SARAH'S POEM
 
My name is Sarah
 
I am but three,
 
My eyes are swollen
 
I cannot see,
 
I must be stupid
 
I must be bad,
 
What else could have made
 
My daddy so mad?
 
I wish I were better
 
I wish I weren't ugly,
 
Then maybe my mommy
 
Would still want to hug me.
 
I can't speak at all
 
I can't do a wrong
 
Or else I'm locked up
 
All the day long.
 
When I awake I'm all alone
 
The house is dark
 
My folks aren't home.
 
When my mommy does come
 
I'll try and be nice,
 
So maybe I'll get just
 
One whipping tonight.
 
Don't make a sound!
 
I just heard a car
 
My daddy is back
 
From Charlie's Bar.
 
I hear him curse
 
My name he calls
 
I press myself
 
Against the wall.
 
I try and hide
 
From his evil eyes
 
I'm so afraid now
 
I'm starting to cry.
 
He finds me weeping
 
He shouts ugly words,
 
He says its my fault
 
That he suffers at work.
 
He slaps me and hits me
 
And yells at me more,
 
I finally get free
 
And I run for the door.
 
He's already locked it
 
And I start to bawl,
 
He takes me and throws me
 
Against the hard wall.
 
I fall to the floor
 
With my bones nearly broken,
 
And my daddy continues
 
With more bad words spoken.
 
"I'm sorry!", I scream
 
But its now much too late
 
His face has been twisted
 
Into unimaginable hate.
 
The hurt and the pain
 
Again and again
 
Oh please God, have mercy!
 
Oh please let it end!
 
And he finally stops
 
And heads for the door,
 
While I lay there motionless
 
Sprawled on the floor.
 
My name is Sarah
 
And I am but three,
 
Tonight my daddy
 
Murdered me.
 
Every day thousands of kids just like Sarah are killed at the hands of
One or both or their parents. I pray for child abuse to wither out and die,
but also pray for the safety of Our youth. 

The young ones cannot help
themselves....if you suspect a child is in danger, please do not look the
other way, we can make a difference. Please pass this poem on because as
crazy as it might sound, it might just indirectly change a life.


Hey, you! NEVER know. Please forward if you are AGAINST CHILD ABUSE


I received this in my mail this morning and thought it was worth passing on.

Stardust:
Donna, what a beautiful poem. I can tell it was written from the heart with all you Love.....

I removed the poem, I had received it and it was so sad and reminded of my family so many years ago. I sure don't want to cause any distress to who ever your talking about or anyone else :o((

I think your poem is beautiful. I think your girl would be proud to receive a poem from you.

I love this Poem' It's beautiful..... I've got the two poem's I like best. Please post them.

1. Remember grandpa

2.When soft green
spring days come,

Wanda

Why thank you Dragonheart.....
I'll check it out. Thanks so much.

Have a great day.

Please do. I love to read poetry. :o)

Morning Greg......

A Great Poem!! It's good to see your work on the board. Keep up the good work.

Same here Greg. Hope all is well with you. :o)

Stopped by to see what was going on. Looks like i'm missing sooooo much. James, I love your poetry. I hope you someday put them all together in a book.
Keepup the good work.

Donna, Very good work I went into your site. That's a good ideal. Very nice.

Greg, thanks for putting ANNABEL LEE
on the board, it's been along time since i've read that one. How about some more??

gooner , what a nice poem and how very true. Thanks for posting.

Bernice , I can see why you have been chosen as one of the best. Your poem
Memories is really good.

Thanks to all for posting your beautiful poetry. I'm not near finished reading yet.

See you later.

That's a beautiful poem Pawnchucker.I've never read it before. Thanks for sharing. Hope your day was a good one. :o)

Linda, how beautiful and so very true. Thanks so much for sharing.

Or... Roses are red, Violets are blue,Sugar is sweet and you are tooo. :o)

Hey you guy's , anyone out there that can help me.
I'm working on a memory book.

Remember, girls in the old days used to keep memory books, and bashful boys wrote in them.

Things like: "The road is wide and full of ditches, I hope some day you'll patch my breeches!"

And this one: "When you get married and live over the hill, send me news by the whippoorwill."

