"Summer"

Come for a frolic with me, my friend,

Past the hedge that never ends,

Beyond the sun that never sets,

To places snow never wets,

Where the roses always bloom,

And the butterflies ever zoom,

A world quite beyond our dreams,

Alive with the magic of sun and moon beams,

Nothing sinister, nothing foul,

No mouseling stolen by the owl,

Only the music of the wind in the grass,

And the dancing laughter of lover and lass,

Only the thunder of the rustling leaves,

And the pretty nests the sparrow weaves.

There we'll be merry and our hearts will soar,

At once content, yet longing for more.

We'll linger there as long as we can,

In our beautiful summer fairyland.

"Girlhood"

 I used to pretend I was a little girl still,

And found it was easier so.

I still longed for all the fancies and thrills,

My girlish imagination could know.

The world appeared frightening, drab, and vast.

So exacting, harsh, and hard.

I could not bear to grow up fast,

And watch all my dreams become marred.

Yet still did the sorrows come,

Which lay girlhood aside,

Yet I found dreams could still flourish

And a sense of wonder survive.

I no longer pretend I'm a little girl,

And I find I am happier so,

And as I watch my life unfurl,

Even bittersweet, its a joy to know.

"Make Your Own Spring"

 Into the garden,

I tenderly stepped,

To see beauties

For which hearts have leapt.

But what I saw,

Made my heart cry,

For winter had made

The blossoms all die.

With a tremble I thought,

To turn quickly away,

From the blighted hope

Of the withered day,

Yet pausing a moment,

As a ray fell upon,

A small little rose,

With color quite gone.

Laying in dust,

No longer brilliant or gay,

Yet still it whispered,

And I heard it say,

"Beauty's not gone,

Though Spring has faded,

Nor need your joy,

Be longer belated.

There's joy in memory,

Though a gentler kind.

No matter the season,

It can be Spring in your mind."

"The Baptism of Pain"

My soul, blithe, untested,

Came to the river Despair,

I had no thought my merry path,

Would ever lead me there,

I looked unto my Savior's face,

And saw His gentle nod,

And wordless knew there was

no mistake in the little path I trod.

The depths were dark and murky,

I knew I could not stand,

But trusting I'd not be swept away

While I held my Savior's hand.

Quietly I stepped,

Into my baptism of pain.

Into waters where many

much stronger then I were slain.

Unspeakably cold,

No ray of visible light.

And yet remarkably I found,

I did not die of fright.

The pain was not less sharp,

I felt each unyielding wave,

Yet found that my Savior's arm,

Was truly "not short to save".

His grasp, so firm and tender,

Never new I better His love.

Nor even while drinking my gall,

Tasted such wondrous joys from above.

How truly He was with me,

Oh would take a lifetime to explain.

How love, hope, and mercy,

Can triumph in the midst of pain.

"After the Storm"