Here are most of the poems I have written. Some have been lost. Maybe someday when I am gone, somebody might have some interest in them.
My Poetry
By Rita Johnson Carrillo with My Brother, Chris
This poem was written by my brother Chris and me when we were quite young.
HALLOWEEN
Halloween night is full of fright, There are ghosts and Goblins and Jack'O Lanterns shining bright.
Trick or treater all around, running up and down the town.
You may see a witch flying high on her broomstick in the sky,
With a black cat on the back of her broomstick,
The goblins think she's a Halloween chick.
The moon is sailing in the sky,
You hear her cackle as she rides by.
Skeletons behind the shack,
May creep up upon your back.
Goblins underneath the porch--Watch out!, They'll scorch you with their torch.
Skeletons hiding behind tombstones, you can hear the rattling or their bones.
Boogie men in all the trees,
Trying to see all they can see.
Ghosts creeping out of their grave,
You'd better head for the nearest cave.
The old witch offer me some witches's brew,
I think I'd rather eat cabbage stew.
Just at one o'clock in the
morning,
The spooks come out without any warning.
Tonight you'd better not sleep out,
Or the spooks will get you without any doubt.
You see floating eyes there and here, Aren't you glad Halloween comes only once a year?
SCHOOL DAYS
By Rita and Chris
In the misty morning chilly, I hear my mother calling "Willy,"
"Get up for school and come and eat, you're going to be late for school, by Pete."
So I get up and eat the nasty mush,
And I walk to school in the muddy slush. And while I'm walking to school, I say, "Now for another boring day."
The school bell rings as soon as I get to school, I always must obey all rules.
Sit up straight in your seat each day, Don't bring object with which to play.
The teacher says "Did you get the answers to the questions I assigned you?, or did you look at the answers of the person behind you?"
Then comes recess, what a ball.
I go out and take a fall,
And someone hits me with a ball.
Someone yells out "You crazy fool!, You made our ball go in the pool! I say "Look out yourself you crazy clown, you nearly made me break my crown!"
The lunchtime comes, what a crowd, Just to get a little chow.
We crowd and push and push and shove, and crowd into the line above. When we get there we see cabbage
soup, to crowd in this line, I was sure a stupe!
When lunch is over, what a bore,
Now we have to head for the classroom door.
To do arithmetic and all that stuff, I wish I could think of a way to sluff.
When the bell rings we shout "Hooray," The end of another boring day!
AUTUMN DAYS
Autumn days bring leave a-falling,
Autumn days bring birds a-calling.
Flying, hear their wings humming. Flying South for winter's coming.
Autumn days bring harvest mornings, Jack Frost may come without any warning.
Autumn days bring mornings that are misty, moisty.
I'll get near the fire, where it is toasty.
Autumn days bring leaves of gold, red and brown, falling, falling to the ground.
Autumn nights bring Jack Frost humming, to the town he now is coming.
He paints your windows frosty white, while you are sleeping through the night.
I know Autumn is my favorite season, Because it's so beautiful is the reason.
This poem, "Springtime," was written when I was about nine or 10. It was published in the Farm Journal around 1953-54.
SPRINGTIME
As I was walking on day in Spring,
I heard a bird so sweetly sing, And babbling brook goes rippling by, Is interesting to the eye.
To see the farmers weed and hoe,
And dig the earthworms down below.
To see the flowers sprout and bloom, and mothers sweeping with their brooms.
The children play in the cool Spring air, while Grandpa Howard rocks in his chair.
The robins make their nest so bright,
So they may sleep there when comes the night.
For me, I just go walking 'bout,
To see the flowers bloom and sprout.
This poem, "My Dog," was written by my brother, Chris, when he was very young.
MY DOG
I have a dog named Jimmy Brown, Sometimes he's a crazy clown. He climbs to the cupboard,
Which is out of his reach,
And sometimes he will even eat a green peach.
OUR BEAUTIFUL WORLD
The morning sky, so blue above,
The cool fresh morning air,
The far-off cooing of a dove,
The world, it is so fair.
The green trees swaying in the breeze, The perfumed smell of flowers,
In the meadow, the colts frolic and tease, Such pleasant summer hours!
The small brook ripples on the lea,
The grass smells damp and sweet,
Far-off, the distant, azure sea,
God's whole world's beneath our feet!