Anyone out there remember any? :o)

The Old Barn
A stranger came by the other day with an offer that set me to thinking. He wanted to buy the old barn that sits out by the highway. I told him right off he was crazy He was a city type, you could tell by his clothes, his car, his hands, and the way he talked. He said he was driving by and saw that beautiful barn sitting out in the tall grass and wanted to know if it was for sale. I told him he had a funny idea of beauty.
Sure, it was a handsome building in its day. But then, there's been a lot of winters pass with their snow and ice and howling wind. The summer sun's beat down on that old barn till all the paint's gone, and the wood has turned silver gray. Now the old building leans a good deal, looking kind of tired. Yet, that fellow called it beautiful.
That set me to thinking. I walked out to the field and just stood there, gazing at that old barn. The stranger said he planned to use the lumber to line the walls of his den in a new country home he's building down the road. He said you couldn't get paint that beautiful. Only years of standing in the weather, bearing the storms and scorching sun, only that can produce beautiful barn wood.
It came to me then. We're a lot like that, you and I. Only it's on the inside that the beauty grows with us. Sure we turn silver gray too ... and lean a bit more than we did when we were young and full of sap. But the Good Lord knows what He's doing. And as the years pass He's busy using the hard wealth of our lives, the dry spells and the stormy seasons, to do a job of beautifying our souls that nothing else can produce. And to think how often folks holler because they want life easy!
They took the old barn down today and hauled it away to beautify a rich man's house. And I reckon someday you and I'll be hauled off to Heaven to take on whatever chores the Good Lord has for us on the Great Sky Ranch.
And I suspect we'll be more beautiful then for the seasons we've been through here ... and just maybe even add a bit of beauty to our Father's house.
May there be peace within you today.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
"I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

DrRobinson, this is so beautiful and written from the heart. Your Special Friend, is very lucky to have a good Friend like you.

How beautiful and how true. Thanks for sharing Linda.

Well my Friend's , here we are at the last month of the year, with every important day gone but Christmas; the best natured holiday of them all. As always, it comes just in time to keep us from concentrating on the mind numbing sameness of winter days, wrapping the year up in a bright, homey package. Luckily, for those of us who live here, in my little town. It's such a pretty little town in in its setting of steep, rolling hills, that every day of every season has its own sort of beauty. The winter sun is kind to these ancient mountian ridges, striking colors that are different every day and giving a hospitable glow to all the little houses nestled in on the hillsides. My town, to its everlasting credit, still looks like woodsmoke, firelight and home to anyone who ever lived here.

For most people, there are two times in the long year that they want to see the home town, the home folks and the scenes of their childhood. One is in the fall, when the leaves turn and bring a bitter-sweet nostalgia with their falling, reminding us all that everything must die, and we need to revisit our lives. But the other is Christmas, which celebrates family life at its very best; the kindness and sharing of people who have become dear to each other and want to be together. Christmas is a month's worth of good cheer . The lighting-up we do for Christmas warms up a whole town, I've always had to exercise sanity in this mattet of lights. :o) I would like to stertch lights from one end of our house to the other, a blazing fanfare of twinkling lights for every Christmas bound traveler to see. Good sense tells me that a woman of my age shouldn't be crawling and climbing to high places. :o( Sooo going to do just a little this year. I've put a tree on my entry porch (( I've got three porches and a gazebo that in years past i''ve had a tree on each of them)) and I've placed my big Christmas wreath on the front of the house to welcome Christmas company in case I have some.

What all of us here are looking forward to is the Christmas parade, which each year, to our amazement, lives up to everyone's expectations. There is no such thing as "Well, they can't beat last year's parade" because last year's was held in a chilly, misling rain, but the people who build floats and decorate vehicles are always out to outdo the previous year anyway. :o) Of all the holidays, Christmas is the time of lights and good will and the Christmas Parade has worlds of both. But the very best thing it shines with I think, is a sense of home that represents every little town and community in our County. It's a parade that takes time to have little kids on tricycles and pulling coaster wagons, with town dogs keeping them companyIt's a parade with horses and boats and old cars looking their best , trucks and trailers full of celebraters and gleaming with lights, fire engines and police cars with sirens and more lights to build the excitement. It's a noisy, festive, glittering way to go into winter and we all make the most of it. Like our city crew who each year climb ladders and poles to put up our street light decorations, we are all part of this best of holidays. Wherever you are, we'll remind you of HOME.

LOL. i'm still laughing. Hahahahahahahah

DrRobinson...... This so Beautiful so moving.

Greg, what a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing....The older i get the more this poem fits me......

Like the poem says.. There are so many things that I have never seen: and I think of people long ago.
The hardships they must have endured.......

