily stroll.
Bruce Stambaugh
August 19, 2011
Category: poem
Marshy field
Beside oat soldiers
squads of geese, ducks and shorebirds
glean the marshy field.
Bruce Stambaugh
August 16, 2011
Aviary gleaning
Swallows encircle
the farmer and his mower,
a whirling harvest.
Bruce Stambaugh
July 30, 2011
Wren haiku
Warbling mother wren,
fledglings rattle from gourd house.
Satisfaction reigns.
Bruce Stambaugh
July 29, 2011
Compassion haiku
Compassion is not
fully understood until
it’s humbly received.
Bruce Stambaugh
June 12, 2011
Flower forecasting
When the French lilacs
start to bloom in Ohio
frost is a good bet.
Bruce Stambaugh
May 3, 2011
A mess of morels
It was quite the haul.
I found the first mushroom and
my son the other.
Bruce Stambaugh
April 29, 2011
The politics of Jesus
Notice that Jesus
rode a donkey, not an elephant,
into and out of his earthly life.
Bruce Stambaugh
April 13, 2011
Wayne on Wayne
My wife and I
stayed in a bed and breakfast
in Waynesboro on Wayne St.,
and the owner’s name was Wayne.
I couldn’t, no I wouldn’t make this up.
Bruce Stambaugh
March 29, 2011
Supermoon haiku
Don’t miss the big, bright
Supermoon tonight at dusk
rising in the east.
Bruce Stambaugh
March 19, 2011
Roadkill Crossing 
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