Wednesday, July 13, 2011

past the night

Her resting place is by the sea
Under the sun-warmed sand.
Where the grass grows green
And the waves break hard.
This was her land, her life, her heart.

She fell in love in sixty-nine.
Her suitor begged of her, "Will you be mine?"
With her gentle smile she humbly obliged
To become his life, his beautiful bride.


Life was hard as a preacher's wife
With a baby girl, the money was tight.
Health failed, life was filled with strife
But she never lost sight of her saving Light.


Life moved quickly for her then
The years went by with a noisy din.
A rowdy boy was added to her brood
And later in life, a little girl, too.


She cheered those she saw with a knowing smile
She was selfless to all, it was worth the while
So many lives were changed because of her love
So many hearts pointed to the true One above.


She left this earth with a quiet breath
Her hand in mine, she met her death
But death is swallowed up by life
I'll see her again, someday past the night. 


Her resting place is by the sea
Under the sun-warmed sand.
Where the grass grows green
And the waves break hard.
This was her land, her life, her heart.

I'm no good at poetry.
xo,
Katy




3 comments:

  1. That was a beautiful poem! Truly from your heart, your mother would have loved it. :)

    I am praying for you. :) xxxx~Kelsey

    ReplyDelete
  2. That was beautiful! Well done! :)
    Much Love xxxx

    ReplyDelete
  3. Dear, don't try to compromise a heart-felt and honest poem like that by saying you're no good at poetry at the end. The subject is heartbreaking, but the words are beautiful. Don't be ashamed of that.

    ReplyDelete

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