Sunday, February 21, 2010

Small Brown Book

I came across your Bible,
The one you used to hold.
The shape of your back pocket,
Tattered worn and old.
Pages taped and inked on.
Cherished words of life.
I remember , it was part of you,
and part of me, your wife.

We used to share the words within.
What God would have us know.
Some we never understood,
still learning how to grow.
To everything a reason,
God's ways are not our own.
We surely had Love’s Season,
before you journeyed Home.

I came across your Bible,
The piece He left behind.
For me to know the value,
of all we seek to find.
A Guide Book for the weary.
Living Legacy of Love.
Penned by Holy Martyrs.
Tears of Grace and blood.

and, as I turned the pages,
so frail and worn, and thin.
Reading over all the verses,
highlighted within.
I thought of you and Streets of Gold.
Smiling down at me.
Take Heart, Rejoice,
Go be a Voice,
and All that you can be.



1 comment:

  1. You ought to check into some of the poetry contests. This is beautiful and I don't normally like rhyming poetry.