TO THE LADY IN THE HAT
(Faye)
Under the hat I see a lovely face,
Carefully groomed to retain a special grace,
Which fits the form that is not there to see,
But are beauteous branches of a wondrous tree.
Oh how those eyes tease those who sneak a look,
Like colored stones shone by a bubbling brook,
Enriched with wisdom and a happy heart,
Lit by humors ever delightful spark.
Indeed with thee the Lord took special care,
For much is magic beneath that head of hair,
That hidden by the hat which shades your face,
There is a very lovely thought filled place,
To be my friend makes me a friend of thee,
For just to know you is a special thing to me
©Colin F.JonesDec2002
'Buck'
Hagood Mill |
|
Pickens,South Carolina |
Old Mill Creek
We pedalin’ our bikes Just being merry Took the
old shortcut Through the cemetery Down to where there was A creek ‘neath the hill Down that shady Rutty
gravel lane Whoopin’ and hollorin’ We came To the pond below The old gristmill We’d go there
In the summer heat Swimin’ in the millpond Could not be beat
It was our summer Gatherin’ place Our cares we’d leave In another space A time not measured On
the clock Lost in cool waters By a mossy rock
The boys would Skinny dip Afterwards they would Really flip You can take This bet We knowin’
how their Clothes got wet
There was a rope Over the creek Hung from a Willow tree We would swing Across on it My brother And
me Through the air We would glide Feelin’ like Winged creatures As we made The other side
That was another Long gone time Now here I am Alone just me Sittin’ on the mossy rock Watchin’
the sunshine Dapple the waters As it shines Through the old tree Where many Years ago Our rope swing Used
to be
Overgrown the lane is Now with vines Seems I can hear laughter From by gone times Glimpse from the Corner
of my eyes Bare foot girls with Pants rolled up Bare backs of little guys I long for those Carefree days And
us with our Tom Sawyer ways
The mill wheel doesn’t Turn anymore Like me, old and creaky It `s become My brother has Gone
on before We won’t catch The tadpoles As we did in Days of yore On the rope swing We won’t glide No
need to... When time finds You’re already... On the other side…
©Faye Sizemore April 20, 2002 |
Escape
There is a path leading from the past
That many traverse backwards in time
Lost in memory,a journey of
the mind
To places forgotten for a while
Places where we used to smile
A certain sound
Is enough to turn us around
Transported on memories wind
To where treasures abound
Old
smiles are seen again
The flowers of yesterdays
Forever in memory bloom
And old music softly plays
If it were not this way
Could
we bear today.....
©Faye Sizemore Apr 2002
Life is a Garden
Tread not in the shadows Grow in the sunshine Keep
always between the rows Let not anything in evil Or allow weeds to grow Remember you will always Have to reap
what you sow If you have more than you need Share with the needy The bounty of your seed Never forget to Give
thanks to above If you are able For the good things Heaped on your table
©Faye Sizemore |
Carpenter Needed
Lord, I’m just a lost child Rafting the
waters at night Seems so deep Water is so cold Always been so Since days of old
There is a light Even for me When on these currents I’m
tossed
Jesus shines With a light To guide those like me Through
the night
This old vessel Lets in the water Not to mention the cold Must
be somewhere There is a hole
Jesus was a carpenter He will shore up my float And shine
up my soul Out here on the water Not a rag to call my own Jesus, Lord, Beckon me home
©Faye Sizemore February 2002 |
Reverence
I am not afraid of dying Only sad of the leaving Of the
ones I could no longer Comfort in their grieving Of a shoulder I could not offer Even though I would want to try
Of tears I could no longer dry Of the hand I could no longer hold This I will keep believing No, I’m not
afraid of the dying I am sorrowful of the leaving
©Faye Sizemore May 18, 2002 |
The Walk
The crowd lined the way to the hill that day A man named
Jesus was making his way Up the hill called Calvary Carrying his cross that was so heavy No help to him was offered
by any Though the way was lined by many There were rich and poor Some in the open Some behind their door Under
the weight His back was bent As farther up the hill he went His eyes met mine And I knew This to be a sign Would
remember this Man for all time I stepped forward “Let me carry it a ways, Lord" I could do that with my black
skin He rested and then Almost to the top He shouldered it again And with it… He now carried my burden
of sin
©Faye Sizemore March 2002 |
The New Sunday School Teacher
“Our Sunday school class needs a teacher” The
news was given out after the sermon By their fine preacher “One that will go by the rule Needed for the adult
class Those I have asked, all said they would pass So I’m asking you to pray As their attendance is dwindling
each day”
Duncan bowed his head And prayed as hard as he could When the prayer for the teacher was read Later that
night in bed Duncan remembered the prayer for the teacher And thought it deserved another prayer said He prayed as
hard as any preacher. And when he opened his eyes, He beheld a strange sight His bedroom was filled with a glowing
light Causing Duncan’s wife to cry out with a fright
“Duncan” a voice said Making Duncan cower down in the bed “I want you to teach that Sunday
school class” By then Duncan knew it was the voice of his Lord Taking a deep breath in a trembling voice, he said “Lord,
