Pink Mouse Pub

POETRY BY:  GERALD BOSACKER           WE ARE PLANTING A tiny seed is wishful sown in God’s hungry, eager earth. It germinates, not on its own, since warming sun must beg its birth.   If its roots reach deep enough in somewhat loosened common dirt, it nurtures from soil’s rotting duff and comes alive in mystic spurt.   Our relationships are just like this, and we expect, they fervent grow. Dark clouds bestow sweet moisture’s kiss, but can’t control what fates bestow.   As with anything that’s sown, there comes a harvest we must reap. Sometimes only weeds are grown and we must learn which crop to keep.   Have you visited G. Bosacker's work place, yet? Sample his nine books at http://www.bosackerbooks.com
Gerald Bosacker studied journalism, but found success as a graphic arts salesman, which evolved through serendipity and pandering to his superiors, into a Vice Presidency of an international corporation, a role neither deserved or greatly appreciated. Early retirement, an unskilled and naive victim of corporate politics, provided opportunity for his first love of weaving words into meaningful poetry. Starting late, Bosacker churns out tons of poetry, and displays them pro-bono, hoping for acclamation or bare acceptance, while he is still mortal.