Poetry (Family)

My heart rests assured in God's place in my wonderful daughter and son-in-law's life. That in itself is the greatest blessing of Lynn's and my life.... I see the fruit in Amanda and Joshua's experiences and the growth in their spiritual understanding ... as they seek to honor God in all their ways... home, work, and church.. Amanda shared this poem with me this week that she heard on the radio. She told me it blessed her and I pray that you find solace, assurance, peace, and the love of God in it for yourself ,as well.

No Coward Soul Is Mine

By: Emily Bronte

No coward soul is mine

No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:

I see Heaven's glories shine,

And faith shines equal, arming me from fear

O God within my breast,

Almighty, ever-present Deity!

Life--that in me has rest

As I--undying Life--have power in thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds

That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;

Worthless as withered weeds,

Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one

Holding so fast by thine infinity;

So surely anchored on

The steadfast rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love

Thy spirit animates eternal years,

Pervades and broods above,

Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and man were gone,

And suns and universes ceased to be,

And Thou were left alone,

Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,

Nor atom that his might could render void:

Thou--THOU art Being and Breath,

And what THOU art may never be destroyed.

The Bridge Builder

This morning a friend reminded me of this wonderfully inspiring poem that I used to love and sit on my sofa as a child and read from my mother's ideals magazine she kept on the coffee table. Every Thanksgiving we were charged to find a passage of something appropriate to share around the dinner table and I always turned to Mother's Ideals magazines... this poem always took my attention and its virtuous application always resonated within my spirit!




The Bridge Builder

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.
"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide --
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pit-fall be,
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him."

Will Allen Dromgoole


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Occupy and Defend

I love this poem by Christopher because it depicts our spiritual battle we fight each and every day as we occupy the land God has given us and intercede for others... intercede for healing, deliverance, and blessings!

Walk out my front door
Into the battle zone
Not knowing if I will come home
Preparing for the fight that is upon me
My body trembling with fear
But my heart with the help of one stays clear
Fighting for their lives, fighting for their lives
I’m a soldier for my Lord
And I’m fighting for their lives
Armed with his word and love
I go out against the evil
That’s trying to bring me down
Temptation attacking
But my armor is defending
My heart is heavy
For the ones unprotected
I want to profess his love
But the battle zone is a sad place
He is offering the armor of love
But they ignore and choose to fight alone
I am only a messenger
But I love them so
So everyday I walk out that door
I live, I love, likes it’s my last
I live, I love, like my Lord has asked

Three or More Tuesday

Visit Tam at The Gypsy's Corner for more TOMT..

Today for my Three or More Tuesday I would like to share from my collection of days album...

I'll begin with yesterday...usually on Monday I meet at the church with the Body Builder's group as we study God's Word and apply it to our spiritual, physical, and emotional maturity with the hope that in doing so we will have better health and lose some weight..... yesterday we had come to the end of a 12 week session and it was time to celebrate ....so we met at Emmajean's gorgeous home to celebrate how God is alive in us.....It would have been lovely if we could have visited on Emmajean's gorgeous patio amid her flowering bowers...




But alas it was just too hot...

It was much more cosy to enjoy out luncheon in the beautiful dining room... of course, anyone who knows me knows that I was completely enthralled with her amazing red toile cornices....


We spent the morning sharing what we had gotten out of our 12 weeks together, we shared funny stories about our lives, and shared about our personal lives our homes and families and really were building authenicity in our relationships.

What dear friends these gals are... that I get to meet with, grow with, and share about life's joys and trials with.....

Our luncheon was a cornucopia of delicious low-cal delights....



Our hostess Emmajean wrote the following poem and shared it with us to close our lovely day...


God's Earth

The beauty and glory of the earth
Show in so many ways
A baby's cry at birth
Upon our hearts forever stays

A robin's song early in spring
Gives music to the dewy morn
A church bell tolls its ring
Upon the soul a prayer is born

The rippling creek runs so clear
Over pebbles glistening in the sun
Butterflies flutter around so near
Delighting the eye 'til day is done

Trees bending low heavy with snow
Covers the ground, a blanket of white
Countless snowflakes who can know
Upon the snow sunbeams crystal bright.

God's world is wonderful to behold:
A magnificent creation from above
His mercy and grace more precious than gold,
And the greatest of His gifts is LOVE!

~~Emmajean Bowman~~

Another day Id love to share about was Sunday....because it was such a Red letter day for us...

Th Lord is so active in my dear husband's life.... he is growing by leaps and bounds in his spiritual maturity.... our Sunday School teacher of several years has decided to stop teaching for a while and he is actively trying to find a replacement..... when he asked Lynn if he'd like to give it a try.... I just held my breath in anticipation of his answer.... and suddenly there was was....

