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My Favorite “Mother” Poem

To Mother
You painted no Madonnas
On chapel walls in Rome,
But with a touch diviner
You lived one in your home.

You wrote no lofty poems
That critics counted art,
But with a nobler vision
You lived them in your heart.

You carved no shapeless marble
To some high-souled design,
But with a finer sculpture
You shaped this soul of mine.

You built no great cathedrals
That centuries applaud,
But with a grace exquisite
Your life cathedraled God.

Had I the gift of Raphael,
Or Michelangelo,
Oh, what a rare Madonna
My mother’s life would show!
–Thomas W. Fessenden

 

Poem For Dieters

If you have ever gone on a diet before, this poem is for you!

The DIE in DIEt

I would not know, I could not know, till time came ‘round to try it

Just why the word within the word, why is there DIE in DIEt?

I’ve eaten rich and sumptuous food that the holiday season brings;

Candies, cookies, sweets galore and a host of fattening things.

But now I lay those things to rest. Their beckoning, I must quiet.

I face again the simple truth. There is a DIE in DIEt.

Oh, the aisles of the grocery store contain such tempting stuff,

Like cinnamon rolls and chocolate bars and jars of marshmallow fluff.

Their voices sometimes scream to me, “Hey, you’ve got to try it!”

So with authority, I must yell back, “There is a DIE in DIEt!”

I must confess a kind of stress. It’s really kind of hard

To bid adieu to grease soaked foods and those enriched with lard.

Some cooking methods now must cease. I won’t deep fry or pan fry it,

As I beseech the help of God to keep the DIE in DIEt.

1/1/09

 

A Fence Or An Ambulance?

Originally posted on Write At Home:

I randomly flipped to this poem today while opening the Best Loved Poem Of The American People. I love it! From doing a little research, I learned that the author of this poem, Joseph Malins wrote this in 1913 in support of prohibition of alcohol. There is an important spiritual principle that I see illustrated in this poem. We need to have some fences or boundaries in our lives when it comes to living for God. Some things need to be “off limits”, because they are just not good for us and can cause us to “fall off the cliff” and lose out with God. I’m thankful for men of God that have preached the Word and helped me to see areas in my life where I needed to put up a fence. Like the saying goes, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

Fence or Ambulance?

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Posted by on May 5, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Then Laugh

I discovered this poem a few years ago in Best Loved Poem of The American People. It’s much more pleasant to be around people who can still laugh and smile in spite of what they may be going through than to be around a whiner and complainer. Lord, help me to remember that when the trials come! :-)

Then Laugh
By Bertha Adams Backus

Build for yourself a strong box,
fashion each part with care;
When it’s strong as your hand can make it,
put all your troubles there;

Hide there all thought of your failures;
and each bitter cup that you quaff;
Lock all your heartaches within it,
Then sit on the lid and laugh.

Tell no one else its contents,
Never its secrets share;
When you’ve dropped in your care and worry
keep them forever there;

Hide them from sight so completely
That the world will never dream half;
Fasten the strongbox securely—
Then sit on the lid and laugh.

 

The Reading Mother

Next to teaching them about God, I feel that reading out loud to my children was the best thing I’ve ever done for them as far as their schooling goes. It is a painless way to teach vocabulary, geography, morals and a host of other important things without ever leaving your home. We also have many happy memories that are directly linked with books that we shared together. Strickland Gillian was obviously happy too that he had a mother who read to him.

The Reading Mother
by
Strickland Gillian

I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
“Blackbirds” stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings–
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be–
I had a Mother who read to me.

 

Nature Of Sin

writeathome:

Sin is such a deceiver. The devil does his best to make it look attractive to folks. If that wasn’t the case, nobody would want to sin. I head a preacher use this illustration of the fly and the spider web and turned it into a poem.

Originally posted on Write At Home:

Nature of Sin

 

The young housewife with

the basket of dirty laundry in

her arms hears the annoying drone

of a fly as she walks toward

the washer.

 

Just above the slop sink is

a new spider’s web that wasn’t

there last week. The sun peeks

through the garage window, shining

directly on the web, causing each

silky strand to shimmer.

 

As the fly circles the web

repeatedly,

this housewife realizes the

magnificent beauty of a spider’s

home has this fly

MESMERIZED.

And as a spectator, she too

is mesmerized.

 

Eventually, the fly comes

too close to the web and

buzzes frantically,

ensnared by the

dazzling deathtrap.

 

After completing her task,

the young housewife

returns to her house

convinced that

some sermons are too powerful for words.

 

6/2/08

 

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Posted by on May 2, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Don’t Quit!

This is a classic poem with a message we need to be reminded of again from time to time. Enjoy

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low, and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
when he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow.
You may succeed with another blow

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds no doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit,
It’s when things seem worse,
that you must not quit.

Author:- Unknown

 
 
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