Ever Missed ... A repost, but I had forgotten this one.

When they meet

If they met

If words 

Were never spoken

Could they pass

If bodies pressed

Would hearts 

Be never broken

Time would say

If it may

If lips

Were never kissed

That such pain

Lived in shame

For love

That's ever missed.

Henry is 14!!!

Today is Henry's 14th Birthday!!!! What an amazing creative  mind.... He is still a boy and not to stained by the world around him. I am very grateful to our Lord Jesus.

Henry McHenry

Henry McHenry lived in a tree

And for he,

It was the only,

Well, the only place to be.

Each day he would listen,

To his thoughts with intent

Devising a way,

To be less, discontent

Not that he did not,

Enjoy all he’d acquired

He looked everyday,

And everyday he admired.

His achievements were grand,

From intentions to inventions

With gadgets and gizmos,

Beyond all convention

Made from odd things,

Only the bold could acquire

Wrestled from wreckage,

And things less desired

Items no one wanted

Discarded and rotten

Broken and battered

And sometimes forgotten

Items of inspiration

Others considered worthless

Though Henry’s discontentment

Valued them as priceless

So Henry’s irritation

Was meant to teach a lesson

For Henry, discontentment

Really was a blessing

It moved him to be different

Caused him to achieve

Reminded him to dream

What no one would believe

Henry McHenry lived in a tree

And for he

It was the perfect

The perfect place to be!

Happy Birthday Mom! Mary Green

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!

Mary Green would have been 80 Today,and everyday I miss her. I posted this originally the day after she went to be with her Lord. 









Last night my mother passed over after a long fight with cancer, and my family is in both mourning and  celebration for the beauty that the Lord God has shown to those that love him. We do not mourn as those whom have no hope. Blessed be the name of our God! 

She would have been 73 in August and was a woman of very special design. She was crazy, caring, quick to forgive ,for she had been forgiven much and knew the value of God's mercy. 

When I was little, our house was the place where all the children wanted to come, and she was the biggest reason for our popularity. She knew how to make a person feel welcome, and had a great ability to converse with anyone of any race , creed, or disposition. She was always active in anything her children were into, from Teen Club in Beaufort S.C. back in the 1960's and 70's, football , baseball, basketball, cheerleading, and even soccer ( long before there were soccer moms). Our house was always full.

She liked to panic about things...lol.... She was always in a hurry in my younger days, which is probably because she had to raise five kids while my father was overseas defending the United States. She did it, and all her children are alive and doing well. 

She wasn't nearly perfect and did many things that caused her family much grief, but so what! I have learned over many years to forgive...There is no other way to live. Even though I lived hundreds of miles away, we talked almost everyday and I looked forward to those conversations,growing a little more and each time knowing  more about this beautiful woman and why she was the person she came to be.

We will care for her remains by residing them in the same location as our father in Beaufort S.C., which even though we lived many places over the years, Beaufort was always "home". 

May we all remember to plead the "Fifth" , the Fifth Commandment that is, to honor our father and our mother in life and in eventual death, for they will all pass over one day. 

May all those who read this and take occasion to remember, honor , and maybe for most of us, forgive our parents in this life, so when this time comes you live  with no regret. Today what a peace it was for me to know that I had  for once in my life, left nothing to regret concerning the honoring of either my father , or mother. I have many regrets in my life, but not in respect to my parents.

God has reclaimed what was always his, blessed be the name of the Lord!

Remembering the Low Country of South Carolina

These last two posts are a reflection into the world that I still call home. I grew up in Beaufort, S.C. from the age of three until I was about eleven. It was during the Vietnam War and my dad was a lifer Marine ( Siemper Fi), he is buried there. It is the fondest place I know and although it has been a lifetime since I lived there, it will always be home.

She calls for me……

She calls for me on sand she lays
From an old light house in starry gaze
Tall sailing ships with sturdy mast
Warriors shouts who's fate was cast

She calls for me from way back when
Tabby forts and rivers bend
Bare foot boys on hot sandy ground
Boyhood friends all gathered round

She calls for me from childish past
Sandy beaches and wiregrass
Blue crabs caught on a single string
Up from the bottom shiny and clean

She calls for me in my mind today
Rescues me from world gone astray
Spanish moss on ancient oak trees
She beckons me my "Low Country"

Caroline (Bloom)

Among the thorns, a flower blooms

From smallest of buds, till now

When sunlight rushes to its call

Leaves whispering to know, just how

Could this be beauty, from rugged bush

Transforming to lovely, before our eyes

Through the storm clouds of darker days

To the peace of more brighter sky's

The warmth that bathed the started bloom

And pointed thorns that kept her charm

That hid her newness from the world

Crowdedly protecting her from selfish harm

A glimpse excited the garden in awe

As the bloom finally broke from its bed

For what the garden hoped to see that day

The beauty, of a single bloom of red

In the days, the Spring of new life

She was the bloom all sought, so fine

And the gardener just smiled, as they gazed

At the wonderful beauty, of his Caroline



Trying times may come my bloom, but you are always the rarest  and beautiful of flowers in my garden.

