2003 2TheHeart Poetry Contest Winners & Prizes:

1st Place: $50, a 2TheHeart "Fun Pack" (T-Shirt, bumper sticker and 2TheHeart candy bar), "2003 Poet's Market" book, award certificate, and publication on 2TheHeart.com awarded to... Ronnie Bray!

2nd Place: 2TheHeart "fun pack", award certificate and publication on 2TheHeart.com awarded to... Mary-Ellen Grisham!

3rd Place: 2TheHeart T-Shirt, award certificate and publication on 2TheHeart.com awarded to... Linda Newman!

Finalists:  2TheHeart bumper stickers and publication on 2TheHeart.com.

Mary-Ellen Grisham (2), Linda Newman (2), Kathy Norris, Diane Martin, Kathy Monge

Honorable Mentions: receive publication on 2TheHeart.com (This page)

Francine Aubrecht, Ronnie Bray, Marcie Joy Brown, Barbara Elliott-Carpenter, Roger Cook, Nora Davenport (2), Leona Ebling, Mark Ellis/John Wood, Mary-Ellen Grisham, Nancy Julien-Kopp, Linda Lufkin, Roberta McQueen (2), Kathy Norris (2), Bobby Smith, Lindsie Weidman, Les M. Willson (2)

 

First Place Poem!

 

Heart to Heart 
by Ronnie Bray
 
 
In sunfilled summers of our salad days
We wandered, hand in hand, the two of us;
Alone in all the world, and not a care
To hide the sun.
 
In later years we held our children close,
And looked into each others eyes
Smiling our knowing smiles,
That told us love was real
 
You stroked my greying head and spoke;
Still soft and loving, making me feel then
As I felt when we laughed our first lovelaugh
That bound us close.
 
And when I knew that you would leave me soon,
You smiled to tell me I should not be sad,
But count the many hours and dayfilled years
Locked in our hearts
 
You spoke last words with tear-dimmed eyes
That closed too soon before my words were said,
Or my last kiss upon your cooling cheek
Could make you smile.
 
In misting memories we walk again,
Still hand in hand, and laughing yet as if
The years rolled back to sunfilled skies again.
And you and I one life.
 
Still, in the single heavy hours I spend,
Though we no longer can speak face to face,
Still we speak soul to soul, love speaks to love,
And heart to heart.
 
Copyright Ronnie Bray

 

 

Second Place Poem!

 

Summer's Comforter 
by Mary-Ellen Grisham
 
Afterglow in orange and pink,
Wispy clouds slipping down
To a gold and flame horizon,
Grays and purples of dusk
Falling around in silence--
A presence enfolds me
As I rock on grandma's porch.
 
Slow, dry scratches of crickets,
Running staccatos of katydids,
Repeating ebb and flow of locust rhythms--
Monotonous, insistent, and sorrowful,
As darkness falls in velvet silence,
The warm air lit by pinpricks
Of lightning bug light.
 
Drowsing, near dreaming,
I imagine fairy dances and magic light
In the black, somber hues of night.
The rustling of giant cottonwoods
Bringing a windfall of white puffs
From trees ages older than I,
As I rock on grandma's porch.
 
My soft sleep blends with the breezes--
Cloaking cloths of purple dusk,
Sad, slow ebb of locust sounds,
Dancing points of swirling light,
Fluffy puffs of cotton fall,
Gentle presence of warm night,
As I rock on grandma's porch.
 
Copyright Mary-Ellen Grisham
 
 
 
 

Third Place Poem!

 

Now You've Grown
by Linda E. Newman

Your room is always clean now,
Your beds are neatly made,
Stuffed animals line the shelves two by two;
And traces of your childhood
Have long ago been banished
To dusty boxes in an attic zoo.

Mealtimes are quite peaceful now,
With no more screams or cries
Of "I don't want to eat my broccoli!"
And no more milk gets spilled now,
And I no longer hear,
"Hey! That's not fair! She has more cake than me!"