The tall corn grows near six feet high,'Tis first to see the sun, It drinks in the light from the clear, blue sky, And basks in its light 'til day is done.
The children play in the smooth, warm sand, No cares or woes have they.
They splash in the brook, have lemonade stands, Never resting 'til the end of day.
The humming of a tractor in the far-off field, The farmers mowing their crop.
They must bring in all the yields, It's dusk before they stop.
On the veranda, a mother snapping beans. Hear the popping sound they make, On the line
The laundries hang, white and clean.
In the evening, a picnic is planned at the lake.
In the pasture, a brown cow is munching grass, A red barn enhances the view.
The lazy summer hours pass,
Enchanting, wonderful, new.
SUMMER DAYS
Summer days are glorious, So beautiful to see.
The white fluffy clouds, The flowers bloom, The shining, crystal sea.
The babbling brook, the tall green trees, the crickets that sing at night.
The rich, warm soil, the grass so green, the humming birds in flight.
A picnic in the lush, green park
The watermelon and soda pop.
The singing of a little lark,
A visit to the ice cream shop.
Taking a swim in the cool, blue lake,
Just lying down and looking at the sky.
Getting a hoe and shovel and rake,
Making a fire and cooking outside.
Setting off fireworks in the night, Down by the beach we watch the tide.
Watching the gulls until they disappear from sight.
Summer is glorious, happy and
gay, I wish it were summer every day.
THE NIGHT
Who can find beauty in the night,
The deep dark chasm of darkness?
Where only a solitary window shows a light
Of some insomniac passing time.
Who can find wonder in the night
The mysterious, ominous blackness? Where the only sound is a stealthy cat, searching for vermin in the night.
Who can find peace in the night
Where silence is the only sound?
Where only owls and bats take flight, and barns and houses hushed in the quiet.
Who can find splendor in the night
In the deep, thick sable curtains?
Where the scenes of the day are hidden from sight,
Yes, the night holds many treasures.
THE PLAYFUL WIND
Come, said the wind on day, Come watch me blow the leaves away. Watch me toss the angry seas, Watch me childrens kites I tease. I like to blow your hat away, I like to frolic and to play. You can't see me, but I see you. You know of all the mischief I can do. Whenever I am roaring 'bout, you stay inside, you don't want to come out.
MISTY DAYS
Misty days clouded in a shroud, The sun trying to peep through the view. We are living in a cloud, the clear days, they have been so few.
The trees are glistening with frost,
They are beautiful to see.
Out in the mist, we are lost
In a fairyland eternity.
WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?
Where has the time gone? I'd like to know? The years have melted away like snow. It seems just yesterday that I was a girl, living in my child-like world. Where has the time gone? I wish I knew. It seems like my life is nearly through.
There are so many things I would like to have done, but time faded away like the setting sun.
HOW HAPPY IS THE LITTLE FISH
How happy is the little fish,
who swims in rippling brook.
He hasn't really got a care, except the angler's hook.
How happy is the little bird who warbles in the tree.
His meal is his only care, of catching worm or flea.
How happy is the little, green frog as he hops into the pond. His only care is catching flies and hopping all day long.
How happy are the pretty flowers growing near the wall.
Their only care is getting showered and growing straight and tall.
But would we really be happy as a fish swimming in a brook?
It would get kind of boring avoiding the angler's hook. And although the birds can fly so high into the clear, blue sky, A bird could never read a book or his name learn to write. And though the frog is happy with his life in the pond, I think you and i would soon tire of catching flies all day long. The flowers are very pretty, growing near the wall,
But they can't walk or talk or think of anything at all.
Yes, God has given us the most of every living thing.
Our minds can learn to read and write, to pray to God and sing.
I am thankful for God's plan that gave dominion unto man. We, unlike the creatures and flowers of the land, have reasoning and can understand, that we were sent to prove ourselves here on earth, to live by God's law and prove our worth.
SEA WONDERS
The sunlight glistening over azure sea, a rainbow of colors, a joy to see. A small school of fishes beneath the colors bright, A myriad of silver streaks, a pure delight.
A light breeze blowing, the salty sea air, Fluffy, white clouds high in the sky, the world's so fair.
Beneath these crystal waters of pale blue-green, another world is hidden, a world we've never seen.
Blue, violet, coral, are the fishes colors gay, a prismatic flash of hues, darting quickly away.
