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Pickens County,South Carolina |
Old Ruger
(for Ms Faye)
It was long ago,
when I first saw that old Chevy truck
rollin' in every Friday night.
Mr Conway and his bad dog
'Ruger'!
...'No one touched that truck!'
....and he'd say "We gonna win
tonight, Cal?"
and I'd say that I hoped so.
Got to know him some,
in his own way.
Dog was the same.
Ol Conway shared the wins
and the losses, .....helped
me load the racecar............said,
"See ya next week Cal!"
And
Ol Ruger would just sit the seat
as that old Chevy drove away.
I got that dog when Conway died......
and a note that said "Ol' Rugers mean as hell Cal, but
he likes you!
Bye Cal!...
don't worry bout me."
Dog lived in my shop for 3 more
years
mournful, and sorry old he was,
but the Cats loved him. Cats slept all around that old dog 'Ruger'.
............and the Cats were watchin' when I buried him.
I
hope Ol' Conway was happy
when his dog came home.
Them cats
sure did love his old
'Ruger'.
©caliber Dec32002
Angel Of Remembrance
Beauty through beauty’s eyes serene,
this angel’s vision
does see anew.
Seeing within, around, visiting
hidden corners
oft forgotten.
Opening treasured thought
long buried for protection,
discovering.
Gratitude undisguised,
compassion’s voice now healing
peace begotten.
Memory’s soul is found
angel wings gently touching,
lifting to view.
Respite from pain is wrought,
fluttering unflustered,
recovering.
Heart’s instinct shows the way,
perspective clear, insightful,
whispering wings.
Remembrance Angel, Faye
wings embracing, carrying
love she brings.
©Lucille J. Biscaglio September 09, 2002
For Faye Sizemore: Loving wife of a Vietnam Veteran, she has found room to tuck so many more under her wings. Please
visit Faye’s Index here at IWVPA and you will find the reason for this tribute http://iwvpa.net/sizemoref/
Faye
What would be more plain written than your words, Would be
transparent in their purity, The opposite to all those ill absurds,
That divide and damage unity! The magic simplicity of your written lines,
Directs my thoughts to what those words do say, For there from start to finish
you design, A beauteous truth in a fine display.
Your gift is our delight for you do share, An honesty that seeks the direct point,
And brings our minds to further be aware, That kindness is a blessing to appoint,
Therein your heart a graciousness resides, That with us all your friendship here confides.
©Colin F. Jones 15 April 2002
For Faye Sizemore
Christmas. . .In My Eyes
We all stop to pray,
And celebrate this one Special day,
For on this day, a savior was born,
It is his life that we forever mourn.
But what of the Warriors, Soldiers and Men,
Who fought for our Freedom,
Our Liberty for this Land?
Do we just sit,
And open our gifts,
Rather than give,
To those who have no family,
No friends, no clothes, to keep warm?
They are the Homeless, the sad,
The mothers and Dads,
Who fought to keep alive,
Our freedom we hold deep inside.
They also deserve to be praised,
And those who passed,
Mourned.
For were it not for them,
This day would never mean more,
For the Gift of life is worth more than a toy,
A shirt, or new shoes.
It is the joy,
Of knowing someone cares,
That someone is always there.
The Northern Star guided us to Jesus,
So let your heart guide you,
To help those most needy.
Danielle N Calhoun
© December 2, 2002
What Would You See?
Can you see what God has painted for you and me Can you see the colors that are beyond the site of
man's vision Can you see our homeland painted with such perfection Can you see us all living in peace with each other
Can you see us trying to be blood brothers
We live in his world on borrowed time He painted us in so many colors We walk as silent spirits
on so many soils The color of our blood bleeds the same
The color of our red burns bright like his eternal flame He wanted us to live in harmony and
peace To love each other so why do our enemies Find this so hard to believe?
Can you see his mighty Eagle fly high over looking power blue skies Can you see the Rainbows casting
shadows apond the mountains He flies over this mother land defending all that offend our ways Watching and protecting
the beauty that God created with his own hands Can you hear the thunder of wild horses running free and untamed
Horses of every color and size running in a pack Living in harmony and peace Watching each others
tracks
They charge through the mountains parting red rocks and copper canyons Like sprits in the wind flying
past time Racing towards freedom crossing mighty rivers and lakes Close your eyes and open your heart you will
hear his voice
Don't be afraid to catch his voice in the soft swift breeze Open your eyes and witness what he has
done for you and me Tell me now what is it you see He made us in his own image to love each other To live as one
like each others brother
If you listen quietly with out hearing the noise You will hear his love in his whispering
voice He only asks of you two things? To love Him with all your heart
And love me as your brother Now open your eyes Can you see us running through the canyons Together?
Written By: Ruby Alexandra Beloz ©11-28-02
More of Ruby`s poetry
For Faye
There’s one sweet gal we can depend upon;
She’s there for us each and every day.
She’s always bright and cheerful,
And knows exactly what to say.
She treats our poems... oh! most graciously,
Even if, at times, our work is not so good.
But she always has the kindest words,
For she knows we did the best we could.
If you have writer’s block and need a hint,
She’ll gladly help without delay.
She’ll brighten your spirits if they’re low,
She’s like a ray of sunshine on a wintry day,
So with this little verse, I hope and pray,
That you’ll have a Merry Christmas, Dearest Faye,
And a Happy New Year too.... Frank J.
Truth Destinies last hope lies within our deepest fear, Holding on to yesterday wishing tomorrow were here, We lead
a life of truth or dare,And when it seems like we don't even have a prayer, We lose control to crash and burn, Making
mistakes from which we never learn, Lifes an endless journey we all have to take, Yet we're killing ourselves with the
choices we make.....
©Leah Frank 04/08/03
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