The evenings are so long now,
With all that solitude--
No loud TVs or slamming of the door;
There's no more fuss o'er homework,
Or bedtime hassles now,
Or toothpaste on the bathroom walls or floor.

My life is very ordered now,
Just like  I've always dreamed,
My walls are free of fingerprints and crayons;
My phone is free to use now
Whenever I desire,
My floors are free of cookie crumbs and sand.

Then why is there this yearning,
This ache within my soul?
At night a baby's coo still wakens me;
Those adolescent turmoils
Are just illusion now,
And childish laughter just a memory.

Why did I ever want you to grow up?

Copyright Linda Newman  GramLin99@aol.com

Finalist Poems!
THE PRISONER 
 
He sits behind the prison walls,
In a room so cold and gray.
He tries to reach out for his dreams,
But...the bars are in his way.
 
His heart is full of sorrow.
His head hangs down so low.
His eyes are filled with sadness,
And tears that freely flow.
 
Sometimes he shuts his eyes and dreams,
Of blue and sunny skies.
Running through fields of new spring grass,
Where his dreams can never die.
 
He wonders if he'll ever have
Those happy times again.
When he can work and play
and make...
Good memories with friends.
 
He knows that somewhere he went wrong,
And he has dues to pay.
But he holds to a little ray of hope,
To help him through each day.
 
Though his life seems filled with misery,
Loneliness, and deep despair.
It can all be lifted from him,
By Our Father's loving care.
 
He can wrap His arms around him,
And say, "My child I'll take you in,
I'll forgive you, love and guide you,
And I'll always be your friend."
 
His heart will then be joyful.
He'll lift his head so high.
He'll raise his eyes toward The One
On whom he can rely.
 
Copyright Kathy Norris
 
 
 
 
Hills of Gold
 
The Dr.'s chilling voice
Cut through the air with fact
You will not live beyond the year
No longer lives entwined, intact.
 
And now this day your earthly heart
Has stopped its beating strong.
You have joined the Saints above,
The goal for which we long.
 
Can I describe the hurt
Of being left behind?
The sad times mixed with good times
All are brought to mind.
 
Broken promises
    Our evening walks
        The sharing of a dream;
Renewed love
    Cherished memories
        Forever we're a team!
 
And now...
    And now...
I'm left alone
No voice
No touch
No telephone.
 
Why have you gone?
Come back to me!
My heart screams out in pain...
And then I know some day in Heaven
We will meet again.
 
There is so much of life unlived;
Can I go on alone?
I have to walk it day by day
Through paths as yet unknown.
 
But this I know
It's very clear...
My heart sings out through pain...
I am his and he is mine
Till we are God's again.
 
Some day, my love,
My time will come...
I'll hear the Voice that called you Home--
Clear and soft, yet strong the tone...
I, too, will know the dreams we shared
Were only ours on loan.
 
And when our paths cross once again,
I'll know the joy of no more night;
I'll sing I made it through the rain,
To sunshine, rainbow bright.
 
I'll place my hand in God's each step..
    Faltering...
        Then bold!
Our lives are lived by faith, for
We are not promised hills of gold
But wondrous stories yet untold.
 
Copyrright Diane Martin
 
 
 
 
Aubade
 
At dawn, a radiant wash of color blooms along the horizon
Blues and purples recede before golden orange and shades of peach
Cries of birds winging through coral mist call the day
Doors open for that precious sweetness of a new morning
Every blade of grass is drenched with crystal dew
Fat robins pace the turf listening for worm rustles below--
God is so good and the earth shows forth His handiwork!
 
Half the day is gone before the morning rush is done
Immanent freshness lingers in early afternoon shadows
Jasmine and honeysuckle perfume the languorous hours
Kindred spirits lounge in cushioned lawn chairs
Laughter drifts through the trees like gentle breezes
Maples turn silvered leaves toward fragrant magnolias
Nectar draws the bees humming toward the source,
Opiate sweetness of flowers swaying sleepily in lengthening shade.
 