Yes, he was nervous, but he got such a huge blessing from it... he's considering teaching more regularly.... praise God!!

One last day Id like to share about was last Thursday when we had a special luncheon at my mom's. Mom worked so hard to prepare the house for this fun time because special guests were coming.... my dad will be 91 this July and he has 2 cousins he hadnt seen in probably 50 years.... it was wonderful to get together.... we had a glory time sharing old stories, singing old songs and getting to reconnect...

This is Kate Ella giving us a real concert of great gospel tunes.... wow can she make those notes sing!
Today I really enjoyed pulling together a bit of treasure from my day collection... treasures that have been stored in my heart... treasures of love, memories, sharing, giving..treasure we're storing in heaven!

Easter (Crucifixion)

He loved and died
When He was being beaten and spat upon
When His flesh was being torn by the whip
When His back was scourged,
Then He saw me being baptized
and so He permitted them to do so.

When the crown was crushed into His head
When He tasted His own blood
When the thorns pierced His flesh,
Then He saw me praying
and so He killed them not.

When His cross was so heavy that he fell
When He carried wood on His torn flesh
When He wished simply to move no more,
Then He saw me in confession,
and so He got up and walked on.

When His hands were being pierced
When He hung from a cross
When His side was bleeding,
Then He said I love YOU.
and so He died.

Today marks the middle of winter- with no snow on the horizon, I am now looking forward to spring!

I was walking around the yard yesterday afternoon and was enjoying the play of the setting sunlight on the environs. As I meandered up the sideyard I enjoyed the beauty of the haws on our thriving yearling hawthorn tree. I dreamed of how wonderful it will be when the tree grows to maturity in a few years.

Last year we suffered such a devastasting year when we lost so many trees to storm and drought, yet the newness of life continues with our new plantings. I have gotten somewhat used to the exposure of our home which used to be so sweetly shrouded in the shade of several spreading maples, and now is laid bare to passersby.

I look forward to the coming spring and the fresh and delicate blooms of the budding red maples and the white blosoms which will spring forth on this wonderful hawthorn.

THE HAWTHORN TREE
by: Willa Cather (1873-1947)

CROSS the shimmering meadows--
Ah, when he came to me!
In the spring-time,
In the night-time,
In the starlight,
Beneath the hawthorn tree.

Up from the misty marsh-land--
Ah, when he climbed to me!
To my white bower,
To my sweet rest,
To my warm breast,
Beneath the hawthorn tree.

Ask of me what the birds sang,
High in the hawthorn tree;
What the breeze tells,
What the rose smells,
What the stars shine--
Not what he said to me!

"Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow."

- Nelda Hartmann, January Morn

This Old Tree

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,We fell them down and turn them into paper,That we may record our emptiness.~Kahlil Gibran

What a melancholy sentiment this,

I scarce can take it in-

to fell a thing of such beauty

for such a task seems amiss.

This tree stands by the bedroom-

Its shade it always shares,

But, oh, it offers so much more than that...

on windy nights when the air is brisk and the

moon is low in the sky

the branches of this lonely tree whispers

its song of life to us ....its lullaby!

I love this old tree!

The Troubadour, by Walter Scott

My Lady's Solar

The Troubadour

Glowing with love, on fire for fame,

A Troubadour that hated sorrow

Beneath his lady’s window came,

And thus he sung his last good-morrow:

‘My arm it is my country’s right,

My heart is in my true love’s bower;

