Life Lines Flowing through Time

(THE OLD GRAY HOUSE)

WHERE THE DREAMS DIED

Tire swing

Kiddie things

Strawberry patch

Playing school

“April Fool!”

Pitch and Catch

Summer ice cream

Happy wife dreams

Truth unfolding

His affairs

Her despair

Dreams die slowly

Tranquil farm

Lost its charm

How she cried…

…And went away

From the house of gray

Where the dreams died

SHE CARED

She had no estate great to leave me,

No storehouse of wealth left to share.

Her treasure so free was a gold legacy—

It was just that she loved me. She cared.

In the eyes of the world she was nothing,

No outstanding talent, no flair,

Just a plain soul one safely could trust in.

Oh how she could stand by---and care.

She was quite ordinary in life and in looks,

Evoking no admiring stare.

She loved little children and small talk and books.

And when I needed a friend, she was there.

She left but a handful of things when she died—

Some clippings of poems and a prayer,

A faded old picture of friends by her side,

Young and smiling, near a school house somewhere…

Her mother’s eyeglasses in a time-worn black case,

An old tablet that was falling apart,

Some tiny dried flowers in a small rosebud vase,

And a locket in the shape of a heart.

She left one thing that I didn’t expect:

This feeling of loss I’ve since known.

She was SO low key that I didn’t reflect

On her dearness until she was gone.

What a feeling of loss deeply planted!

I was somewhat surprised it was there.

I can see now how I took her for granted

Just because she loved me. She cared.

THE UNACCLAIMED

Here’s to the aged and ill and alone

And those who seek to soothe them.

Here’s to the myriad worthy unknown.

Some accolades are due them.

Here’s to the many who fail to grasp fame

And those not inclined to the fray,

Who faithfully toil at a job mundane

Day after day after day.

Here’s to the man of meager lot

Who condescends not to importune,

Who’s thankful instead for the little he’s got

And craves not another man’s fortune.

Here’s to the humble who hear no applause

And seldom receive any praise,

Who view with compassion other men’s flaws

Though never condoning mean ways.

Here’s to the faithful who hold the world up

On diligent shoulders, resigned

To do what is honest, avoid the corrupt

And yield not to greed, nor malign.

Here’s to the sad who’ve suffered some loss,

And here’s to the weeping ones

Who live with some handicap, carry some cross,

Yet bravely keep on keeping on.

When Christ comes again he may find some

Earth magnates hid---cowering…ashamed…

While the bulk of the ones redeemed will come

From the ranks of the unacclaimed.