His heart is turned to God.
His words speak comfort to her soul
I watch in reverence, awed.
The power that is giv'n to man
and used with worthy care.
Can heal a troubled heart with ease
a gift that is so rare.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Conference Time
Lazy days in the fall sunshine are so peaceful.
Like the sway of tall prairie grass or the click of a grandfather clock.
Life seems less burdened and full of purpose as I listen to a prophet's voice.
There was a time when minutes dragged on into hours and days into weekends.
A stream of monotone talks and brightly colored ties.
But time moves forward and what used to be monotonous becomes precious.
And hours and days fly by like a bird ahead of winter storms.
I cherish these days of pure inspiration
and children gathered round their parents for hours on end.
I long for the talks to last longer and the music to sooth my troubled heart.
It's conference time and all is well in zion.
Like the sway of tall prairie grass or the click of a grandfather clock.
Life seems less burdened and full of purpose as I listen to a prophet's voice.
There was a time when minutes dragged on into hours and days into weekends.
A stream of monotone talks and brightly colored ties.
But time moves forward and what used to be monotonous becomes precious.
And hours and days fly by like a bird ahead of winter storms.
I cherish these days of pure inspiration
and children gathered round their parents for hours on end.
I long for the talks to last longer and the music to sooth my troubled heart.
It's conference time and all is well in zion.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Mother's Day
One clean, white sheet of paper is full of possibilities
One freshly sharpened pencil is how to start
A crayon makes the final loving touches
and one tiny hand can melt my heart.
One freshly sharpened pencil is how to start
A crayon makes the final loving touches
and one tiny hand can melt my heart.
One unkind word
Today I had a serpent's tongue
hissed venom on my brother
and took no thought ahead of time
of how I'd hurt another.
And then the serpent slid away
and I became a mouse
and wished that I had held my tongue
or stayed inside my house.
hissed venom on my brother
and took no thought ahead of time
of how I'd hurt another.
And then the serpent slid away
and I became a mouse
and wished that I had held my tongue
or stayed inside my house.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
My boys
Boys are such interesting creatures
sometimes clean, often smudged
but always lovable.
On a swing in the backyard
or huddled under a blanket fort,
they are never boring.
My boys are my strength
and sometimes my weakness
Their eyes are full of mystery.
I will love them always!
sometimes clean, often smudged
but always lovable.
On a swing in the backyard
or huddled under a blanket fort,
they are never boring.
My boys are my strength
and sometimes my weakness
Their eyes are full of mystery.
I will love them always!
A splash of color
A splash of color on a stark white canvas
can improve any surrounding.
I prefer poppies.
Red and green against a bluebird sky.
These are things that brighten my day.
can improve any surrounding.
I prefer poppies.
Red and green against a bluebird sky.
These are things that brighten my day.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
A start
If I were going to write a novel it would start like this...
The apple orchard spread out down the hill like a blanket of white blossoms. It was almost like stepping out of time and into a place in history that no longer existed. There were no telephone poles, no sattelite dishes and definitely no freeways. Only the soft buzz of a summer breeze.
The apple orchard spread out down the hill like a blanket of white blossoms. It was almost like stepping out of time and into a place in history that no longer existed. There were no telephone poles, no sattelite dishes and definitely no freeways. Only the soft buzz of a summer breeze.
There once was a girl...
There once was a little girl
a blonde-haired, pot-bellied, happy little girl
and she loved her dog and her brother
and she ran the world.
And time drifted forward into a new age
and the little girl's hair turned brown
and her belly hard
and she loved balls and quiet places
where she could escape the world.
And one day that girl became a woman
who still felt like a little girl
and she lost site of what she loved
except for one boy
who was her world.
And sometimes she will sit in a quiet place
and wonder who this woman is that she has become
who no longer runs the world
but sees it in her children's eyes.
a blonde-haired, pot-bellied, happy little girl
and she loved her dog and her brother
and she ran the world.
And time drifted forward into a new age
and the little girl's hair turned brown
and her belly hard
and she loved balls and quiet places
where she could escape the world.
And one day that girl became a woman
who still felt like a little girl
and she lost site of what she loved
except for one boy
who was her world.
And sometimes she will sit in a quiet place
and wonder who this woman is that she has become
who no longer runs the world
but sees it in her children's eyes.
A few warm thoughts
Over the years I've dabbled in writing and poetry as a means of recording the things of my soul. There are some talents I've been blessed with and others that I have to work on to keep them shining. This blog is a place to practice some of those talents in order to improve them. But mostly it will contain a few warm thoughts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)