For Love of a Pilgrim

For Love of a Pilgrim

Upon this lonely path I tread
The unknown road lies up ahead
A weary pilgrim on her way
To journey by the light of day

Beneath the bright-lit sky above
No further than the arms of love
That heav’n itself should reach me round
To hold me steady, safe and sound

While onto some great unknown morrow
Through joy and mirth, with pain and sorrow
The winding path yet holds her course
While twain the lines their sides enforce

For life is but a journey long
Not for the fast or swift and strong
Not to pursue some self-made goal
Nor for vainglory of the soul

To live is to love, to love, to live
To love is to serve, to serve, to give
Our mortal life holds us to earth
Immortal love our second birth

No man’s journey is complete
Without the sound of anthem sweet
Of love in singing, makes her song
That moments passing may prolong

The sacred music from heaven flow
In hearts that yearn on earth below
To find of love its joy divine
The utmost bliss of God’s design

For on the lonely pilgrim way
The glory of love must come to stay
For when the dusk of eve shall fall
Love mirrors the sky, its heavenward call

To shine the light that knows true love
And whisper to the stars above
Who look down as we make our way
To journey’s end, the break of day

My Magic Moment

I wish I had a golden wand and with a little flick,
I could stop the sands of time from flowing quite so quick,
And with a little magic turn I could return perhaps
To a day for which I yearn now buried in my past

And I could sit for just an hour at child-hoods breakfast table,
To re-live happy memories of family, food and stable,
The chatter of a care-free clan as hungry mouths are fed,
Oh, I did not see back then, how much we really had

I'd like to swing one pleasant hour beneath that willow tree,
To romp in pastures of my youth with heart and spirit free,
To cherish every minute as it slips into the deep
And make each memory in it a treasure I can keep

I'd take the words that I regret and by God's love and grace
A kinder word I now would let slip out to take its place,
And I'd pray for a tender heart and for a listening ear,
Within my magic moment with my whole family near

But I don't have a golden wand and I can't fly away,
But I've a golden moment now and it is called 'today'
So I'll ask God to help me see the treasure He's placed in it,
And turn to golden memory each magic little minute

Refrigerator Door Treasures

So many pictures adorn my fridge's door,
There is hardly a space for anymore.
I plan to weed out a few someday,
But which one can I bear to throw away?

These treasures I really want to keep.
Gladness and joy to my heart they reap.
They are dear samples of my grandkids' art
That I cherish and hold close to my heart.

God gives grandparents grandkids to love
As He blesses our hearts from up above.
He knows grandparents receive much joy
From a loving grandchild, a girl or boy.

My fridge door has that cluttered look.
Maybe someday I can compile a book
Of all these treasures on this door,
But now I must find room for one more.

When I see these lovely pictures each day,
For each grandchild, I remember to pray.
I thank God for these children so dear,
For into my life they bring much cheer.

When I was young,
I often clung,
to many little things.
I'd reach up high,
again retie,
my mama's apron strings.

I sometimes did,
what mom forbid,
although she'd make it clear.
Thoughts still linger.
I remember,
through each fleeting year.

Acquainted still,
her stories thrill,
with many left untold.
I can't go back,
though mem-ries track,
to years I'd rather hold.

I'm lost in thought,
it can't be caught,
despite my futile search -
mama singing,
mama bringing,
this small boy to church.

Though I was touched,
and changed so much,
through Christ, the perfect One -
I cannot stay,
time slips away,
from all that she had done.

I try to grasp,
and hands I clasp,
around those many things -
but mem-ry strands,
slip through my hands -
just like those apron strings.

I miss her so.
Emotions show.
There's moistness in my eyes.
I can't withhold,
though I am old,
my oft guilt-ridden cries.

Though sometimes sad,
I'm always glad,
whenever I think of -
my mama's cares,
my mama's prayers,
and her most precious love.

The Seasons Follow

The twilight falls and day is gone.
The sun gets up and morning comes.
The hands of time push slowly through.
You're gone and I'm still missing you.

Across the way a robin sings.
He seems to say 'At last it's spring.
The leaves return to hold the tree
But never shall your arms hold me.

The seasons follow one by one.
The dawn will reach the setting sun.
The rose will come to touch the vine
But no more shall your hand touch mine.

The seasons change from day to day
But they return the same sweet way.
Time marches on to start anew...
But how I long to be with you.