I’m not the one; I’d have them all bored I’m not educated, just a plain farming man” “Duncan”
the voice said “you are schooled in my ways And I know you’ve been faithful all of your days I’d never
steer you wrong I want you to go teach that class where you belong’
Duncan bowed his head Looked down at his work worn hands And this is what he said “Lord, I’ve
always trusted you Next Sunday we’ll see what I can do” Well, Duncan went and taught that class with no
trouble And would you believe, in a month the attendance was double…
©Faye Sizemore March 2002 |
Being Thankful
I am thankful for the softly falling rain For
the sunsets golden glow For the sunrise that every day I know will come again And after the winter’s snow When
the geese are on the wing I am thankful for the spring Awakening every living thing
Lord, teach us to be behold All the beauty around us We are ignorant, but for you Lord, just
pebbles on the beach Driftwood washed ashore You are the tide Which if you, please… Can polish us beyond
belief…
©Faye Sizemore May 31, 2002 |
Rain Prayer
The woman walked across the kitchen
And swung the screen
door open wide
She rang the dinner bell so loud
It made the chickens run and hide
Looking up to the sky she saw not
a cloud
A sweaty and tired man came from the field
And poured out the water the bucket did yield
Washing up he remembered
how rain did feel
Supper on the table and heads were bowed
Still the sky showed no sign of a cloud
The sound of the
man`s prayer was raised
As he thanked his God and his Lord he praised
'Now God' he said' if you could see fit
To
dash just a little needed rain our way
We`ll be thankful,Lord, for any we can get
Tomorrow will do if you don`t see
fit today'
Amens said they all started the supper meal
Each thinking of a threat of drought so real
Knowing the corn
in the field was so very dry
Without some rain soon it would surely die
Just doing their best and never asking why
In
faith just trusting in God to do the rest
If any had been outside and looked toward the sky
They would have seen clouds
gathering in the west
A gift of rain to these servants who praised him best
©Faye Sizemore July11 2002
Prayer
Lord,protect me from the disabled.
They are among us...
Everywhere to see.
"Veterans of Ignorance"
With all sorts of Disabilities
Eyes that do not see
Do not wish
to see..
{Not pretty,don`t show it to me}
Ears that do not hear
Do not wish to hear..
{Don`t tell me that,It doesn`t concern me}
Hearts
that do not care..
Hearts that do not care to care
{So,it doesn`t affect me...}
Lord...Protect me...
Do not let them shatter my sheild of glass
As thru my life they pass
©Faye Sizemore 2002
Blessings
Dear God ,I am learning
Blessings are bestowed
Upon the deserving
And sometimes on
the not so deserving
The deserving see
And they thank Thee
The undeserving
Really don`t know
They just take
them
... and go
©Faye Sizemore 2002
A Stone Nature Garden
The little graveyard lies secluded
on a shady country back lane
It was early morning when
upon it I came
Large trees overlooking a peaceful lilypond
There damp ferns unfurl their leafy frond
The dragon flies drone over the frogs lilypad
On the lane with fishing pole passes a small lad
Startling a few rabbits into the hedgerow
As whistling down the lane he does go
Birds can be seen going about here and there
They are gathering food without a moments care
From beyond the stone angel on the hill
Two deer walk out and for a moment are still
Beholding this place of rest of humankind
Before following their path that does wind
In the pond squirrels are reflected in the trees above
Along with the many stones that were placed
with love
In the summer`s heat I heard the locoust`s shrill cry
The wildflowers that grow here are a treat
to my eye
Butterflies choose the flowers they love best
There is so much life in this place of rest
A mockeryof those lying sleeping
No... perhaps a promise...
Of God`s keeping
©Faye Sizemore August232002
Poemscript and picture for'Weary Road' done for me by my very good friend, and fellow poet,Thurman
P. Woodfork,affectionately known as Woody.Click picture to go to his beautiful site of USAF stories and poems...
Weary Road
Walking
alone upon
this road
dark as midnight
Not a glint
is showing
not even
starlight
Many, many miles
behind me
many more
ahead
Following
where
the dear Master
has lead
Promising
streets of gold
and a pillow
for my head
Lord, it is so hard
to stay on this road
and much less
to carry
this load
But trudge
on I will
for I know
there is rest
on the other
side
of the hill.
ãFaye Sizemore
September 21 2002
Ego
If I could put an end to all the world's pain,
And insure that war would never again
Raise its fearsome sword on earth;
If I could mandate that every birth
Would fill the world with joy and love;
And that everyone worked hand in glove...
If I knew that, from Winter through Fall,
My wisdom was superior to all;
Then I would own all of this spinning sod
And there would be no need for a God.
ãThurman P. Woodfork 6 August 2002
Hear my cry
Mounted
in the wind
Muted like a sigh
My feeble voice
hurling
old words
at the sky
Anger thrown
on high
To float
as a dark cloud
in space
for all time
Why...Why?
©Faye Sizemore August2002
The Last Unicorn
Peace is a strange magical elusive creature Forever
having to change its grazing fields It basks for a while in the morning sunshine Then shies away as if before an approaching
storm One of the Almighty’s most precious creations Driven by man from its home to wither and die
©Faye Sizemore April 22, 2002 |
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