Patterns of evening sunlight play across the lawn
Quickening the colors, freshening the peaceful landscape
Recalling the resilience and wonder of the early morn
Silence and shadow settle over the fields and hills
Tantalizing colors touch cloud and sky with scarlet blush
Undulating grasses whisper in the growing dark
Variations of purple and indigo clothe the velvet night
Wisps of white cloud nudge moon and star
Xyloid clusters of branch in forests glow white in moonlight
Yet another day slips through the soundless midnight while
Zigzags of gray light bring promise of another pearl-like dawn.
 
Copyright Mary-Ellen Grisham
 
 
 
 
Teach Me Lord

When fear and darkness cause my soul to grieve,
When hope is gone and I have lost my way,
When deepest doubt upon my mind does lay,
Come to me, Lord, and teach me to believe.
When hatred rains like hail from skies above,
And Satan's legions fall upon my back,
And in my heart compassion do I lack,
Come to me, Lord, and teach me to have love.
When storms descend upon me without cease
And sorrow throws a veil across the sun;
When life is such there's nowhere left to run,
Come to me, Lord, and help me to find peace.
And when I feel my faith slipping away,
Come hold me, Lord, teach me once more to pray.

Copyright Linda E. Newman
GramLin99@aol.com

 

Life Without You

After you left, I simply existed.
Now, I am starting to live again.

Life without you is a strange juggling act.
Gone are the endless days and sleepless nights.
I smile, I laugh, I celebrate the good times.
Every minute of every day used to be filled with
thoughts and memories of you.
Sometimes, in guilty amazement, I realize that I have
forgotten to miss you.

The pain is still here, but it is different.
It is no longer like a knife, sharp and unrelenting.
It is now a soft, dull ache.
It is always there.
It is my constant companion, but at times can be
ignored.

Each passing day the memory of your face becomes more
distant.
I remember the bad times with a shrug and a smile.
I remember the good times with a tear and a smile.

And I still wonder why it was decided that I am here
and you are gone.
You should have had more time to become a man and
leave childhood behind.


(This poem is in memory and is a tribute to my adopted
son, Bobby, who died suddenly from an undiagnosed
brain tumor when he was 13 years old.  I started
writing this poem a few weeks after he died, which was
eight years ago.  I put it away unfinished and
discovered it, tucked away, a few months ago.  I
completed it within a few minutes time.) 
   

copyright Kathy Monge
kathy_monge@yahoo.com

 

Master Work
 
The carpenter's boy beheld the meager wood
In his father's shop, seeking to plane and hone
To suit the experienced eye, simple objects--
Shelves and cabinets, boxes and chests,
The lathe to shape and pare the emerging forms,
Shave, whittle, and chip, clean the inner workings,
Create for use, believe in outcomes, savor
The aromatic woods, sweet fragrances to soothe
The powerful urge toward completion, fruition,
With the touch of the master's hand.
 
The short gnarled olives trees in the garden
Provided soothing breezes for the brow
Of the Master who prayed with anguished plea,
Sweat like blood drops falling to the ground
Sacrifice of loving obedience to the Father
For honing and shaping lives of followers
Obedient to the example of the Savior
With arms spread wide on the rugged cross,
His love the flowering fruition of God's concern
For the hands and hearts who crafted
The wooden crossbeams of cruel pain,
Washing white the sins of man with His blood.
 
Copyright Mary-Ellen Grisham
 
 
 
Skipping Home
(to Mom, with love)


I loved to visit my grandmother's house,
I was never lonely there;
And for a short time, for an hour or two,
I knew that someone cared.

She was a Norman Rockwell Grandma,
Her gray hair filled with finger waves,
With laughing eyes and chubby cheeks,
Wearing a flowered housedress
Protected by an apron
That looped around her neck,
Curved over her ample bosom,
And tied around her stout waist.

I hated the days she had to work
At the Red & White.
I'd go to visit her
And she always gave me candy
Off the shelf.
And later, when I'd gone,
She?d fish the pennies out of her pocket
To pay for it.

