Luxury Ride, draft no. 11

Rain, wipers pulsing,

Echo deepest childhood slumber

My dad at the wheel

Good Things Come, draft no. 4

 For Calvin and Tori on their wedding day, May 26, 2026:

You’ve dated and grown

You’ve prayed; you’ve flown

Now the waiting part is done

Now the two have become one

This is the time you’ve dreamed of

This is the dawning of your love

Good has come to those who wait

What a fitting pair you make!

May each sunrise be better still

As you seek to do God’s will.

 

Love Mom/Mom Hunt

 

For: Marin and Julie, draft no. 3

Come with me for a wagon ride

Up and down on Peonies Drive

The pink peonies have started their show--

Let’s celebrate with dolls in tow!

Dodging rain drops, thunderclaps

Wearing tissue papered hats

There’s lavender lemonade and cake—more! More!

Learning about lupine from Miss Rumphius’ lore

One doll’s hat (almost) lost

One girl’s stroller cris and crossed

Some new friends were surely made--

Won’t you join me for next year’s Peony Parade?

Wedding Poem for Andrew and Caroline Romano, draft no. 1

So much love

So much devotion

May your love's flame 

Be the sort

Not put out by oceans

"Many waters cannot quench love." - Song of Songs 8:9

Wedding Rally with Steph and Lally, draft no. 8

 

4/20/26

For Nat and Steph, rough draft #8:

 

Wedding Rally with Steph and Lally

Chauffeured in style near and far

Bumper to bumper or fast as NASCAR

Robbin wedding to enjoy

Earplugs or coats to employ

Couldn’t leave until Marley was found

(Not even roused by vacuuming sounds)

Dreamer Diner breakfast virgins

Potty dreamer sibling reunions

Stops in Essex, pickleball classes

Northport shops, library craft packets

Dresses to decide

Gas pump rules to defy

The birds were chirping, the trees were blooming

The rain was circling, the cars were zooming

Even got to see Jeff, Rudy, Jill, and Dad.

So grateful to have been hosted by the Grillo fam.

Tithe Poem 3/29/26 draft no. 3

 “Donkey Sunday” sermon by Dan Jackson

By Jen Hunt

 

Secure in his man and Godhood

He rode into Jerusalem

A poetic and prophetic way,

On a tricycle, not a tank

 

He’s not hiding it any longer

He’s a king of a different sort

Some hitch their hopes to his title

Some reject the very thought

 

He entered humble, like a child,

But as he stepped into the ring

He sent Walmart tables flying

Proof that more than anything

 

God craved space for us

to talk with him

 

In the cleared courtyard

Will we kneel

Or thumb our noses

Becomes the choice

We’re now pos-ed

 

Secure in his God and manhood

He humbled himself on the cross

To show the way to God

To all of us who are lost.

Tithe Poem 3/22/26, draft no. 2, by Jen Hunt

What are you hiding from me, God?

Why the cleft rock? Why your backside only?

The trauma of the world leads me

To fear the hidden parts of you--

Fear that perhaps there’s a sliver of a cuff of you

That’s vile.

My guilt suspects you of evil,

Yet my guilt is the reason

I must be shielded from your glory,

Lest I perish.

I repent of my fear

And welcome your hand that covers me--

As Jesus’ death has done--

And sets me in this rock to see as much of your glory as I can take--

A glory that forgives my guilt and in forgiving becomes

More glorious still.

Basking in Your compassion and grace, 

I will live in your presence

Pardoned by Jesus’ death in my place

Now, from this crevice

Soon, face to face.

 

Based on Ligon Duncan’s sermon on Exodus 34:5-8