A fairyland of enchanted forests beneath the suns bright eyes, but are they really delicate plans or animals in disguise?
An underwater ecstasy of forests, gardens and reefs, such beauty and enchantment are far beyond belief.
The sea holds many mysteries, our imagination fills, From its vast blue waters to its delicate seashells. Of all of natures beauties, the sea was among the first. Of all of God's creations, He made the seas before the earth
MEDITATING ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON
I stood alone upon a hill, a hill looking down on meadow green. Of cows munching pasture grass, so serene, and heard the sound of rippling rill.
I stood alone in the afternoon, the afternoon warmed by bright sunlight.
I saw the daffodils yellow, bright, and heard the birds singing a tune.
I stood alone on the earth so brown, so brown and fertile is the soil. I saw below, the farmers toil, and frisky colts frolicking 'round.
I stood alone beneath the sky, the sky so cloudless and so blue. These moments so solitary, so few, are so pleasing to my eye.
I stood alone as the twilight creeps, creeps over the meadowlands below, Life is hidden in the purple glow, I know I must go the stars will soon peep.
TO MOM DAD ON THEIR 50TH ON THEIR 50TH ANNIVERSARY
You folks are always happy to lend a listening ear,
Whenever You are needed, you're always very near.
If we ever have a problem, it's never too big for you,
There's never been a favor that you folks wouldn't do.
You show us that you love us by your actions everyday,
You show us that you care for us by the kind words that you say.
We just couldn't repay you, even if we tried 'twould be in vain,
So we'll just have to say "We love you," there, we'll say it once again.
Dear Dad and Mom we this day meet,
To celebrate this special fete.
For 50 years have passed quickly away,
And now it's your golden wedding day.
You've been an example of love and truth,
And though you've said "Goodbye" to youth,
Your life has really just begun,
So take the time to have some fun.
We, your children, wish to thank you two,
For all the little kindness' that you do.
You're never too busy to help us on our way,
To express all we have in our hearts would take many a day.
So, we just hope you will enjoy this treasured day,
We love you and don't think of you as old and gray.
And although your hair may be sparse or white as the snow,
Have a great 50th and many more to go!
HOPE FOR SPRING
The skies are somber, the skies are gray,
The sun lies hidden in a misty haze.
The grass lies covered beneath the snow, A chilly wind begins to blow. The earth is sleeping, it lies as though dead. No flowerlets are showing their pretty heads.
No robins are singing a lilting song. The days are dreary lonely, long. Hurry, Spring, haste on your way. Bring to us a brighter day. Warm the winds, melt the snow, Let grasses once more their greenery show. Let our souls, that are to the every bone chilled,
Be warmed with the gladness that Spring doth fill.
THE LONG ROAD
I once took a road that was winding and long, a winding road that led me to sin. And once I had transversed that crooked way, I couldn't find my way out again. I searched far and wide for a path leading out a path leading to virtue and light. But I could not find the gate that opened the way, though I tried with my heart, soul and might. But I looked and my friends stood in the way of the gate, the gate that would set me free. My friends wanted me there, wanted me to stay, although I wanted to flee. But my friends lived in sin, and were leading me there, I knew another road I had to find. so I left my friends and left that winding road, and now I have found peace of mind.
KINGS OF THE FORESTS
Tall, kings of the forest, stately and tall. So regal there, the sunlight rays barely penetrating. A squirrel carrying her nuts, her winter's supply, scurries 'neath these royal forest guards, sentinels of the forest. Hushed, almost holy, a sacred, hallowed shrine. Shady, still, a brook ripples, the only sound heard. Then a few birds lift their voice in song. Insects begin to chirp, little mice scurry, Ever the kings of the forests rule, glorying in their subjects.
GOD'S WORLD
In verdant woods the wildflowers grow beside the river as it flows, toward the sea. And in the sky, the birds gaily singing fly, oblivious to the world below. My soul is dead, short days ago, it shone, felt joy and sunsets glow, but now it is an empty shell. Once my heart beat to the of life, but this is God's world, once long ago, we lived with Him, knew His great love, and now we are sent to earth to grow. so strive each day to do His will, His arm is stretched out to you still. Be it yours to clasp on tight, for if you fail to do what's right, You'll never know salvation's thrill, In God's great world.
