The Journal

I came upon a book one day,
It's tattered pages worn,
The binding made of leather fine,
Though in places torn.
I gently picked it up and looked,
To see what it contained,
I could not wait to see inside,
Excitement unrestrained.
I read of war and peace and work,
I read of troubled times,
I read of summer days so fair,
And harsh wintertime.
And as I read I realized,
This book I held right here,
Was not a story made from scratch,
But tales from yester-year.
Someone from a time before,
From a different age,
Had written cares, and love, and fear,
Upon each faded page.
As I turned each leaflet thin,
I thirsted more and more,
For knowledge of this simple life,
A flow'r fell to the floor.
I knelt and picked,
the flower, flat from years untold,
I gazed at how it's simple petals,
from the stem unfold.
I placed it back inside the book,
And pressed it to my heart,
Now when I think of those gone by,
We aren't so far apart.

The Eyes of Angels

The cloak of night sweeps o'er the land,
Shining stars follow, hand in hand,
In the sky the moon shines bright,
Lighting up this autumn night,
In silver bathed, the silent dells,
Echo silence, the hills as well.
Soon the sun will shine, and then,
The autumn trees will burn again,
In brilliant hues of red and gold,
And birds will sing their songs so bold,
The world reborn in sound and light,
To see God's work in all it's might,
For now the world is at it's rest,
Each bird huddled in it's nest,
And high up in the moonlit skies,
The stars watch as the angel's eyes.

Dear Readers:

I hope you have been enjoying the recent poems I have added. The school year has started, so I will try to be more regular about my postings. I also wanted to let you know that my brother has created a blog. Maybe you will want to check it out! Especially if you like star wars and bugs... www.phantomsfile.blogspot.com

In Christ,
Molly

The Passing Storm

White foam topped the restless waves,
Left from the recent storm,
The sky above was cloudy grey,
The wind that blew was warm,
It drove away the cloudy skies,
And skipped above the sea,
And as I sat upon the sand,
The wind swept over me.
As I gazed upon this scene,
A thought grew in my mind,
That though hard times will come to us,
Hope waits for mankind.
It reaches out with hands outstretched,
With palms so scarred and worn,
And safe within the hold of Christ,
We all can be reborn.

The Miracles of Life

Through the morn and evening hours,
And long, bright afternoons,
To midnight on it's starry tower,
Bathed in bright rays of the moon.
There are things we overlook,
In our lives of everyday,
Beautiful as roses in,
A vibrant red bouquet.
The snow untrodden underfoot,
The fragrance of a flower,
The laughter in a baby's eyes,
A sudden summer shower.
A lake that mirrors the mountains tall,
A forest of rustling leaves,
A flash of red on evergreens,
A winding summer breeze.
A sunset on an ocean blue,
A hug from one you know,
A letter come from far away,
A river's rippling flow,
The first red leaf from Autumn trees,
The first birdsong of spring,
An icicle sparkling in wainter's light,
And a swaying tire swing.
These are but to name a few,
So lay aside your strife,
And find God in the everyday,
In miracles of life.

Seaside Dawn

The sun lays red upon the sea,
The veil of night is torn,
The seagulls raise their shrieking cry,
As day is now reborn.
The waves are crashing o'er the sand,
The clouds are bathed in light,
And glow in tones of gold and pink,
All is calm and right.
The air is clean and smells of salt,
A light breeze gently sings,
Of foaming waves and wheeling birds,
And glory to the King.

The Adventures of malchance, Part 10

Malchance and his companions arrived at Princess Maceta's castle just as dusk was settling over the countryside. The porter, being the husband of Maceta's old governess, at once recognized her and joyously escorted them in to see the king.
"Oh, my darling! My precious blossom!" Cried King Orango when he saw his only daughter. "You've come back! But where are your guards? I don't see them anywhere!" (He was very fond of exclamations.)
"Oh, them," said Maceta, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "They ran off. It was Sir malchacne over there that saved me," she replied waving her hand in Malchance's direction. The king quickly turned his attention to Malchance, veiwing him as the hero who had saved his beloved daughter.
"Sir! Ask me anything! Anything! And I will do my best to procure it for you!" Malchance considered this.
"Your Royal Exclamitoriness, there's only one thing I would like, and that is your beautiful daughter's hand in marriage." Having said this, he ducked his head, embarassed, but Maceta was beaming, as this was exactly what she had wanted. The king looked serious for a moment and said,
"You may marry my daughter if you first answer one question for me. Do you agree?" Malchance nodded.
"Very well then," said the king, "Which is the greater, courage or love?" Malchance thought for a moment, then said:
"In my reckoning, Your Highness, you can't love without the courage to show it, and courage without love is just selfishness. You can't have one without the other, and neither one is more important than the other." The king smiled broadly.
"Exactly! You, good sir, are the perfect knight for my daughter!"
Several months later the wedding took place, and every one lived happily ever after.

THE END