Happy Valentine's Day

February Greetings

by

Adeline Roseberg

All outdoors

Edged in lace,

Twigs and grasses. . . 

Beauteous grace.

Sunshine glows

Through snowy birches,

On frosty limb

A bluejay perches.

Thank you, Lord,

For heavenly art.

Your valentine

Has touched my heart.

(photo from www.pixiq.com)

Poetry for a Sunday

Crystal Beauty

by

Gertrude Rudberg

The golden sun was shining

Upon a world of ice;

And for that crystal beauty

There was no offered price.

The trees encased in silver,

And some with golden hue,

Stood etched in brilliant diamonds

Against the sky of blue.

The fields, the lawns, the meadows,

The hedge and fencetops too,

Were all a frozen picture -

Of what God's hands can do.

(from an old Ideals Valentine book)

Pictures taken along our road yesterday

October

Words from Write. Click. Scrapbook this morning:

October gave a party, 

The leaves by hundreds came,

The Chestnuts, Oaks and Maples,

And leaves of every name.

The Sunshine spread a carpet,

And everything was grand,

Miss Weather led the dancing,

Professor Wind the band.

--George Cooper

Pictures from our yard

Happy Mother's Day

Mother's Hands 

by Theresa Bratko

Mother's hands were never idle

Through the passing years,

Cooking, cleaning, mending,

Or drying children's tears.

With never a complaint or fuss

Over endless chores to do,

She always met each morning

With energy forever new.

Years of hard work tell a story -

Now her hands are veined and blue.

Stubborn fingers won't respond

To tasks they were accustomed to.

Time, quite a demanding thief,

Suddenly forces one to rest.

Yet, for years of serving others,

I'm very sure her soul is blessed!

Poetry for a Sunday

Seven Horses

When I was a pencil of a girl
I had seven horses, one
for each day of the week.

Thunder, Lightning, Sun
and Moon, East Wind
North Wind and Red Roses.

Only I could see them,
roan and black, grey,
palomino, dapple, white

and the strange one
the flying red horse
from the Mobil sign.

I rode them to school,
home, to the store.
I rode them down the slopes

of rocky night.  In adolescence
I never mooned over horses.
Later, they were something cops

charged at us in demonstrations.
I’d sooner ride a cow.
No, it was not horseflesh

but power I craved
and speed.  I longed to gallop
out of our tight mortgaged house

furnished with shouts and razors,
out of the smoke of frustrations
burning like old tires.

I wanted to stick out my neck
and gallop at full tilt off
any map I had ever seen.

by Marge Piercey

Happy Easter!

(image by Sharon Marcella Marston)

Easter Joy


Jesus came to earth,
To show us how to live,
How to put others first,
How to love and how to give.

Then He set about His work,
That God sent Him to do;
He took our punishment on Himself;
He made us clean and new.

He could have saved Himself,
Calling angels from above,
But He chose to pay our price for sin;
He paid it out of love.

Our Lord died on Good Friday,
But the cross did not destroy
His resurrection on Easter morn
That fills our hearts with joy.

Now we know our earthly death,
Like His, is just a rest.
We'll be forever with Him
In heaven, where life is best.

So we live our lives for Jesus,
Think of Him in all we do.
Thank you Savior; Thank you Lord.
Help us love like you!


By Joanna Fuchs

Poetry for a Sunday

Almost Spring

As winter turns the corner And spring is on the way I wait with mounting happiness To see what comes today. I also love the cold days With frost upon the sill But something special happens Once winter’s had its fill. The crocus buds are swollen The daffodils sprout so tall Something special happens As spring time makes its call. So get ready for the changes That happens none too soon When spring time rounds that corner And flowers start to bloom! Marilyn Lott (photo at Sands Point Preserve, Long Island, NY)

Poetry for a Sunday

In Storybook Land 

by Virginia Katherine Oliver

In storybook land there is magic,

With the power to take you away

From worries and cares all about you

And the problems you face every day.

There is mystery, romance, humor,

Hidden between the leaves of each book;

Wonderful thoughts you will find inside 

If you just take the trouble to look.

Just wander away in your fancy

To the days of the long, long ago,

Or a glorious world of make-believe

Wherein the breezes of dreamland blow.

Once under the spell of its magic,

You will then evermore understand

What it means to leave the world behind

And drift away to storybook land.