ON IDLENESS AND SITTING
You sit all day and think of how your life will go, and so, it goes.
You dream about the thing you ought to do, and stew.
You say you haven't got the time to do a thing, but dream.
You say everyone has talent and you have none, ho hum.
You say the world just seems to pass you by, and sigh.
And while you're saying life is just the pits, and you sit,
Other are out writing all the books, they're out learning how to cook, they're out catching all the fish, while you sit and wish.
DESPAIR
Despair, like a dark, evil cloak, came and wrapped itself around my shoulders and engulfed my soul in the shadows of thick, black darkness. An evil spirit approached like the Deadly Reaper with his ominous sickle. His hollow black eyes piercing my very soul. I felt myself sinking into an abysmal pit of hopelessness, to which there is no end. Despair smiled as I felt myself ensnared by the wall of Hell. His deadly skeletal smile of victory. In desperation, cried to God to deliver me from this oppression. Hark!, the darkness is gone, broken by a golden beam descending from Heaven. The deadly reaper's smile vanished. He turned his head in defeat. God has heard my prayer. I've not been defeated by despair!
LONELINESS
A solitary window shows a light of some poor lonely person waiting out the night. Silence is the only sound for a lonely one. Lonely is the night, lonely the morn to come. No one knows who sits beside the solitary window there, no one knows their heartaches, if they did, would they care? The widow lady down the street fixes her hair, but no one cars. She keeps her home so clean and nice, but no one has ever been there twice. She makes a fine meal, aroma fills the air, but she never has anyone her table to snare. She toils in her flower garden, no one stops by, she works until the evening, then turns with a sigh. She enters her gray, quiet sitting room and then, she knows how lonely the long hours will pass once again. When she passes away, she will be just another name. For this gross injustice, who is to blame? Is it I? Is it you? Did we do all that we could do? That you might be lonely as many folks are? Do what you can to make their lives bright, someday you may be just like them and you will truly need a friend.
LONELY IS
Lonely is a table for two, when no one's sitting there but you.
Lonely is a king-sized bed, where only one lies down their head.
Lonely is a sweet love tune,
That's words were never meant you.
Lonely is a party bright, where you sit unnoticed all the night.
Lonely is two lovers walking down a lane, wishing you were doing the same.
Lonely is a mother and her little one, wishing you had one to love.
Lonely is a telephone, that never rings even though you're home.
A dark still night, stars that show no light, lips that have known no kiss, that's what lonely is.
I LIVE, BUT AM NOT ALIVE
I live, but i am not alive, I breathe, but waste precious air, I sit, but only soil the chair, I walk, but walk nowhere.
I speak, but do not say word, I work, but at only meaningless tasks.
I write, but no one reads my words, I love, but no one knows I care.
I weep, but no one hears my cry, I pray, but God hears not my prayers. I laugh, but it's a giddy laugh. I sleep away hours.
Yes, I live, but a am not alive. I seldom smile, but who is to see? I breathe, but only foul the air, I have a name, but none
When I die, who will mourn for me? When I am free of earthly strive. Not a soul, I venture to say,
For I lived, but I was not alive.
WINTER NIGHT
The cool lakes shines in the wintry night. The icicles hang from the wall. The moon shines on the new-fallen snow. The evergreens are tall. The cat sits on the windowsill, shivering from the cold. It's still and black 'neath the bony trees, the year is growing old.
The whole world lies in slumber deep, the only thing that creeps, is field mouse or alley cat searching for a feast. The ebony sky engulfs the town with thick black, velvet
curtains all around.
REMINISCING ON A WINTER'S
MORNING
This morning the snow has been falling ever since I woke. As I look out the window, I see two horses shivering in the snow. The world is wrapped in a beautiful whiteness now. The fields are white, the farmhouses and trees are white. If I could but paint a picture, I'd love to be in the woods on a snowy evening and capture the beauty and stillness of the deep, white on canvas. There is something about the quiet of a beautiful winter's day that makes one feel an enchanting glow about them. As the snow falls and we are confined in our cozy warm homes, we know that the lovely white snow will help us enjoy a good summer, when we will all be outside with the lakes full, plenty of water because of the snow. And our gardens growing pretty and green. Yes, the now is more than beauty.
