Little Bird

You fly, unfettered above the world

Above the care and worry of men:

You skip, you hop, you dance and twirl,

And do it again and again.

What makes you so happy and free?

Will death and sorrow ever strike a note–

A minor note of pity?

Do your eyes grow did, as in the sky you float,

When you see men’s hate and agony?

Do you see the dead and dying?

Do you live in a place that is never sad,

 Never a hint of enmity?

 Do you or your brothers ever get mad?

And do you forgive him immediately?

Is hate ever seen there?

 Take me away form this world, little bird, or stay,

And teach me your happy little secret:

 So that the world might be a better place,

Simply because I have existed.

 I will leave the world better than I found it.

 

Someone is praying for me

When doubts and fears cloud the way:

And I watch, helpless, as dreams slip away;

On nights when I think, “I’ve wasted another day”

I remember—someone is praying for me.

 

Days when I felt lost without pen or paper,

Reached out to a friend, and –for me –she wasn’t there

All alone, and suddenly feeling  God’s presence here

And I know why—someone is praying for me.

Jesus, King of Glory

Jesus, King of Glory

High above the skies,

Sits the King of Glory.

High above the skies,

Sits the Lord of Beauty.

 

Maker of the Universe,

Jesus is my savior.

Halleluiah!

Halleluiah!

 

Lord, how can I repay?

I will give you my life today.

Lord Jesus, I love You.

How can I ever thank You?

Dear Mama Ewe

Dear Mama Ewe

Dear mama ewe, dear mama ewe,

I know you miss your boy;

You played with him, you slept with him—

I knew he was your joy.

Dear mama ewe, you loved him so,

And taught him, step by step.

He grew up quickly by your side-

Grew tall, grand, well-kept.

But then came a day, poor mama ewe,

We took your lamb away.

He was old enough— six months young—

Besides, it was slaughter day.

Dear mama ewe, poor mama ewe,

Your lamb is in our freezer.

And choice chunks of him–perhaps his loins—

Will be left for us to cure.

Dear mama ewe, dear mama ewe,

Thanks for all your hard work.

Thank you for all the loving care.

(He did not turned out to be a tough jerk.)

And now I smell a rich aroma,

Thanks to you, dear mama ewe:

Because that’s stew you hear bubbling—

Delicious, home raised lamb stew.