Each day at 4 o'clock
I always went back to walk her home,
And she'd say,
"If you skip all the way home with me,
We'll have a tea party when we get there."
And she'd take my tiny hand
In her aged one,
And we would skip
All the way home.

Often when I'm feeling down,
I let my mind go back in time
And, once again, I take my grandma's hand
And skip down memory lane.

Then I sigh, and put the kettle on.

Copyright Linda E. Newman
GramLin99@aol.com

 

Honorable Mention Poems!
 
From Early Morn To Dark Of Night   
 
I wake at dawn's light
and rise to greet the day,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
Curtains flutter at my window,
birds trill a morning song,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
I shower and dress for the day,
make my bed and tidy up,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
Off to the grocery store,
chatting with friends,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
Meetings and books to return,
letter to write and mail to read,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
There is dinner to cook, and
family news to exchange,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
TV and a book on my lap,
at ten I climb into bed,
while war rages in Iraq!
 
I whisper prayers for our troops,
and a tear slips from my eye,
while war still rages in Iraq!
 
Copyright  Nancy Julien Kopp 
 
 
 
Purple Sacrifices
 
Eleven slender cups
Pale purple crocus blooms
Push up the dark earth--
Tender, delicate presence
Fresh with new life,
Misted by gentle rains
Brimming with moisture,
Such trembling vitality
In a world yet caught by winter
In a world prepared for war
Where eager life will last
A few brief, triumphant days
Before the darkness comes.
 
Copyright Mary-Ellen Grisham
 
 
 
The Garden of Prayer  

This morning I went to the garden of prayer,
And found my Lord waiting patiently there.
My greeting was met with a bouquet of love,
As He welcomed me back to heaven above.

"Dear Lord, forgive me," I faintly cried,
"For taking so long to come to your side.
I find myself busy with cares of my own,
And sometimes forget to come to Your throne."

Problems surround me and time passes by,
And life gives me heartache, making me cry.
Then I get tired, anxious and weak,
Next thing I know, Your face I must seek.

He held out His hand with His nail-pierced palm,
And told me relax and try to stay calm.
I saw in His eyes compassion and grace,
And knew I belonged in this heavenly place.

Worship surrounded Him, angels with song,
Beauty beheld Him all the day long.
Peace like a stream flowing gently around,
Until you could hear but a whispering sound.

Love blossomed there with a brilliant array;
I wanted to stay the entire day.
But chores must be finished, errands be done,
People to meet and hearts to be won.

A glimmer of hope welled up in my heart,
With peace in my mind that would never depart.
I had strength to meet the needs of the day,
All because I went to the garden to pray.

Copyright Linda Lufkin

 

CATHEDRAL PINES
 
There's a special spot
on Long Island
that I like a lot
called Cathedral Pines
 
I pack pita bread
filled with tuna salad
I bring bottled water
and fresh fruit
 
Now I am ready to go
into the forest walking
on a bed of pine cones
that covers the entire ground
 
I gazed upward
seeing the sun blocked
by pine needles
darkening the earth below
 
Fragrant forest
smells like a Christmas tree
I feel safe
I feel like I'm home
 
The Divine blessed this place
so all could enjoy
so all could share the wonder
in the beauty of the pine tree forest
 
 
 Copyright Roberta A. McQueen 
 
 
 

Dogweird 

We used to smile at dogweird ancients
Fawning over canine quadrupeds
Of indeterminate patrology.
But now we are become dogweird ourselves
Having learned the joys of doglove.
 
Our two are border collies with interest:
One from a wandering Newfoundland,
The other from a whippet that stopped his madrush
Just long enough to make a difference,
Adding speed to determination.
 
When they go where we go
There is contentment, smiles, and licks.
When they cannot go, they do not sulk
But whine childlike in unfeigned distress.
We take then when we can.
 
One opens the bathroom door in private moments:
He has no sense of decorum, but how he melts
Stony hearts, and is too sweet to make us angry.
These are our children now, and we are glad.
 
We are glad for every dogfilled moment of cuteness
That would be too empty in our failing years
Without what we have come to know.
We would not change this if we could.
 