AN AFTERNOON AT THE GREAT SALT LAKE
A lonely gull sits on the shore of the great Salt Lake. The lake where the sky meets the water and the water meets the sand and, you can't tell the lake from sky or sand. The water's white, the sky's white, the sand's white, the world's white. All are fused in a solitary whiteness. Then, from nowhere, in the vast whiteness that is the sky, come more gulls, crying their cry through the blinding whiteness. Soaring gracefully into the whiteness, slowly they disappear, leaving the whiteness, the blank, blinding, whiteness, that is the lake, sand and sky. That seems to be the whole world.
THE REAL MEANING OF CHRISTMAS
When you think of Christmas, what do you think of first? Is it a bottle of French cologne or a brand new purse? Is it a digital watch, or a leather coat? A ballerina doll, a toy car or boat? If this is the first thought you have, take a pause. The you don't have the real meaning of Christmas.
MOTHER
I'd like to tell you about a person who's helped me in many ways. Whenever I was tearful, she wiped my tears away. She smiled when I was angry. She comforted me in pain. She helped me through the bitter storm into a brighter day. She's much more than an angel. She's much more than a queen. She's much more than a movie star, whose face is on the screen. She's always there beside me whether I'm wrong or right. She helped through the darkest hour, into the shining light. I know you know this person of whom I'm speaking of. For she's my loving mother, and mother to me is love.
FATHERS
Father's are always there when you need them. When a task is impossible, fathers can always do it. It seems that no matter what the problem, fathers can always figure out the answers. I think next to God, a father can do just about anything.
LITTLE THINGS
A little smile, a little hug. A little twinkle of the eye. A little spoken word of love. A little nod, a little "hi." It's the little things in life that mean the most to me. And the little things in life are absolutely free.
QUIET THINGS
The quiet of a still hushed glade. The quiet of a stately tall evergreen. The quiet as day begins to fade. The quiet of a mountain stream. The quiet of the dawning day. The quiet of the purple twilight. The quiet of a soaring bluejay. The quiet slumber of the night. The quiet of God's eternal love. the quiet of a peaceful thought. The quiet of the heavens above. The quiet of a prayer that's sought. Quiet things, peaceful things. All the quiet things nature brings. Quiet time in prayer to kneel. Quiet things are best I feel.
LOVE
Love is what we need in this great world of ours. The world is too much with us, we seek for earthly powers. We should take time to see the needs of everyone, instead, we worry about ourselves, and if we are having fun. In the service of others we would find a little more joy. For life is much more wonderful when we ourselves employ.
THE SEASONS
Spring--green, lush, colorful. Warm rain, gentle breezes. Flowers showing their faces again. Children flying kites on the hill. Vast meadows full of color. Kittens scampering up trees, whose leaves now show green.
Summer--babbling brooks, blue skies filled with fluffy, white clouds; lemonade. Warm lazy afternoons in the backyard; root beer. Parades, picnics, hide 'n seek; watermelon. Children running through sprinklers, walking barefoot at night with the pavement still hot from the day.
Fall--golden leaves, red leaves, brown leaves, falling everywhere. Smoky bonfires. A chill in the air. Frosty mornings, pumpkins, squash and corn sheaves. School bells, books, mittens, coats. Getting up in the dark. Coming home from school in the dark. Halloween, goblins, witches, jack O lanterns, pumpkin pie.
Winter--White delight, sleds, frosty panes, icy roads, pine trees glistening in the snow. Candles in the windows all aglow. Christmas trees and sleigh bells. A hushed stillness in the white night. beautiful!
Winter
An old man with a gray beard with icy gray fingers, cutting to the bone. Gray skies, the sun long hidden from view. Ice around the window panes. trees bare limbs, reaching up like bony fingers searching for the sun. Quiet, lifeless, the little stream is but an empty ditch hidden over with dead weeds and gray snow. The world seems dead, like not a soul dwells here, but look again. Houses with windows are aglow. Smoke curls from the chimneys. Within their homes, people are very much alive and cheery, waiting for the world to come alive again.
WHEN I WAS YOUNG
When I was young, it seemed that the sun lasted forever and a day.
Now that I am old, the sun seems only a moment shows its rays, and then it is the end of day.
IN THE HUSH OF THE EVENING
In the hush of the evening, in twilight's last glow.
