Oh Loving Mother where have you gone today I pray you won't be gone long please don't stay My tears cry for your loving touch I miss your warm smile so much I know you can't return to me I can only prepare to see thee February 2, 2024 MarkWaldrop
One day a long time ago in Bible Lands A cattle train headed out to their Homeland Jacob, with his wives and children, mounted their Camels high Heading out under the hot desert sky Following God’s Devine plan, trekking many miles in the hot sand Camels, cattle, goats, and sheep always looking for water and sleep An impossible journey in every way Only with God’s Hand as they pray Reaching their destination and looking in the past Thanking God for his protection that will forever last February 2, 2024 MarkWaldrop Genesis 31:17-18
Life on the farm is relaxing, I must say Sending the cares of the city away The smell of freshly new-mown hay A hot cup of coffee to start the day The midnight hours of birthing a calf It brings happiness and far less strife Life on the farm melts my many concerns away Close to God’s creation is where I want to stay January 29, 2024 MarkWaldrop Penned for my friend Dean Ewing
In the heart of Ohio, 'neath the wide Buckeye sky, Was born Annie Oakley, in eighteen-sixty, nigh. In a log cabin dwelling, near North Star's gentle light, Phoebe Ann Moses, a star in the night. Her childhood was marked by scarcity and loss, Her father, a farmer, died from frost's cruel cross. In a terrible storm, he met his untimely fate, Leaving young Phoebe to wrestle with a heavy weight. A sister too, in time, would pass away, Adding to the hardships of Annie's early day. But from these trials, a sharpshooter arose, With a rifle in hand, she faced life's imposing foes. At the tender age of eight, or so the tale is told, Annie learned to hunt, brave and bold. She'd shoot with a grace, so natural and free, Supporting her kin with game from field and tree. Quail, rabbit, squirrel, her aim always true, In Cincinnati, at fifteen, her renown only grew. A shooting match won, against sharpshooter Butler, Her future husband, none could out-flutter. Annie's skill was such, surplus meat she'd provide, To markets and hotels, her fame did glide. Her mother, resourceful, sold the game with pride, Ensuring their survival, with Annie by their side. Then came the year, eighteen eighty-five, Buffalo Bill's show, where legends come alive. Annie Oakley, the star, in a spectacle so grand, Joined the Rough Riders, a rifle in hand. Sitting Bull, the great chief, with respect so rare, Named her Watanya Cicilla, in the open air. "Little Sure Shot," a title of honor and might, In Buffalo Bill's Wild West, she was a brilliant sight. Outshooting Cody, winning hearts far and wide, Annie's fame soared, on a celestial tide. Admired by all, from McCoys to Hatfields, In an era of feuds, her legend never yields. But time marches on, as all stories tell, In nineteen twenty-six, Little Sure Shot fell. November's chill wind whispered a mournful sigh, For Annie Oakley, under the Buckeye sky. Her legacy lives on, in tales and in song, A woman of courage, undaunted and strong. In the heart of Ohio, 'neath the wide Buckeye sky, Lives the spirit of Oakley, forever to fly. January 29, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
We are all allotted a certain amount of time Knowing the exact number would be a crime Being young, my hourglass has what God will allow Grandpa's hourglass is close to being empty now God has a plan for each of our lives Living in His Will brings less strife Thank you, God, for Your Plan that I might see And giving me Grandpa, who always loves me January 27, 2024 MarkWaldrop
The burdens of life brought me to my knees Nowhere to turn but God, looking for peace As I share with Him all my cares My load is lifted through my tears His Grace and Mercy are more than I can understand I thank you, God, for your Everlasting Devin Plan January 27, 2024 MarkWaldrop
By whom am I being led, and where am I going I am traveling along willingly without knowing I must pay more attention to my path today Will I be happy and fulfilled at the end of the day Always being alert to my coach and the race I'm in. Will determine the prize that lies ahead in the end January 27, 2024 MarkWaldrop
In tempests wild, when life's storms surge, Rest in the arms of the wind's great urge. The Master speaks amidst the gale, His voice a harbor, strong and hale. "Peace be still," He whispers soft, In His embrace, aloft we're loft. Through raging winds and pouring rain, His presence soothes, eases the pain. Hold fast to promises, forever true, He'll never leave, always with you. In darkest nights, in fiercest squall, He stands steadfast, through it all. His promise rings, a beacon bright, In stormy seas, He is our light. Never forsaken, never alone, In His love, our fears are overthrown. January 27, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
I faintly remember the distant past. Smells of the dusty road, the creek, and newly mown grass. Smells didn't matter much when I was a kid Too engaged with other things, Heaven forbid We were poor as church mice. We had no shoes. We were happy as could be just singing the blues. In the one-room school, we sang in harmony. Miss Marie, the School Marm taught us our A B C’s After school, boys swam in the creek. I learned many lessons most I can't repeat. The good old days were better then. It seems I have trouble remembering them. January 25, 2024 MarkWaldrop
There seems to be no respect today Respect was in order yesterday Where did it go, and why did it leave Young people are not taught I believe Respect for our Almighty God is where it has to start Creating respect for family and friends from the heart The only answer is spreading The Good News of Jesus Only with God's Touch will Respect be returned to us. January 24, 2024 MarkWaldrop