Gayly for love and fame to fight

Befits the gallant Troubadour.
Walter Scott

I love The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein. I used to read it to my students each year and we'd write about our favorite tree.
THE GIVING TREE
Once there was a giving tree who loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come to play
Swinging from the branches,
sleeping in the shade
Laughing all the summer’s hours away.
And so they love, Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.
But soon the boy grew older and one day he came and said,
"Can you give me some money, tree, to buy something I’ve found?"
"I have no money," said the tree, "Just apples, twigs and leaves."
"But you can take my apples, boy, and sell them in the town."
And so he did and Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.But soon again the boy came back and he said to the tree,"
I’m now a man and I must have a house that’s all my home."
"I can’t give you a house" he said, "The forest is my house."
"But you may cut my branches off and build yourself a home"
And so he did.Oh, the tree was happy.Oh, the tree was glad.
And time went by and the boy came back with sadness in his eyes.
"My life has turned so cold," he says, "and I need sunny days."
"I’ve nothing but my trunk," he says, "But you can cut it down
And build yourself a boat and sail away."
And so he did and Oh, the tree was happy.Oh, the tree was glad.
And after years the boy came back, both of them were old.
"I really cannot help you if you ask for another gift."
"I’m nothing but an old stump now.
I’m sorry but I’ve nothing more to give"
"I do not need very much now, just a quiet place to rest,"
The boy, he whispered, with a weary smile.
"Well", said the tree, "An old stump is still good for that."
"Come, boy", he said, "Sit down, sit down and rest a while."
And so he did and Oh, the tree was happy. Oh, the tree was glad.
by Shel Silverstein
I love our family tree by the back yard. It has shaded our comings and goings for the twenty years we have lived here. It has graced us with its beauty and it strength every season of the year. In the spring Amanda used to love to play with the helicopter seeds it shed upon the brick walk. In summer she played on the swing her dad hung from a low lying branch. Soon the ground had 2 sweet furrows tiny feet made in their back and forth motion to fly and to stop.
Oftentimes in late summer when the dogdays endlessly went on and on its shade created a huge relief to weary gardeners, mowers, playsters. In the autumn the golden yellow leaves created a perfect backdrop for our home and when they fell and were raked into huge piles they became the temptation for young feet and legs to jump into with friends and mothers.
Now the tree stands sentinel trying desparately to yield its bounty. There are no young feet, no swings, no playsters to enjoy its cooling respite. but it struggles all the same to provide what little shade it can with its failing canopy and sparse branches. It hurts me to see its limbs falter. Everyday there is more and more evidence of its demise lying on the ground.

The Bluebird

Blue Bird
by Jody Dickey
High up on a twisted branch

of an old white oak tree

amongst the foliage of

its green leaves and acorns

sits a Blue Eastern Blue bird

I sit on my gazebo enjoying the

spring breeze with its floral

fragrance drifting from the tulips

I can hear his warbling whistle Tu-wheet-tudo

I tune out the sounds of the cars driving on

the busy street with their

stereos blaring and their loud

car horns a blowing toot-toot

everyone in a hurry to get somewhere

The hustle and bustleof the city street,

if they would take the time to care

they would hear something so sweet.

Everyday around noon

he will whistle a lovely tune

it is such a beautiful sound.

It is a melody of love

that he sings to God above.

I sit back in my old wicker chair

listen to the song he sings

I am blessed to hear him sing

high up in the old white oak tree.

Because I knew God was listening

to him sing a song

like he listens to my prayers

Then with a flutter of his blue wings

another Tu-wheet-tudo

high up in the azure sky he flew.

by JodyDickey

Yes, our Lord and Saviour is faithful to hear our prayers. His promises are sure and His will for our lives is good! Praise the lord, for our loving Father in heaven! Hallowed is His name!!

Aw! Nobody Says it Like Wordsworth!

AND what melodious sounds at times prevail!
And, ever and anon, how bright a gleam
Pours on the surface of the turbid Stream!
What heartfelt fragrance mingles with the gale
That swells the bosom of our passing sail!
For where, but on 'this' River's margin, blow
Those flowers of chivalry, to bind the brow
Of hardihood with wreaths that shall not fail?--
Fair Court of Edward! wonder of the world!
I see a matchless blazonry unfurled
Of wisdom, magnanimity, and love;
And meekness tempering honourable pride;
The lamb is couching by the lion's side,
And near the flame-eyed eagle sits the dove.

Poetry Corner

God sends us glimpses of his heaven here on earthA twinkling star on high,A birdsong lullaby,A blossom, oh, so fair,A butterfly's flutter on the air.A sunset dazzling with color bright,A moonrise shattering the darkest night,A sun-dappled forest gladeA cooling respite beneath the shade.All things bright and beautiful Sent to us from on high.God's glory revealed to you and I.

Just down the Street

Just down the street is a lovely old church
It's steeple, white, so prominent from my window.
I love to listen to the tolling bells so sweet,
That mark the day , it's time to tell.

Just down the street is a schoolyard, gay,
The children's voices ring out each day.
A thumping ball upon the walk, voices raised in glee,
A playground recalls great memories to me!

Just down the street and around the corner
Is a home I love to visit, with gray heart shutters,
And awning above the door ,it beckons me to come and say,
"Hi Mom and Dad! What's for dinner?"

It really is wonderful to find such joy
And mirth right in your neighborhood,
No matter if it is beauty or treat,
I can find it just down the street!

Love's Magic

Love is magic, pure and sweet
For it alone makes life complete.
Given freely, never bought
The gift mankind has always sought.
Love’s eternal through the years,
Standing strong through joys and tears,
Changing not itself at all.
But working wonders, large and small
Transcends all that’s commonplace
To matchless beauty, joy and grace.
Makes happiness its specialty
And gives itself unselfishly
Love’s a mystery, ageless, old
Impossible to see or hold.
But when there’s something hearts would say
Love, like magic, shows the way.