Just beautiful! :o)

Well, I guess I did. I know she will like it.

Thanks!

TNP

Thanks Aragon , I found it in some papers of my Mother's along with some other ones . I'll post some of them sometime.

I was going to send it to GrannyOne. :o(

Come sit beside my fire, old friend,

And revel in its glow---

We'll watch the shadows on the screen,

And dream of long ago...

We'll talk of things of bygone days,

That seldom come to mind,--

Old times, old scenes,almost forgot,

And leave the world behind!


And while we sit beside my fire

And sniff the pungent oak---

We'll stoke our pipes with fragrant leaf,

And watch the curling smoke.

We'll know a precious, fleeting hour

Which lends a sweet release

From things that tend to sear and scar---

And in their stead---find Peace!


We'll toss aside the faded years---

We'll both be boys, , again---

Forgetting all the serious things

That haunt the realm of men.

We'll romp and play as boys must do,

('Though foolish it may be)

And roam the once-familiar path;

We two---just you and me!


Ah, there's the dusty,winding road;

The old church on the hill---

The village store,the covered bridge, the creek---

The farm-house and the mill---


And nestled low amidst the trees

With sunbeams darting through,

And shadows playing hide and seek---

The school-house that we knew!


But look! It's fading swiftly now---

There's but an ember glow---

Our fire-side hour of dreams is done;

Our fire is burning low---

But then, 'tis something rare and fine,

Of which I never tire...

A trip into the Long Ago,

With a friend---beside my fire!
..................................................

Does anyone know who wrote this poem???

aaaah, very beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

Thank you very much. I beleive every word of it.

Wanda

When a sunny hello
Would help brighten your day...


When you've just heard
good news and
have volumes to say...

When two tickets
turn up to a great matinee...
...all you need is a friend!

When the path that you're on
turns surprisingly rough...

When wherever you're going,
the going gets tough...

When you're giving your all
but it's just not enough...
...all you need is a friend!

A friend speaks the truth
When it needs to be told...

Tells you you're rediant
When you feel old...

Gives you a nudge
When you must be cajoled...
Likes you as you are...
Joins in your mischief
With vigor and zest...

Makes you aware that
You're looking your best...
Leaves you alone
if you just need a rest...
but never strays too far.

When a role model's needed
to keep you on track...
When you've tried to be open
but don't have the knack...
When you've earned a good word
and a pat on the back...
...all you need is a friend.

When it's shared, every day
can be even more fun...
And a duo is often
much better than one...
So remember each dawn
as you rise with the sun...
all you need is a friend!

My Daughter

OLD GLORY

I went to fetch Old Glory
as she stood out in the rain.
As it was time to hang my head
for prayer on this day.
I thought I'd offered shelter
admidst my eaves out there.
As tornado warnings raged around me
I still wanted her to fly.
My hands reach to gather her so
pretty she did look...
Even tho her sadness felt
You could see it did show...
I felt a drop upon my sandalled foot,
and I begin to cry. It was then
I knew the drops that fell
As heaven felt us mourn.
The birds came to cry with me in a voice
I never heard and I gazed upon
'Old Glory" and I knew she wished to stay.
Well she wasn't in any danger in my heart
I knew it true and the teardrops from heaven
could wash away the bloodied stains...
Cause as I watched and felt her tears that dripped from
the gentle blowing of the breeze
I knew she had a job to do for
America My Country!
Which she chose to say,
"Under God We Stand Forever This Day'.

September 14, 2001
Swan
Copyright ©2001-2003

Somewhere out there those evil ones
Chose to declare war...
Our tears called 911.

A Happy Birthday to You ~~

A Happy Birthday to You ~~

Everyday day of the year ~~

May You find Jesus near ~~

A Happy Birthday to You ~~

A Happy Birthday to You ~~

And the BEST one you've ever had.

" HAPPY BIRTHDAY " Edrena.

Have so little time....

So much on my mind...

That I find I'm way behind

So if you all don't mind........


Just wanted to Praise everyone that has submitted a rhyme.

So beautiful, so moving, so many memories......

It does take me back.....I can just see my two little ones ... now all grown up ...been settin' here with all these memories, and a little teary eyed......

Your welcome emattie194 and thank you for sharing some of your memories with me. We'll have so much to talk about when we get together. :o)

Ah, this is what life is all about!