In the stillness, faint and low. I think of the blessings God has given to me, the blessings of nature and simplicity. Of my sweet children, who number seven, which God has loaned me down from heaven. Of parents dear and husband kind. No better family could I find. So, in the hush of the evening at the close of the day, When the moon begins to show forth its rays. I take time to meditate and give thanks above for the light and life and God's eternal love.
THE SAME OLD GRIND
Ah, life, what can you offer me? You tedious day in day out bore? I wake in the morning, retire at night, I live and breath and nothing more.
There must be something here on earth, to prove that my life has some worth. But day in, day out, the time flies by. Night to morning, morning to night. And still I live the same old grind, and very little contentment fine.
The still, white winter days move cold and gray, and pass like all the other days.
The dullness of the day dulls my mind, I hope a new lease on life to find.
WINTER MELANCHOLIA
Ah, winter, I grow tired of you! I long for summers sunny days. Of azure water, of snow white beach, and of the sun's warm, fiery rays. I long for warm sand beneath my feet, of the smell of new mown hay. Of perfumed flowers growing near the wall, of the glorious summer days.
Ah, winter rush upon your way, let your snows melt and go to the sea. I long in summers sun to bask, Come back in two years, maybe three!
WALK IN THE AFTERNOON
I took a walk in the afternoon, beneath an August sky. and as I meandered beneath the trees, I thought of you and I. Yes, I thought of all the summer afternoons that you would walk with me, Our hearts, they never knew a care, we were filled with joy and glee. We'd skip and romp the meadow over, now happy we were then! How little did we stop to think of how soon it all would end.
Yes, we'd listen to the larks sing upon the branches high, We'd sit upon the emerald grass and look upon the sky. We'd wade our feet in rippling brook we'd watch the squirrels play. We'd put a blanket on the lawn, and sip cold lemonade. We'd tell each other fairy tales, of princes and of kings, We'd talk of how we'd never part, and many other things. And once in a while, a rabbit would hop by, wiggling nose and ears. Yes, those were happy days my love, we never had a fear. Twas there, my love, I held your hand beneath the summer sky. I asked you then to be my bride, to be always together you and I. You gave me your hand and said to me that we would never part. You told your lasting love for me, told me with all your heart. But, alas, that blessed day of day, to pass it never came. The church didn't open its doors that day, the bells, they never rang. For a fever had been going round, it favored you my dear. The fever came and took you away, and now I am shedding tears. For now beneath the August sky, many years have passed. I haven't found another love, for our love held me fast. And over in the distance, I see your lonely grave. For over thirty years, my dear,
'neath the grasses you have lain. I visit many summer days in the afternoon. And when I think of you my dear, my heart is filled with gloom. But not long from now I'll join you in those heavenly realms above. Yes, some day not long, beneath the grass so green, I lie beside my love.
WHEN I STOP TO THINK
When I stop to think that I haven't a friend, I shouldn't let it get me down. There was once on e who had not a friend to be found, and it didn't make Him frown. When I stop to think that I am lonely, how lonely He must have been. When no one heeded His word, and he was betrayed by one of His friends. He loved, but His loved was not returned, He smiled, but no one cared. He never thought of Himself, of His love, He truly shared.
He was hung upon the cross, for everyone to point and sneer. Yes, His own people hung Him there, and I am sure He shed a tear. For He did more than any man has done, even shedding great drops of blood. They didn't even know through Him, that they would be saved by his love. And He still loved them in the end, after all they did to Him. After they spoke all their hurting words, and lived their lives of sin. May I like Him try to live each day, not letting those hurt me by things that they say, Knowing they just don't understand me, that I may endure to the end.
SONG OF ONE LEFT BEHIND
In the evening when the sun goes down, and purple dusk invades the town; As the pale mauve mist through my window creeps, and all the birds have gone to sleep. I sit alone in my lowly chair and my heart sinks in deep despair. The fire crackles, the hearth is bright, but I find no joy tonight. There once was a time when my heart could sing. There once was a time when my soul had wings.
But now in solitude I sit by the fire, warmly lit. The twilight is ebbing, the darkness is nigh. A charcoal darkness invades the sky. I speak your name, but I know you are gone. gone to another life beyond. The joy we used to share in this home, is gone now forever, and I'm now alone. The shadows from the fire dance on the wall. Outside, the leaves are rustling in the late Fall. The silence is deafening in the November gloam. the darkest of evening, for I'm now alone.