For every sweet brown-eyed look of innocence
That meets our gaze and melt us down to tears,
We thank the loving hearts of our two dogs,
And for out two sweet dogs we thank our God.
 
We thank our God who knew that in old age
Some special comforts still would be required,
So made these tumbling children in all hues,
All shapes and sizes, and all kinds of fun.
 
And made the room within our ageing hearts
To push aside some cares which gave us pain,
To let these canine creatures captivate our hearts
And in some moments make us young again,
 
Thank you for golden moments with our dogs,
For licks and slavers, and for upraised paws,
For frenzied welcomes, and for leapings up,
For every dogfilled joy, we thank you Lord.
 
 
Copyright Ronnie Bray   Quill@libby.org
 
 
 
AN ANGEL IN HEAVEN

A tiny little bundle
Sent from God above
Loaned to us just briefly
To cherish and to love.

Precious little Gabrielle
It hurts so very much
To know we cannot hold you
Or feel your loving touch.

God has taken you to Heaven
For reasons we don't know
And playing in a garden
Just running to and fro.

Grandpa Bill is waiting there
To hold you in his arms
To protect and keep you safely
From danger and all harm.

For though we must say goodbye
We know it's not forever.
Some day we'll be together again
Ne'er to be separated--ever. 

  In memory of baby twin Gabrielle
 
Copyright Nora C. Davenport  
NDaven3965@aol.com
 
 

On a Clear Day

On a clear day Lord, I can feel you all around me.

I can reach toward the heavens . . .

And there is no in between . . . just you and I . . . on a clear day.

But today Lord, I feel so alone. I feel as though the world has been

removed, snatched up by some invisible source,

And I am here alone.

Forgive me Lord. I know you have not forsaken me, and all who loved

me yesterday, love me still.

But my human frailties, they are talking so loud, they are drowning out

the voice of reason, the voice that I rely upon . . .

On a clear day.

My soul is weeping Lord, and sleep no longer clears my head . . .

No sleep, seems almost frivolous, wasting precious moments,

Time that would elude me . . . on a clear day.

Life is so fragile, and we take it all for granted,

Plodding along, day by day,

Then life turns the page, and storm clouds cover me,

consuming all my energy, leaving me weak and weary.

But still I search for the rainbow . . . that follows the storm.

So today I am reaching Lord, toward the heavens, arms outstretched,

asking, "Lord help me."

Help me clear the storm from my mind, so that I may once again,

feel the joy of each new day.

My eyes are searching for your rainbow.

Help me to see, what I need to see . . . I know you will

lead me through . . .

Hold my hand, until I find my way . . . to a clear day.

Bobby Smith © 2000  

 

DINAH

My calico cat Dinah has cancer
her jaw's swollen and
her right eye's half shut
there's a tumor pushing outward
destroying her skin and bone
 
She jumps on my lap
in one fluid motion
silently she stares
while I hold her gently weeping
 
She purrs softly
and rubs her face against mine
then reaching up with both paws
she hugs me as if to say
everything will be all right
 
If only she could talk
and let me know
the secret of life's mysteries
and how not to fear death
Perhaps that's too much to ask
even if the answers do seem hidden
behind her luminous green eyes
 
 
Roberta A. McQueen
 

 
THE FLAG

When we stop and watch, a parade go by,
And see the flag, that points the sky,
Bow your head for a moment,
Thank God for the reason why.

Thirteen stripes,
for the original states so new,
A field within one corner,
Oh, such a heavenly blue,

Fifty stars that daunt it,
They lie in a placid array,
The golden fringe that surrounds it,
Gives glory to the beautiful display.

I pledge my allegiance to this flag,
And to this country for which it stands.
Under our God who protects it,
And for the liberty and justice it demands.

To change it as materialist want,
would tarnish for what it stands.
Our forefathers formed it so greatly,
And forged it with sinewy hands.

Oh America the beautiful and just,
Oh America the home of the brave,
Let's keep it this way forever
And our freedoms forever we'll save.

