The few
The easy roads are crowded, the level roads are jammed
And the pleasant little river with the drifting folk is crammed.
But up yonder where it's rocky, where you get a better view
You'll find the ranks are thinner and the travellers are few.
Where the goings smooth and pleasant you will always find the throng
But the steps that call for courage and the track that's hard to do -
In the end result is glory, for the never wavering few.
Leaves:
Like leaves on trees: The race of man was found
Now grass in youth, now withering on the ground
Another race the following Spring supplies
They fall successive and successive rise.
Forgiven
I must not keep a ledger sheet
On those who do me wrong,
Nor mark them off my "friendship list"
As though they don't belong.
I've only to remember this
I've been forgiven much
And made acceptable to God
By Jesus loving touch.
How can I then fail to forgive
Some small and petty thing
When all my sinfulness has been
Forgiven by a King.
Something Beautiful Remains.
The tide recedes but leaves behind
Bright seashells on the sand -
The sun goes down but gentle warmth
Still lingers on the land.
The music stops and yet it echoes
On in sweet refrains -
For every joy that passes
Something Beautiful Remains
“The tears fall gently, softly”
The Wives Of Brixham
(Devon England)
The merry boats of Brixham
Go out to search the seas-
A staunch and sturdy fleet are they
Who love a swinging breeze.
And before the woods of Devon
And the silver cliffs of Wales-
You may see when summer evenings fall,
The light upon their sails.
But when the year grows darker
And winds hunt the foam-
They go back to little Brixham
And ply their toil at home
And thus it chanced one winter's night
When a storm began to roar-
That all the men were out at sea,
And all the wives upon the shore.
Then as the wind grew fiercer,
The women's cheeks grew white-
It was fiercer in the twilight,-
And fiercest in the night.
The strong clouds set themselves like ice,
Without a star to melt-
The blackness of the darkness
Was darkness to be felt.
The old men they were anxious
They dreaded what they knew-
What do you think the women did?
Love taught them what to do!
Out spake a wife "We've beds at home
We'll burn them for a light -
Give us the men and the bare ground,
"We want no more to-night.."
They took the Grandma's blanket
Who shivered and bade them go-
They took the baby's pillow
Who could not say them no.
And they heaped a great fire on the pier,
And knew not all the while-
If they were burning a bonfire
Or only a funeral pile.
And fed with precious food the flame
Shone bravely on the black-
Till a cry ran through the people
"A boat is coming back!"
Staggering dimly through the fog
Come shapes of fear and doubt-
But when the first prow strikes the pier
Cannot you hear them shout.
Then all along the breath of flame
Dark figures shrieked and ran-
With "Child, here comes your father!"
Or "Wife, is this your man?"
And faint feet touch the welcome shore,
And wait a little while-
And kisses drop from frozen lips,-
Too tired to speak or smile.
So one by one they struggle in,
All that the sea would spare-
We will not reckon through our tears
The names that were not there.
But some went home without a bed,
When all the tale was told-
Who were too cold with sorrow,-
To know the night was cold.
And this is what the men must do
Who work in wind and foam-
And this is what the women bear
Who watch for them at home -
So when you see a Brixham boat
Go out to face the gales-
Think of the love that travels
Like light upon her sails!
Did You ?
Is anybody happier because you passed their way ?
Does anybody remember that you spoke to them today ?
This day is almost over, it's toiling time is through
Is there anyone who will utter a kindly word for you ?
Can you say tonight in parting with the day that's slipping fast
That you helped a single person of the many you have passed ?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you said to them ?
Does person who's hopes were fading now with courage look ahead ?
Did you waste the day or lose it ? Was it well and truly spent ?
Did you leave a trial of kindness, or a scar of discontent ?
As you close your eyes in slumber, do you think that God would say
You have earned one more tomorrow by the love you gave today ?
A kind word
Kind words toward those you daily meet,
Will make this life of ours most sweet,
Turn darkness into light.
Isaac Watts
I Would Rather
I'd rather have one little flower from the garden of a friend
Than to have the very choicest blossoms when my stay on ......
earth must end.
I'd rather have a few kind words that may now be said to me
Than tears around my casket when my life has ceased to be..
I'd rather have one loving smile from the friends I know are true,
Than the flowers sent in mourning when I bid this earth farewell.
So give me all your flowers today, whether they're pink or white or red
I'd rather have one blossom now than a truckload when I'm dead.
Speak Gently
Speak gently, it is better far
To rule by love than fear -
Speak gently, let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here.
Speak gently, love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind -
And gently friendship's accent flow
Affection's voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child
Its love be sure to gain,
Teach it in accents soft and mild
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear,
Pass through this life as best they may
'Tis full of anxious care.
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the careworn heart -
The sands of life are nearly run
Let such in peace depart.
Speak gently kindly to the poor
Let no harsh tone be heard -
They have enough they must endure
Without an unkind word.
Speak gently to the erring - know
They may have toiled in vain.-
Perchance unkindness made them so
Oh; win them back again.
God calling yet! Shall I not hear?
Earth's pleasures shall I still hold dear?
Shall life's swift passing years all fly.
And still my soul in slumber lie?
Gerard Tersteegen (1697-1769)
What is a poem; A poem must take you on a journey touch your heart give a picture story bringing images to the reader through vivid sense details and the music of animated language
27th December 2005
Is it not something
Is it not something after all,
When paths divide when shadows fall -
To know that there is someone who
Will wonder a little what you do?
Will wonder a little where you are –
It maybe near, it maybe far -
It maybe half the world around –
Is it something to have found -
Some soul, when other paths you choose;
You cannot have but you cannot lose?
Is it not something just to know
That when divided paths you go -
You never quite completely part,
That each shall carry in the heart -
Some memory of the other days
Before you went divided ways?
Is it not something just to feel
What hills may hide, what clouds conceal -
Although you know no clasp of hands
That someone somewhere understands?
Oh we may part from many a friend,
And every song must have an end,
But in the heart the song sings on
When who sang the song has gone,
So think of someone, somewhere, who
Wonders a little what you do -
Wonders a little where you are,
Though very near or very far -
When paths divide, when shadows fall,
Is that not something after all?
"Empty your heart as you drain your pen"
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My poem collection ... please enjoy
In remembrance of our loving daughter Tricia who passed away 3rd March 2008 aged 45 years (A cancer victim)