I look back now and I remember you were the chief and I the scout.
Used to think I wanted a sister and used to dream another to play with who might be sweet.
So often the words that I heard,
'go on now your just a girl'.
Just a girl, now what is that?
I could do all the things by following you...
Remember when you would run?
Don't you recall I did too, and when you would climb up the tree...
Yep, there I was , it was me:+)
Superman! I still hear the shout as you came flying from the rail.
Wasn't long before a dyed bedsheet I too could call a cape.
'Ah, mom why her too?
Superman isn't any sily ole girl.'
Still treasure that look on your face when next you lept into the air....
Here I came not far behind arms spread wide....
Do you remember now my shout?
superman to the rescue!
Give just bout anything now to have it captured
and framed.
You didn't get it, neither did I just thought I was a guy if that's what it took.
Guess one day it finally sunk in....
Wasn't a guy, but we could be friends.
Soon I learned with some 'firm persuasion' if
I was to leap into the air the sound must be...
Supergirl to the rescue:+)
But that was fine, just change my line and then we both could jump and fly.
As I was determined whatever you did there I'd be.
Nah, didn't matter boy or girl both could play.
Funny as I recollect time passed on and great fun we had....
Untill your buds came knockin' at the door.
Then back to hearing those dreaded words...
'go on now your just a girl.'
So what?
I could do all you did and more! and somethings better than your friends.
Yep, that's what I thought:+)
Who else could be by your side at all times...
skipping rocks, flying, skating and climbing trees?

Ah, and that look on your face it's my birthday and again`a prayer was answered..
Ooooh, my very own B-B gun!
Yes , and I still have it to this day, what a joy
I remember sharing with both my son and daughter.
The handle is cracked and it's worn. You must remember tho, sure seen and fought so many wars.
It's amazing the things we learn from watching and being a shadow.
From racing boats to racing cars and a few more 'tid bits better left untold':+)
Get your own friends. Let me play with the guy's
Sheesh,sometimes so mean I thought you hated me.
But I soon learned that wasn't the case....
Not another soul out there was allowed to hurt or say anything to make me sad.
Time marched on and we both grew, pretty much stopped following you.
Day soon arrived 'yes I was a girl'.
And there you stood...
had my own friends and now I was going off to date.
Reckon you felt it was time to follow me...
So now the roles slightly reversed,
'go on now leave me alone'.
Hadn't a doubt could take care of myself...
did you forget you taught me how to fight?
In time a middle ground was found and though high school I cheered you on
as you became our basketball star.
Yep, that's my brother, I would say.
Times we thought couldn't wait to get away from each other...
then here your day came in '73.
Brother graduated and off he went going to defend country,help keep us free.
Just didn't know how much I would miss you and you me:=(
Many times I was so proud when you came home to escort me,
in your uniform for all to see.
Strang the stages we go through from...
'go on now, get away'
To planning trips so Dad and Jerry can fry up fish on the river bank
Havin' Aunt Carmie from Alaska
Eatin' some of mom's blackberry cobbler
skipping rocks and watching the water
back once again all together....
'Sharing life's adventure'.

@ Pattricia Pummill
2001-2003

:o).... this has gotta be good if it's by William Blake. :o)

Harley.......That's good! You summed it all up in a nutshell. :o) I'll be like Star i'm going back and read it all over again very slowly.

Hey Stardust ....... I like being famous, don't you? :O)

Thanks Harley!

Very good Granny.

I LEFT A NOTE

I left this note on the bridge
to represent troubled waters...
Because your hands once
big and strong
did offer so much love
and promise to encircle me
and protect me from all wrong.
A promise like a wedding ring
without an end
that offers a shield from all the world
That two shall stand forever strong.
Somehow I find the circle broke
and much to my dismay
The hands that were to keep me safe
and make me feel so loved.
I find puts the world first and
gives to others before our own.
The bond so strong I thought would last
snapped the circle and ring in half.
When finding that my healthly needs
would always be put last.
Forgive me as I shed a tear,
How foolish I must seem.
To think I mght come before anothers need
or a night out on the town.
What made me think the bills or food
and cleaniness should matter?
So many times as I lay ill or
lost a loved one along the way...
I found would always be a burden
I alone would care.
For I know it shall 'always' be
and it will never change.
But other's wishes, another's frills,
other's 'have to's',
someone's meal and a pitcher of ale
will always come before ...
A circle of love a home built strong
and a scacred bond of a wedding ring.