Field of Folly ....

Today I walked along a path
Barefoot beside a wall of holly
And came upon an open gate
Then walked into a "Field of Folly"

Upon the grass that grew inside
Were flowers most beautiful and rare
Catching the fragrant color of their blooms
The hours passing by as I did stare

Not only were the blossoms there
But in taller grass, well hidden
To keep the lookers and passers by
From a box which was forbidden

What could be in this well crafted cube
With hinges and lock of a golden treasure
And dare I break the silver chorded seal
To reveal it's often sought for pleasure

Now who could resist such a temptation
Finding contents of worth, so true
Heart bounding anxiously I broke the lock
And hoped for this treasure brand new

But in the box to my surprise
Was a treasure that few had ever taken
A simple request on common paper
That "The Dreamer must awaken"

Why politicians will not act against Obama. Cult of Diversity

This will not be popular, however the the religious adherence to the cult of diversity has created this monster which we see before us. The left and right  have so endoctrinated the populous into this cult, that the adversaries of the current administration are permanently frozen. They can not and will not act Constitutionally against a President that has and will continue not obey the oath he swore before God, and they will not act because of the color of his skin.

We have cuddled and coddled this monster called Diversity from a baby. It has grown up and is now on the verge of devouring the hands that feed it.

We will have righteous men and women that fear not to be called bigot or racist, or we will have cowards who are not worthy of their offices, both political or religious.

We have spoken before about how the simple act of kindness by a man on a bus may have changed the course of history. Just doing what every good man teaches his sons about kindness toward women.

There are righteous men Red,Yellow,Black, and White, but they must now shout it from the roof tops and the mountain tops, (paraphrasing a great man)or the nation that has spread the Gospel to the world and engaged in liberty,will be laid in the ashes of history.

God created all peoples to glorify his name, but they are all different  peoples. The diversity cult seeks not to embrace these qualities of God given uniqueness, but to destroy them in service to the Adversary.

They seek homogenization , not true diversity.

Special Day January 19th. Birthday Wishes!

Ode To Robert E. Lee

In the hollow eyes of starving men


With worn out shoes, but still fight within


Would you have made a solemn vow


If in poverty, your kin would now bow


Could you have foreseen, the hurt, remorse


As in honor you fought, from your brave white horse


Gray hair flowing as you lead your nation strong


For only four years was the struggle long


O, I think you would not have sheaved that day your swords


Knowing the wicked would become your children's "lords"


I walked that fence and that day I cried


A court house in Virginia where freedom died


In bitter remembrance of a nation of splendor


Sold to Yankee bankers, borrowers, and lenders


You were so brave and all those that followed


But for honor and your family your pride swallowed


O do not be regretful of that single deed


For you are the father of a noble breed........

She Closes Her Eyes

She closes her eyes, drifts away

Eyes flickering as she dreams

Memories of things, bought to mind

Of kind whispers, it would seem

A time that now, recalls a smile

Of something, no one ever “new”

Would remember, from long ago

A recollection, of only you

Rocking there with grey hair down

The peaceful Southern breeze

Recalls with warmth, within her voice

Of a name, now said with ease

Past and Present the line now blurred

Between smiles, corners to edge

A not so common beautiful thought

And a not forgotten pledge

Would hope all others, shared such dreams

That appoints the heart to melt

Reposed in shadowed love, so sweet

And a passion, she has ever felt

An Ode to Yes and No...... ( Stephen's Poem)

An ode to Yes and No ( Stephen's Poem)

  

Here’s an ode to Yes and No,

To what, but maybe isn’t

To things that are, but maybe not

To ideas we must revisit

Stone and bricks, hard and firm

White and black, defined with clarity

To words well meant, you can’t take back

Presumptions reborn with regularity

With freedom to think, and think again

A conscience held captive, by what we know

This simple poem, scribbled in pen

Is just an ode to Yes and No.