Camp Meeting Week, Ocean Grove, NJ

My husband Bob and I just returned from a weekend away at Ocean Grove at the Jersey Shore, otherwise known as "God's Square Mile". A bonus to the weekend was that our pastor, Rabbi Jonathan Cahn, of Beth Israel Worship Center, Wayne, NJ, and author of "The Harbinger" and "The Shemitah" was the guest preacher in the Great Auditorium on Sunday morning. He delivered a rousing sermon entitled, "Handwriting On The Wall" to usher in the 145th Annual Camp Meeting Week in the grove.

Rabbi Jonathan Cahn     Photo Credit: dailystorm.com

Several years ago, while vacationing in Ocean Grove, I wrote a poem in honor of Camp Meeting Week. I'd like to share it with you now.

The Great Auditorium, Ocean Grove, NJ
Photo Credit: joeiovino.com

CAMP MEETING WEEK

An hour and a world away

is a charming place we love to stay,

where time stands still a little while,

in fact, some call it, “God’s Square Mile.”

Our spiritual retreat vacation

at this gem within our nation

is where we find more than we seek,

at Ocean Grove, Camp Meeting Week.

The Great Auditorium’s surrounded

by quaint tent houses, abounded

by flower gardens, every hue;

coral, magenta, lavender blue.

Great preachers come from far and near,

expectant pilgrims come to hear

the preaching and angelic choir

as the great pipe organ sends its fire

of resounding music through the air,

inviting all who will to prayer.

All this takes place beside the sea

in a grove of sweet tranquility.

Stroll tented lanes in ocean breeze,

past tabernacle, B & Bs;

Victorian landmarks give a show

of “painted ladies” row on row.

Visit eateries, little stores

and take the garden trolley tour.

This Jersey shore town gives to each

respite, chapels, sandy beach,

a quiet boardwalk and pavilion,

where perhaps, more than a million

over the years have stopped and heard

Gospel concerts and God’s good Word.

So come, find more than you may seek

at Ocean Grove, Camp Meeting Week.

Maude Carolan Pych

Celebrating Summer With a Poem...

A summertime pleasure...butterflies dancing in the sky!

Photo Credit: philsantamaria.com

 SKY DANCERS

There's something happy about butterflies.

They flit-flitter as they flutter by,

flying flowers against the azure sky.

They alight upon the milkweed, and then

they circle, soar and alight again,

toe-dancing on pink petals in the glen.

Ever dwelling in hue and sweet fragrance,

in garden splendor they flicker as they dance.

Pollination is purely happen-stance.

I delight in their overflow of joy.

(They wouldn't even know how to be coy.)

A flame of mirth! A whirligig! A toy!

Do they recall they once were grubby worms,

remember well their dark and squiggly squirms?

Reborn, now grace and beauty each affirms!

This almost seems to be sheer fantasy,

sky dancers as enchanting as can be,

springing from blossoms right in front of me!

So, merrily a-nectaring they go,

reaping and sowing sweetness in day-glow…

Seems they have learned what all of us should know.

In contemplation of their simple ways,

I wish to add their ballet to my days,

to sky dance Heavenward on wings of praise!

Maude Carolan Pych

Missing the Monarchs...

Photo Credit: fineartamerica.com

Have you seen a monarch this summer? I haven't and I miss them. I read in "The Record" newspaper this week that the monarch butterfly population is dwindling greatly and that it's likely because weed killers are destroying the milkweed plants necessary for their survival. Environmentalists are planting milkweed in the hope of saving the butterflies and increasing their population again.

My poem, "There Used to be Butterflies in New Jersey" follows. It is one of my earliest poems, a true recollection of a day, probably around 1977, when hundreds of monarchs surprised us by suddenly appearing on Cupsaw Lake beach in Ringwood, NJ.

Let us hope we will see God's fanciful and beautiful winged creations fill the air with "tangerine profusion" again.

Photo Credit: wired.com

There Used To Be Butterflies in New Jersey

I remember the day the monarchs held court

on Cupsaw Beach

And filled the air with tangerine profusion

As they soared and danced

with natural choreography.

There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.

They haven’t left completely,

But I see fewer every year

And miss their lilting frivolity,

color and grace.

Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,

And was gifted with more species than I know,

The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.

Praise God,

they simply filled my heart with joy

As they danced with gay abandon

among the wildflowers.

They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings

As resplendent in hew as the blooms

They landed momentarily upon, then sprang

Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.

Maude Carolan

!!!Now is the Time for Fireworks!!!

Photo Credit: webexibits.org

UNCLE KEVIN & THE FIREWORKS

For Logan

Mid-June and through July

especially weekend evenings

the nighttime sky erupts

with intermittent flashes of firelight

and thunderous booms—

Fireworks over Erskine Lake

Ringwood, New Jersey

Summer, 2007

Grandma puts 3 ½ year old Logan to bed

when a sudden deafening blast

shakes the bedroom

(or so it seems)

Logan reaches for her arm

and says, I'm scared

Of that? asks Grandma

tousling his dark brown hair

Let me tell you a story

about Uncle Kevin

when he was a little boy

not very much older than you…

Not far from here

there's a grassy meadow

we call, "Sally's Field"

Our family went there

at the end of every summer

to watch a big display of fireworks

We put blankets down

and sat and gazed upward

as brilliant fiery flashes

burst in the darkness

We oooohed and ahhhhed

at their vibrant beauty

as we watched the sky in awe

but it was Uncle Kevin

who liked the booms best of all—

He'd stand up

and wait for a thundering boom

then he'd clutch his chest

as if he were shot

(Uncle Kevin watched too many

cowboy movies, I guess)

then he'd fall to the ground

and laugh

then he'd stand up

wait for the next big boom

clutch his chest

fall to the ground

and laugh

then he'd stand up

wait for the next big boom

clutch his chest

fall to the ground

and laugh

Sleepyhead Logan asks Grandma,

Why did he laugh?

She replies, Because Uncle Kevin

likes big! bang! booms!

Two weeks pass

Grandma tucks her grandson in again

Again, a fireworks boom rocks the house

Again, Logan reaches for Grandma

I'm scared

Again, she says, Let me tell you

a story about when Uncle Kevin

was a boy

This time Logan perks up and says

Uncle Kevin heard, 'Boom!'

Logan puts his little hands

over his chest, remembering…

He fell down

Then what happened, asks Grandma

Then he laughed, says Logan

with a grin

Grandma lingers at his bedside

while Logan drifts off to sleep

then kisses him softly

on his forehead and whispers,

God bless you. I love you. Goodnight.

Maude Carolan Pych