Copyright LESLIE M. WILLSON    LMWILLSON@AOL.COM



Souls Whisper

Oft in quiet moments
My soul, it speaks to me
I am filled with deep emotion
That sets my being free
So vivid are the images
Of life, that come to me
So real the tremblings in my soul
Reveal how life could be
If one could but capture
These moments, so divine
How precious would life be
Your soul, with God, entwined

Copyright@ Francine Aubrecht
aubrecht@accesscable.net   

 

Growing 

Please be patient with me I was created many years ago
 But I am not perfected yet you see my growth is mighty slow
I have trouble with my 'diet' it's what's inside of me
That causes me the troubles that a lot of people see

My faults, my doubts, my fears are many through the years
I have shared a lot of laughter but also a lot of tears
Were shed mostly alone as I struggled and in strife
I'm trying to perfect myself 'growing' through this life.

There is no way I have found to grow all by myself
I need all kinds of people and things to help me gain this wealth
I need love , hope, peace and joy from HIM who lives on high.
As well as critics, and encouragers who in this life pass by.

But most needed is the help I receive from God then family,
Then words spoke or looks given from folks like you I see;
And as I walk, I sometimes run ahead and lose my way
And I have to go back and try to find the path where I lost my way.

You see every day is a lesson, and every day we grow.
Sometimes we do it fast sometimes it is so slow
I'm glad my teacher is one of love and yet strict enough to be
One who will help me live down here and grow to live in eternity.

copyright 2003 Leonia A Ebling   wwjdleona@aol.com  

 

Jesus Son of God  

I started on a journey so very long ago,
Trying to find the peace of mind I'd never really known.
I sought a destination that would fill a gaping need;
Wanting answers absolute pushed me to proceed.

I walked a thousand miles till my feet began to bleed,
Trying out each option, from poverty to greed.
And then I met a stranger when I'd given up the game.
He offered me His hand in peace, then told me His name.
His name was Jesus, son of God.

He was not unlike an angel in His flowing royal robe.
He told me all His stories, from Genesis to Job.
I said, "Words are just instruments that beguile and deceive.
There's nothing left that's genuine, so why should I believe?"

There was honesty in His handshake and wisdom in His look.
He smiled a smile of centuries, then, handing me a book,
Said, "Son, I've never failed you. That's all I have for proof.
Dear child, you keep the Bible, for in it is the truth.
The truth is Jesus, son of God,"

He said, "I was the sacrifice that absolved you of your sins.
It was I who made the miracles when I came in mortal skin.
It was I who walked on water, turned water into wine,
And in your hour of darkness my guiding light will always shine:
The light of Jesus, son of God.
Believe in Jesus, son of God"

Copyright 2002 Wood-Ellis

By John R. Wood and Mark E. Ellis
info@lighthouseministry.org

 


LEST WE FORGET OUR
POW'S & MIA'S


I SAW THIS MAN,
ALL TATTERED AND TORN,
HIS CLOTHES WORN OUT,
AND HIS FACE FULL OF SCORN.

HE WAS LOOKING FOR A PLACE,
TO LAY HIMSELF DOWN,
HE HAD RUN OUT OF LUCK,
AND HIS FACE WAS A FROWN.

THE HOME THAT HE HAD MADE,
WAS NO LONGER THERE,
HE HAD RETURNED FROM A WAR,
THAT HE HAD FOUGHT SOMEWHERE.

THEY DIDN'T SAY WHY,
AND SEEMED TO NOT CARE,
FOR THIS IS WHAT WAR IS,
OVER THERE.

HIS WIFE THAT HE HAD MARRIED,
YEARS BEFORE HE WAS SUMMONED,
WAS MARRIED TO ANOTHER,
FOR SHE WAS INFORMED,
THAT HE WAS NOT COMIN'.

HIS UNIT WAS LOST,
TO A RENEGADE CROWD,
AND THEY COULDN'T FIND A PLACE,
TO HANG HIS BLACK SHROUD.