Pattricia Pummill © 2001

You guy's are really putting some good poetry on here. I could just spend all my time here reading. It's like a very good book I get started and don't want to put it down till it's finished. :o)

I really like this one Donna.

Very very good Donna.

Thanks emattie1943 for all the nice comments about Pattricia's Poems. Her poems does bring back many meories don't they? My Dad ran the ferry on Current River for about 4 year's. We lived there in the Lewis house on the river bank.

Life Spans...
I remember how you took my hand when
I was very small and showed to me so much love.
How could I forget grandpa?
And as time passed and you grew ill
it was time to offer out our hand
to help you thru it all.
And so you came to live with us and I was only
twelve...
You grew stronger and seemed to flourish and
I would like to think, it was from the love you felt since you chose to stay.
Through many years of growing up you watched us along the way.
But did you know that I watched you and marvelled at your walk?
Oft times that cane would hinder you
'Toss it aside' ......that was my thought.
But I was young and didn't know why it stood close by.
Just in case you might stumble ..
it was there to rely on.
Much like we do our parents and our grandparents as we grow.
Funny isn't it the things we love so much don't know until it's gone...
But like I used to grab your hand
I can imagine momma did so young and then again when my young ones came along.
Some days I hear your chuckle ringing in my ears and when my tomatoes bloom
I see your face all aglow and I remember you in the garden.
No, never met another who could grow 'em quite like you!
Through all those years and with that cane you walked along the way....
Be it rain or shine it didn't matter
up and down the hill you went to run the ferryboat each day.
And for awhile I'd be hard pressed to say who it was
My grandpa or grandad who liked to
ride the most.
As I look back and picture you with that
shiny red car,
Ever ready just to roll and set on cruise....
Yes, and I can remember a time or two when that cruise got us into trouble and
I learned never hurts having the marshall as your uncle:+)
But in looking back today the thing I learned the most...
was making time for family that very special quality you always had.
Cause often I would hear these words...
Who wants to play a game of checkers or some yahztee...
do you have the time?
Care for a game of aggravation, scrabble or monoply...
Just bought this deck of cards, want to loose a dime?
and I would think, oh no! grandpa's out to get us all.
Will I have to play?
Cause seems like mostly you would win and
those eyes how they would twinkle 'n crinkle as I would hear you shout....
Yep, I'm the Best, I won again....
No doubt I'm the Best!
Looking back tho, I can see the same twinkle when at times we won.
And wee ones too as the art you passed on.
So now I know the joy you felt in teaching and in learning.
It's always nice to win a game and always nice to know
that you taught another and help to mold a young ones mind.
But bigger than the game itself comes the loving and the sharing.
Then setting down to spend sometime with those you love not rushing or hurrying.
So thanks for always reaching out for always having time.....
And you are right, 'You are the Best'
and not just with the name but
your quality in giving with your living made a 'Life span...' of loving along the way.

With love from my heart
Ralph Lee Best
My Grandpa

Pattricia Pummill
©2001

If I could write poetry
I would write for you
Would help you imagine
a ride on the wind.
We would travel to countries
where you never been.
I could sit you on a cloud, tis true.
In a sky of sapphire blue.
Then amidst some sparkling rain.
on a rainbow made with you in mind
I would watch as you slide...
Give to you a palace with a moor and gate Perhaps you might like to be king or queen for a day?
You might walk and feel my pain
as we climb up mountains praying for the top then smile and laugh once more
at the thought of my victory and gain.
Maybe take a peek at the golden gates
forget all your burdens and cares
as we fly and walk through the air.
Ah, just think we could do all this and more... If only for a moment or a day or three... A poet I could be.

@ Pattricia Pummill

Found this in this weeks local paper.

1. If I like it, it's mine.
2. If it's in my hand, it's mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it's mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I'm doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it's mine.
8. If I think it's mine it's mine.
9. If it's yours and I steal it, it's mine.

What hope is here for modern rhyme
To him, who turns a musing eye
On songs, and deeds, and lives, that lie
Foreshorten's in the tract of time?

Thes mortal lullabies of pain
May bind a book, may line a box,
May serve to curl a maiden's locks;
Or when a thousand moons shall wane

A man upon a stall may find,
And ,passing, turn the page that tells
A grief, then changed to something else,
Sung by a long-forgotton mind.

But what of that? My darken'd ways
Shall ring with music all the same;
To breath my loss is more than fame,
To utter love more sweet than praise.