SONG OF ONE GONE
Be not sad my dear, sing no sad song for me. For I know you are lonely, sitting alone at your tea. I didn't want to leave you to sit alone in the night. Watching the dying embers glowing ah, so bright. Sitting in your lonely chair, at the window in despair. How I long to be with you, sitting near the fire warm, seeing your smile, feeling your charm. But I slumber beneath the fallen leaves, and I truly know your grief.
But please be glad, try to smile, for it won't be too long a while, until you and I will be untied for eternity. You are alone and your heart is low. And I miss you more than you will ever know. But I'm not really that far away, and I'll be with you again someday.
ONCE UPON A TIME
Once upon a time many years ago, the sun seemed brighter, it gave more light.
Once upon a time then my days were new, the clouds seemed fluffier, the sky more blue.
Once upon a time, when I was small, the forest seemed lusher, the tress more tall. And every wild flower caught my eye, those were the days when I heard every bird's song, and skipped over the green hills all day long.
I smelled the flowers perfume, I felt the warm earth. Yes, once upon a time, not so long after my birth.
HAPPINESS IS
Happiness is a warm Spring day
Happiness is the smell of new-mown hay
Happiness is clouds, fluffy and white
Happiness is the sunshine bright
Happiness is a rippling brook
Happiness is reading a good book
Happiness is a cute yellow kitten
Happiness is toasty warm mittens
Happiness is a sail boat on the sea
Happiness is feeling free
Happiness is toes in the warm sand
Happiness is holding your hand
Happiness is taking a ride
Happiness is being by your side
Happiness is not hard to find
Because happiness is a state of mine.
THE WIND
Oh I have been to every land, from coast to coast from east to west. I have been to the mountains, been to the valleys, at your door I've been a guest. Sometimes you never know I'm there, you never think of me at all, Yet other times I spoil your sleep, you wish I'd never come to call. But I have traveled very far, and aster still than any bird. by your garden I pass with a whisk, on my way throughout the world. I give the leaves a gentle shake, but sometime cause them fiercely to whirl. I can make the dust turn the sky to gray, make all the flags on main street furl. I toss the sea and make it churn, yes, I control the might tides. I blow the grasses, whip your hair, fly the kites on the hillsides. Yes, I'm the air you breathe each day, I can be a slow and gentle breeze. But when I rush upon my way, I can fall the greatest tree. Yes, I'm the wind, the air that blows, sometimes I'm an unwelcome guest. But I'll go on traveling the world over, from north to south, east to west.
THE MOUNTAINS
The mountains are our heritage, Our sentinel, bulwark and fortress.
'Twas in the mountains our forefathers forged the way and onward pressed.
They climbed the steep and upward trails, that no man before had gone.
Many died on that rough way, But they still kept faith in God.
They forged their way over chasms and cliffs to find a land more free.
Their labors were the labors of love, They did it for you and me.
The mountains are our guardians, surrounding a land that's free.They protect us like God's mighty arm, And they are beautiful to see.
I look to the mountains tall and strong, at the tall, dark pines, sentinels guarding there.
I'm thankful for my mountain home, to always dwell here is my prayer.
HEAVENLY FATHER'S GIFT
The skies are blue above us,
Leaves on the trees are green.
The flowers give off sweet perfume, swaying in the breeze.
My heart is gaily singing.
I'm happy in work and play.
I know my Heavenly Father loves me, He shows it in so many ways.
I see His smile in the verdant hills, in the rainbow arch in the sky.
His mighty arm protects me firm,
When darkness falls and it is night.
God's love is everywhere, in river, sky and trees. I'm thankful for His loving care, and all He does for me.
GOLDEN AFTERNOON
I took a walk on a golden afternoon.
One lazy warm Summer's day.
The flowers were so beautiful, the birdlings songs so gay.
The grass so verdant and so sweet. The rippling brook bubbled by.
I stopped a while to cool my feet and gaze into the sky.
The afternoon ended too soon.
Before I knew it, it was gone.
But before I go, i think I'll sit,
And watch the setting sun.
NEW YEAR'S
The old year is dying fast,
It will soon be in the past.
The new year is on its way,
To bring a brighter day.
Forget the old, bring on the new.
Think of all the things to do.
The old year is dying, let it go,
Like sunshine melting away the snow
There is no way to hold the past or make the old year last and last.
We must forget yesterday, think of today, and do things in a better way.