HE WAS MISSING IN ACTION,
AND PRESUMED TO BE DEAD,
BUT LITTLE DID THEY KNOW,
THAT THE ENEMY'S PRISON,
WAS THE PLACE TO LAY HIS SORE HEAD.

ONLY BY FORTUNE,
HE WAS STILL FOUND ALIVE,
AND RETURNED TO OUR SHORES.

ONLY TO REALIZE,
THAT HIS LIFE WAS NO BETTER,
FOR HERE IN HIS HOME LAND,
HE WAS THOUGHT OF AS A DEBITOR.

NO FAMILY, NO FRIENDS,
HIS SOUL WAS IN PAIN,
HE NOW WAS EXISTING,
IN A STORM SEWER DRAIN.

NOW THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED,
TO OUR HEROES OVER THERE,
SO DEATH IS SO WELCOME,
FOR THIS LIFE THEY NO LONGER CAN BEAR.

Copyright LM WILLSON  
LMWILLSON@AOL.COM

 

 
Sailing by Grace 
 
I think of life as a voyage,
A great sailing ship at sea,
Sails filled with potential
To move at the Master's decree.
 
We are sailors by His call
At times the wind in our face
With Jesus as our Captain
We know we're sailing by grace.
 
Watching the horizon ahead
And navigating by the Word,
Even in the noise of living
The still small voice is heard.
 
At times the sailing is rough
When the storms blow strong,
And decisions must be made,
Sometimes they are wrong.
 
Yet He is always right there
Giving guidance from above,
While redirecting our journey
And revealing His great love.
 
Sometimes sailing is smooth
With seas unusually calm;
Time to reflect on His love
And meditate on a Psalm.
 
The sailor must be diligent
To check the charts each day,
Reviewing compass settings,
Resisting the desire to stray.
 
Whether storm tossed and torn
By powerful winds and waves,
Or floating in gentle breezes
We know that Jesus saves.
 
We seek that port of entry
Never from there to roam,
The refuge He calls Heaven,
That harbor we call home.
 
You need not sail unaided.
Give Jesus His rightful place,
And through the seas of life
You will be sailing by Grace.
 
Roger Allen Cook
 
 
 
 
    SISTER  

When she speaks, sometimes I hear my voice,
And in her eyes I see my memories.
When I am hurt, I know she feels my pain.
Her sorrow wounds my spirit, heart and mind.

Although our hues and patterns are unique,
With different colors, textures and designs,
We are but separate pieces of a whole,
Cut from one tightly-woven bolt of cloth.
 
Copyright  BARBARA ELLIOTT CARPENTER    
(In Memory of my beloved Prisy Joy)


I bade her farewell
Not long ago
As she looked into my eyes
Still trusting, still believing

Those last few weeks were hard
Watching the slow deterioration
Of the one who's love
Was unlike any I'd known

She was my child, my mother
My best friend
And now she lay
On a cold silver table

She fought even till the end
It was not yet her time
Or so she thought
Her heartbeat still lingering

"Go to Jesus, my love"
I said as I held her
Mustering the strength
To say my final goodbye

Little did I know
When she finally did consent
That the one that I was losing
Was me.

Copyright Marcie Joy Brown 4/26/03

 

ANGELS IN DISGUISE

I saw an old man by the side of the road.
Could it be that he's waiting there,
For someone to stop, and reach out a hand,
For someone to show they care.
 
He could be homeless, lonely and cold,
Or just a hurting man.
We could easily be in those same shoes,
So, we must extend a hand.
 
He's tired and weary, and he can't go far,
But hopeful that today is the day,
That someone will stop to meet his needs.
Will someone take time today?
 
I saw a crippled lady at the grocery store,
Walking slowly with an old worn cane,
Would someone help her to reach her food,
Would someone lend her a hand?
 
Her family has turned away from her,
Now that she is old and gray.
She was always there for them,
And now... where are they today?
 
She's tired and weary, and she can't go far,
But hopeful that today is the day,
That someone will stop to meet her needs.
Will someone take time today?
 