By: ALFRED LORD TENNYSON

By my Daughter.....

My Reflection..

The years are passing quickly and I look deep within
to see if life is being kind and perhaps there I'll find some kin
Somedays I see a stranger there and other times my face shines
and with the wrinkles I do wonder...
laugh lines or hard times?
I often see my momma looking back at me
So that is quite the compliment can't you see?
As she was and is a looker a real beauty they all say
and, I've been told if I be blessed
perhaps, I'll look half as good one day:-)
But then on days I see my aunts
Shirley 'n Lucille, both smiling back at me.
When I was young I was Cille's image and then it passed away...
Now years later can't help but wonder, has it come to stay?
It really is quite strange, I never know who
I might meet when looking in my mirror.
And in my childrens face...
My Brandy and my Crockett
Branded for eternity I now see a hint of me!
I know for sure without a doubt great grannys skin I have.
Oft times I see a hint of my handsome daddy when he was very young
but then.... with that slanted mischievous grin its grandad and my brother!
And I have noticed as my cheeks begin to sag my lips seem to grow thinner...
and if I imagine my eyes to be another color
With this silver that streaks my hair
Ah, my precious Granny Pummill
  Now some say 'I look only look like Patty,
No family traits can they find'...
I suspect tis true, I only see myself.
Just a loving mixture of those who walked before ...
Each one so very special and so kind.
Me, I'd like to think as years go by and my youth is left behind
that deep within now a
'real beauty' just begins
for all this world to see and
I shall pray it might stay and never fade away...
Cause if its true what I've been told the love
I have for Jehovah will mark my face like my heart and
I will always 'shine'

©Pattricia Pummill 2001

Very Good Usurper KM !

OK G-man and your not dumb. I think this is a good ideal. But i'm the one who is dumb I don't know a thing about organisational skills. I'm like you this seems like it would be fun. If there is a way i can help, if i can i will.


By the way do you have any painting's of Grandma Moses. :o)

Greg, what kind of help?

Most of my Daughter's writing is of her life and family...This is one she won a award for. The Quilt is one that my Mom made and gave her when she turned 16. Hope you enjoy.....
The Quilt


Ah, grandmother dear, how I smile
as I look upon the quilt you made for me.
Many long hours of love and labor,
and all the miles we walked together.
Now who would have known
and who would have thought,
all these years later it stands the test
and hangs here now among all my best.
A little worn and somewhat tattered,
these stars of red, white and blue.....
folded just perfect on a matching stand.
The frayed edges really couldn't matter.
Many years passed since I turned sixteen.
Ah, so many summers I have seen.
Little did I know this gift you lovingly made
would bear great witness to a 'special love' for me.
Deep reds and wines, and shades of blue.
Your 'America my country' book displayed too.
George Washington as he signs a bill.
Yes, Mama I now show off your plate.
Indian heritage thrown in too....
Intense, my colors, like the maiden, made by you.
How did you know so many years ago,
the colors I'd chose to wrap around my home
You said, "We are a part of all that grows".
Didn't understand then, but this I know,
when I smell spring in the air,
long before the buds appear,
I can feel the call....
So world, you can have all the malls,
as I yearn for the sun upon my face and back,
with hands plunged deep within the soil
I know.... Yes. I'm part of all that grows!
And I can still see you taking each loving stitch.
Many longs hours you sat on your bench.
Wondered then, why you sat so long,
your fingers sore and your back would ache,
but yet so strong....
But now you sit at the Masters Feet
and all your pains have been erased.
I remember sitting by your feet and side,
all the love I felt then and now inside.
Now I know why you took each stitch.
So we all might know you're never gone,
no matter how much you are missed,
leaving apart of you behind that offers....
warmth, smiles and memories galore.
What better gifts could I have,
than to know you set about with more
love and patience, then designed it all just 'sew'....
© 2001 Pattricia Pummill

My Daughter: Pattricia Pummill ©2001

What is this? you ask of me
Is this what you call poetry?
'No, my friend I share with you,
words wrapped up flowing from my heart...'
With a twinkle in my eye and a whimsicial grin...
I reply.
With it my hope to you might be
a story that touches deeply
As we gently walk in time...
gracefully told like a river flows.
Maybe it will stir the soul
touch your emotions as you read
Not really poetry but, Prose you see...
A few lines told in rhyme
from the poet buried deep within this heart of mine.