As the sound of Taps floats into the air,
I am transported back in time. Memories
flood my mind as I straighten the flag on
his grave. I silently pray, "Dear God, give me
strength. Steady my hand as You did when I
tended his nosebleeds when he was learning
how to stand. As steady as when I held a
greenish-bronze June bug, while he tied a
string around a prickly, jerking leg. He never
knew how I quaked inside.


Let me remember how proud he was of me
when I first baited a fishhook with a worm.
He was unaware of how I flinched when it
would lash and squirm.

As I kneel to place a wreath on his grave with
trembling hands, I silently plead, "Lord in heaven,
make me calm. So if he's watching from Your
bright blue skies, he'll still be proud he had me
as his Mom!"


(c) copyright Patricia A. Kellemeyer     pkellemeye@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SECOND PLACE:

"He Loved Us So!"
by Linda E. Newman


Upon a hillside long ago
My precious Savior's blood did flow
While heathen's jeered and laughed below;
He suffered so, he suffered so!

~~ * ~~
In smiling silence Satan stood
Unseen midst crowds demanding blood
And they chose evil over good;
He knew they would, He knew they would.

~~ * ~~
The murderer, he was set free,
But they beat Him unmercifully,
And then they nailed Him to a tree
For you and me, for you and me.

~~ * ~~
'Twas for our sins our Savior died,
They thrust a spear deep in his side,
Then skies grew dark, the men did hide,
And Mary cried, and Mary cried.

~~ * ~~
His friends and family brought Him down
And gently laid Him on the ground
Heartbreaking sobs the only sound,
And truth was found, and truth was found.

~~ * ~~
Then Mary knelt and held Him tight,
She cleansed His wounds then, wrapped in white,
In tomb He spent two days, two nights,
Then there was light, then there was light.

~~ * ~~
Upon that hillside long ago
My precious Savior's blood did flow
So that eternal life we'd know;
He loved us so, He loved us so!


©March 29, 2004
Linda E. Newman  All rights reserved.
GramLin99@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THIRD PLACE:

"Awakenings"
By Ginger Boda


I awaken to the call of my sweet children in the hall;
"No, I had it first, so give it to me now!"
I rub my tired eyes and hear my other boy reply,
"It is MINE and you can't have it anyhow!"

So I rise from my warm bed with a throbbing in my head,
to referee at seven in the morn.
I gruffly try to whisper, "You'll awaken baby sister"
"Put the book away!" But it too late ... it's torn.

Then there follows accusations as I feel my reservations
about rising from beneath my cozy covers.
As I stumble over toys and try to hush down all the noise,
in the kitchen, burning toast I do discover!

So commands for kids to dress and clean up all their mess,
are followed by my baby's morning cry.
I retrieve her from her crib, change her, then put on her bib;
hoping that she'll eat the eggs I'm going to fry.
Finally, off to school one goes as I wipe another's nose.

Laundry sorted and the beds are neatly made.
As I scoop up Cheerios from off the floor and 'neath my toes,
I sadly wonder, "Has my self worth been betrayed?"
When I'm startled by a scream of little fingers smashed, it seems,

but, as I dry the tears, the phone begins to ring ...
Then the dog runs through the door, knocks my plants upon the floor,
and I cry, "LORD! I just can't take this "parenting!"
But as I sink down to my knees, little arms around me squeeze,
and a small voice whispers, "Mommy, I love you."

I softly kiss each little face and all my anguish is erased
As I thank God for each NEW DAY He brings me too!


- Ginger Boda - © 1/13/1986
Rhymerbabe@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOURTH PLACE:

"The Quest for the Perfect Tree"

by Susan Turner

She use to say to me
look at that magnificent tree
or look at those blossoming flowers
on our treacherous weekly walks.

I knew her manipulations...
what she was trying to have me do.
But I was far smarter then she knew.
My eyes stayed planted on the street
glaring at the asphalt beneath my feet.
I was never into nature anyway.

Trees, flowers, skies, mountains
were just a part of the world
that was to be rushed past
except for the menacing dry brown mountain
that I can see out my front window.

Each summer as the heat rises and
the hot winds whip up
I wait apprehensively for it to erupt into vivid flames
of red and orange as it did thirty years ago.

Last winter I saw the sky
especially before and after storms.
The startling blackness of the clouds
with the silver moon or radiant sun
attempting to break through embodied me.

For years the stormy darkness
frightened me with threats of
booming thunder and brilliant lightning.
Last winter I rushed out to catch
the dramatic sky...fear was forgotten.

The sky became a centering force...
a vast expense to focus my attention on
when there was a need within me.
I wondered if the winter sky had
always been so beautiful...

Last summer I saw the ocean
in its peaceful beauty and turbulent moods.
As each wave washed to the sand,
my mind was cleansed and
the grip I held so tightly on my body lessened.

For years the ocean was just a thing to lay near
as I scorched my skin dying for that golden tan.
Last summer my chilling childhood memories
of horrendous waves crashing into my tiny body,
enveloping me in black coldness
and the taste of putrid salt water in my mouth left me.
In the sea's serenity, I found my own... if only fleeting.
I wondered if the ocean had always been so healing...

And when we grow old
I will find 2 chairs
and set them close
each sunlit day
that you and I
in quiet joy
can rock the world away.