Archive | September 2012

Sifting Through It

I longed to hold around my neck

 

dear mom’s parting token.

 

Through trinket boxes from the past,

 

my fingers failed to find the choker.

 

Depression was setting in,

 

perspiration dripped with each new drop,

 

Determination was truly my friend.

 

My mind retraced yesterday’s steps,

 

leading me around like a magic map.

 

There were no traces or places I had not seen,

 

I thought there certainly must be little hope,

 

God had to know what I had done with it,

 

But home alone, He must have laughed.

 

As He watched me frolic and fray,

 

I separated ever thing ,each and every tissue

 

that wiped away the feudal tears,

 

And there the timely token gleamed its face

 

There were no words left for me to say,

 

Too much in life we think might very well be just trash,

 

Sifting through it, Life is full of hidden treasures.

This entry was posted on September 28, 2012, in daily life.

A Special Birthday, John

Lots of walks and talks forty years ago about the birth of a child

Doctors told me it couldn’t happen, all medical test said in their own style

But God never gives up on our hopes or dreams, have no doubts

He holds your prayers and your faith brings action that comes about.

At age 40 I learned that I would be a mother of a son

The impossible was possible by God and what he had done.

So today through trials and situations that have kept you strong

Knowing God is with you always walking with you right along,

Hope is not having, but hope is always believing in the impossible,

Trusting the promise that “With God all things are always possible.

So enjoy your birthday, thank God for send you from heaven above,

Enjoy His life’s plan for you sent with so much grace and His love.

       God continues the rest of your story John, and know He will.

One More Harvest

One More Harvest

the dried fields sparkle like glistening gold

and dance in the wind, their warm hands to hold.

Land richly blessed to bring in the crops that were put to bed,

Feeding us all our daily bread.

The old man, weathered like the ground he cleaned,

grasps the strong stem, its shadow is mirrored.

A tear trickles down his rugged, worn, red face.

The conversations heard, never to erase.

The tired farmer kneels holding a clod of the sacred land,

As the field touched his palm and his heart once again.

Knowing one more harvest may bring sorrow,

He asks, “Who will be left to feed the world, tomorrow?”

Colds and Good health

I like the cold, the codes, but not the common cold,

That is something all people hate, I have been told.

The cold makes us snuggle up to keep cozy,

Codes when we decoded them make life rosy.

Then the miserable cold we wish would go,

Makes us appreciate what good health is about,

Here’s hoping, colds won’t be a total blow out.

So enjoy good health, maybe a flu shot too,

May good health always be with you.