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Distant Melody

Our time on this sphere is not in metered rhyme

but mostly ,wildly tumbling prose...

Some of it, ethereal music, just below the range of our hearing

Time is not always presented with understanding,

but forever it is laced with wonder...

Sometimes we travel barren fields ,

and, othertimes, blossoming meadows

Valleys and mountains need to be traversed,

the means lying with the traveler...

We shall all arrive at our destination in our own time

Some sooner,some later,but all arriving one final day,

whether with the fanfare of trumpets or a just a gentle sigh

and, in traveling on, we realize the faint ethereal music

has become the welcoming sound of beloved familiar voices...

©Faye Sizemore 5/25/03


A July View of Pickens Co, S.C. From Atop Glassy Mt.

     Carolina Piney Woods
Walk with me in the piney woods
Winter has been packing it`s goods
All here is becoming lush and green
Signs of spring and birds nesting are seen
The only helicopers, an occasional dragonfly
There are no bombs falling from the sky
Just  fragrant blossoms floating down
No trenches here, dug in the ground,
just soldier ants marching around...
the birds and the wind, the only sound
One thing  above all that I hold dear
All is tranquil peace here........ in this place,
If only I could just gather the world into here
and,would that we could,remain in this space,
....................and forget the war`s scheming
..............become lost in Carolina dreaming
©Faye Sizemore 3/28/03


Hello..My name is Faye Sizemore.
I am a great-grandmother.I live in sunny South Carolina,
but am a transplanted Yankee.
I was born in Kentucky,my father was a coal miner.
I was raised in a small New York town near Lake Ontario.
I love to write poetry
and I hope you
enjoy my poems.


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


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


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


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




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

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

 alone upon
 this road
dark as midnight

Not a glint
is showing
not even

Many, many miles
 behind me
 many more

the dear Master
 has lead

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.

Faye Sizemore

September 21 2002





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.

Thurman P. Woodfork 6 August 2002



Hear My Prayer

 Hear my cry
    in the wind
 Muted like a sigh
   My feeble voice
 old words
   at the sky
Anger thrown
   on high
To float
 as a dark cloud
 in space
for all time

©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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