(picture taken in our daughter, Naomi's, garden)

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine

Let this valentine

Be a reminder

That the special love

Which radiates so strongly

At this particular time of year

Is a universal message

Of the everlasting love

That each of us has

To share each and every day.

Love, universal love,

So essential to nurture

Our highest good

Today and forever.

by Byron P. Tousignant

Poetry for a Sunday

Crystal Beauty 

by Gertrude Rudberg

The golden sun was shining

Upon a world of ice;

And for that crystal beauty

There was no offered price.

The trees encased in silver,

And some with golden hue,

Stood etched in brilliant diamonds

Against the sky of blue.

The fields, the lawns, the meadows, 

The hedge and fencetops, too,

Were all a frozen picture -

Of what God's hands could do.  

Poetry for a Sunday

A Red, Red Rose

BY ROBERT BURNS

O my Luve is like a red, red rose

   That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

   So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

   Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

   While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!

   And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

   Though it were ten thousand mile.

(to celebrate Robbie Burns day which was earlier this week)

Poetry for a Sunday

Canadian Winter 

The snow came down and whirled around
and grew and grew and grew.
We scraped and blew and shovelled
but were helpless to undo.

The snow we cleared made piles
like a rocky mountain range;
And then it rained swift rivers -
nature thought we needed change.

The rain will wash away the snow,
was what we had in mind;
But slush was over boot tops -
nowhere to run could find.

The temperatures dropped and you could say
we were really in a rut;
More snow and freezing rain to come -
the weatherman's words did cut.

As long as my home is cozy-warm,
the weather I'll take on the chin;
For, after all, I'm Canadian
and bear winter with a grin.

©Joan Adams Burchell

Music for a Sunday

Poetry for a Sunday

A Child's Vision

by Sherwin Kaufmann

My child took a crayon

In her little hand

And started to draw

As if by command.

I looked on with pleasure

But couldn't foresee

What the few simple lines

Were going to be.

What are you drawing?

I asked, by and by.

I'm making a picture

Of God in the sky.

But nobody knows

What God looks like, I sighed.

They will when I'm finished

She calmly replied.

Poetry for a Sunday

.

Another New Year

 by

Phyllis C. Michael

Another new year - what shall I make of it?

God gave it to me as a loan.

Shall I search for earth's cheer with its pretense and take it -

Not bread for my soul but a stone?

Another new year - what shall I gather,

Earth's tinsel, her glitter to show?

Another new year - what would I rather,

A flash or a deep inner glow?

A year full of getting or a year full of giving

The best that I have to give?

A year full of fretting or a year full of living

The way that God wants me to live?

Another new year - what shall I make of it?

God gave me the right to choose.

Another new year - God helping, I'll take it

And give it to Him to use.

Poetry for a Sunday

Earlier this fall, after I posted a gratitude entry, Margaret emailed me and asked if she could use my thoughts in a poem.  I was very surprised at the request and honoured that she would ask to write with my ideas.  We've chatted online several times and once again I realize how blessed I am by the people I have met in blogland.  I love the poem she wrote!

How He Loves Me Still

by 

Margaret Brown

Oh, how He loves me, He knows my every prayer,

Lavishing gifts of beauty that surround me everywhere.

Clouds tinted pink from a glowing sunrise,

The sheer intensity of the purple evening skies.

Like a billowing breeze blowing countless falling leaves,

Countless are His thoughts that He thinks about me!

Gently invading daybreak with a regally creeping sun

‘Til a burst of fire lights my day, crowning the horizon.

Trees with leafless branches reaching toward the sky,

Remind me to praise Him with my own hands held high.

Sometimes I stumble and fall from His will,

Ah, though He knows me, He loves me still.

Poem of the Day

"Morning Surprise" 

by Garnett Ann Schultz

I found the world this morning

Neath a blanket pure and white:

The snow so soft and gentle

Had fallen through the night.

No footprints marred its loveliness

No earthly thing was there;

And only wintertime supreme

Had made the whole world fair.

I found the trees this morning,

Each one dressed in splendor true

With every branch all covered

By the nighttime snow so new.

How lovely was the hilltop

In the early morning dawn,

Just before the world awakened

As the nighttime fast was gone.

I found the world this morning

And I thought it quite a thrill

As the precious little snowflakes

Brought a charm to yonder hill.

It was pleasant at the dawning,

And my heart was filled with charms

When I found the world this morning

Snug and safe in Winter's arms.