I saw a small boy so dirty and poor,
With a look on his face that was sad.
Could it be that he prays each day,
For a family -- a real mom and dad.
 
He needs someone to give unconditional love,
That comes with a real family.
He needs someone to help, and to guide him
Into what God would have him be.
 
He's tired and weary, and he can't go far,
But hopeful that today is the day,
That someone will stop to meet his needs.
Will someone take time today?
 
We must always be aware that God,
Sends angels in strange places.
Their disguise can be in many forms,
They can have so many faces.
 
God tells us in His Holy Word,
That we should minister at all times.
For we know not when we just might see,
Angels in disguise.
 
 
Copyright Kathy S. Norris 
 
 
Around Me

I'm in that place between go and stay,
My restless heart sinks deep.
It's hard to lift my head above,
As these waves around me creep.

I don't even know the words to say,
But Lord help I'm at the end.
I'm weary of this raging sea,
With no strength to defend.

But as I take my eyes off,
The waters that surround.
I begin to see the hope,
That only in him is found.

He shows he's faithful through the mountains,
He shows his beauty through the skies,
He shows his passion in the raindrops,
Falling gently on my eyes.

And while it may not make it easier,
It may not take the pain.
It grants a certain peace and love,
That only he sustains.

My heart rests still in his arms of love.
The waves are closing in.
Not sure what the next road holds,
I lift my eyes to the sky again.

Open up my heart,
To this state of mind.
So in tune with your love,
I couldn't miss it if I tried.

He shows his guidance through the distant light,
I hear his whisper in the wind.
His mercy never ceasing,
That's where life begins.

When all around me stops,
And all I can see is Him.
In everything my eyes behold,
My heart can love again.
 
 
Copyright  Lindsie Weidman robo_foot@hotmail.com  
 
 
 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL 
 
It was at a town revival,
Filled with the Holy Ghost,
She must have been an angel,
Sent down from the heavenly host.
 
I just sat there and watched her,
As she struggled up the aisle.
The distance with her tiny steps,
Must have seemed a mile.
 
She was an inspiration,
And it touched my heart so deep,
When I saw her little body,
All I could do was weep.
 
She was so small in stature,
With little crutches on each side.
But her face just seemed to sparkle,
With a smile so big and wide.
 
She was going to the altar,
To receive a special touch,
From the One who had sustained her,
And that she loved so much.
 
I could feel the power,
That was carrying her along.
The grace of a God so loving,
Yet powerful, and strong.
 
And as she walked right by me,
On her journey to the front,
I realized I was too proud,
To do as she had done.
 
It humbled me and broke me,
And I asked the Lord above,
To forgive me for my foolish pride,
And to fill me with His love.
 
I knew that God had sent her,
Just for me to see.
I knew that I had failed Him,
And not been what I should be.
 
He had sent this little angel,
To break my hardened heart,
And I realized my time had come,
To make a brand new start.
 
I?m thankful the little angel,
Made her way along my path,
Specially chosen by the Father,
To refresh, and...
renew my faith.
 
It was at a town revival,
Filled with the Holy Ghost,
She must have been an angel,
Sent down from the heavenly host.
 

Copyright Kathy S. Norris knorris@peoplepc.com
 
 
 
TERROR IN OUR LAND

The day was young and full of hope
The sky serene and blue
Not an inkling of the hell to come
Changing life as we all knew.

The World Trade Center once stood so tall
Amidst the billowy clouds
Demolished by young terrorists
Giving their lives for God.

Panic, screams, huge balls of fire
The horror beyond belief.
How could this happen to our great land
A country so free and so safe.

Thousands of lives lost that day
Friends and families grieving still.
For never again will we be the same
And most likely never will.

Our security and freedom violated
Breached forevermore.
While we continue to struggle to understand
The hatred that bore our shores.

Even though this tragedy happened
We'll forever our country be true.
For God bless our precious America,
The wonderful red, white, and blue
 
 
Copyright Nora C. Davenport
NDaven3965@aol.com
 
 


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