Heaven

Sometimes I like to imagine what heaven might look like. Ever since I can remember I was taught and still believe that heaven is a real place. Of course I want to go there someday. Although I don't know what it will look like, there's no harm in imagining what it might look like. One thing I do know (because the Bible tells us) is that God promises there will be no crying, sickness, unfairness, sadness or bad feelings in heaven. Just perfect joy and peace.

Someday I'll live in a palace
in heaven painted gold.
And I will play with lions
that never will grow old.

In heaven I'll build a barn
to keep animals of course.
Perhaps a friendly kangaroo
and a gentle riding horse.

In heaven I'll grow a garden
where bees can work and hum
and in the fall at harvest time
rejoice in God's kingdom.

In heaven I'll talk to Jesus

and He will be my friend.

And I will feel great happiness

that will never, ever end.

God Cares for the Birds

I've always loved birds. We can learn so much from their careful, yet carefree ways. Here's a poem I have written and rewritten many times. I think it's finally ready to be revealed. If you are a worrier, take note.

I’ve never noticed sparrows
Building barns for food to store.
They never fret or worry much
About the day before.

I’ve never noticed robins
Basking idle in the sun.
They do their work happily
Until the day is done.

I’ve never heard the cardinals
Gripe about their food.
They’re always singing merrily
And never something rude.

I’ve never noticed calling doves
Fuss if they should fall.
Each day they gather with their friends
And cheer each one and all.

My Daughter

The eleventh of September may be a sad day to remember for the world, but it's a happy one for me because that's the day my daughter was born. She's now 18 and I would like to share the poem I wrote for her.

Daughter, there’s something about you
That means so very much.
Could it be your laughter and quiet voice?
Or, the magic in your touch.

How we love our brown-eyed beauty.
You’re an angel in disguise.
You know just how to make us laugh,
With that twinkle in your eyes.

Though you try hard not to be noticed
You rise above the rest.
How we love the freckles on your cheeks.
We think you are the best.

With your knack of creating unique things
We love your sense of style.
And though you’re not the neatest child
Your creations make us smile.

And now we wish for you this day
A happy day to, remember.
A day of peace and happiness
On the eleventh of September.

Beginnings

School started and we are back in routine. Sigh! I can't say I was desperately waiting for this day, but now that's it's here, I'm thankful for it. My youngest started highschool and was a little anxious about his first day. One of his teachers gave her students a welcome treat. She put cookies in a plastic bag with a verse attached to it. "Remember what I commanded you to be strong and brave. Don't be afraid, because the Lord your God will be with you everywhere you go." Joshua 1:9.

How comforting to know he'll have a teacher that trusts in God. To start this new season, I've put together a prayer poem.

Dear God, I need you more every day,

More than words can really say.

I need your strength for I am weak.

Your strength is what I should seek.

I need your hope when things go wrong.

To fill my soul with a happy song.

I need your love so I can live,

And faith that only you can give.

Happy Birthday Kayla!

What nicer way to make a child smile than to write her a poem. For my neice's 6th birthday I mailed her a home made card. Inside was a poem that I had written. And to make it extra special I added pictures that I had drawn of Kayla to colour. I'm told Kayla laughed about the poem and she coloured the pictures right away. As the giver, I think I got more out of this than anyone.

When Kayla turned one
She sang in the sun.
When Kayla turned two
She played the kazoo.
When Kayla turned three
She swam in the sea.
When Kayla turned four
She danced on the floor.
When Kayla turned five
She learned how to dive.
But now that Kayla’s six
She eats banana splits.

Bread Baking

It's very hot today. Summer has finally arrived. The heat reminded me of stories my grandmother told me when I was a child. I loved hearing how different her life was to mine. Her home had no electricity, so bedtime was when the sun went down. In winter that meant long sleeps. I wonder if people had sleeping problems then like they do today. With the work harder, I imagine that their sleep was sweeter.

Grandmother likes to tell me about a time
She helped her mother bake bread.
Outside in ovens made of brick and stone
Its aroma filled the air, she said.

Grandmother smiles remembering the bread,
Brown bread she helped bake.
Pounding balls of dough on large stone slabs
Until her arms began to ache.

I like to think how she must have looked
Collecting wood to build the fire.
Until it reached the right color and temperature,
Her face red with perspire.

Grandmother couldn't wait for the bread to cool.
And tells me how good it tasted.
And though it lasted for just a few days
Not a piece of it was wasted.

I asked Grandmother, “Do you miss that bread?
And how it tasted so fresh and good.”
She nods and says she misses the taste of the bread,
But not cutting all that fire wood.

Apple Picking

I took a lovely walk this morning. The orchards and vineyards were pretty as a postcard. While I walked I mulled over an embarrassing incident that happened on the weekend, and felt so fortunate. (Would you believe I called the police to report my son missing when I didn't find him in bed and there was no car in the driveway. He went out for breakfast for 6 hours with work friends. Next time he does that he better call.) Why did I feel fortunate? Because, I knew that God wants what's best for me. Here's one of my favorite verses in the whole Bible.

"This is what God requires: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

I wandered through the orchard way
In the morning part of day.
And there beside the deep ravine
Apples grew on branches green.

I pondered of what there was to come
In autumn, with apples high as a drum.
And thought who'd miss one apple sweet.
So on went marching my two feet.

To pluck one fruit would be a crime.
No matter if the fruit looked fine.
Still, the fruit so green and small
Seemed to beckon to me and call.

I soon gave in and reached up high,
And plucked an apple from the sky.
And as the sap dripped down my chin
My face did slowly lose its grin.

Here's the tale my face expressed,
It was a taste I've come to detest.
Sour and tart, I remember it still.
To steal fruit again, I never will.