In sorrow deep, he sat alone, A heart so heavy, a world unknown. Roscoe, young, with eyes so wide, Had lost the love that once stood by.
No food, no light, no will to play, His spirit fading day by day. The hands that tried could not erase The emptiness he could not face.
But fate had plans, unseen, untold, A weary dog, so frail, so old. Lost and wandering, tired and weak, Yet carrying hope they both would seek.
A chance encounter, a bond so true, A love that sparked, a life renewed. No longer lost, no longer lone, Together now, a place called home.
They run, they play, they swim with glee, Two souls once broken, now set free. Roscoe finds joy in his friend so dear, A love that wipes away each tear.
Though life may take, it also gives, In friendship’s warmth, the spirit lives. For hearts can heal, and love will mend, When found within a faithful friend.
On frozen peaks, where cold winds wail, A mother goat began her frail tale. New life arrived, so soft, so small, But frost could claim them, one and all.
From a village near, a shepherdess came, Her heart ablaze, her soul aflame. With tender hands and a strength so rare, She bore the mother through icy air.
Beside her walked a faithful friend, A loyal dog, whose love would not bend. With careful steps, it bore the child, A fragile life through mountains wild.
The photo froze this fleeting grace, A moment born of time and place. Compassion shone through frost and storm, Humanity’s light, so pure, so warm.
For in their care, the world can see, The boundless depths of empathy. A goat, her kid, a dog, and she Together forged a victory.
My mind still talks to you, In whispers soft, in skies so blue. Each memory, a fleeting flame, Calling out your cherished name.
My heart still looks for you, my dear, In every shadow, far and near. The echo of your gentle laugh, A melody that splits my path.
But my soul knows you’re at peace, Your pain and struggles now released. Among the stars, your spirit soars, Through endless skies, through open doors.
Though loss has carved this aching space, I feel your love, your warm embrace. In dreams, in whispers, you remain, A bond unbroken by life’s refrain.
The Old Clock stopped at twelve the day That Grandma quietly slipped away. Her hands once turned its ticking wheel, A daily task, her gentle seal.
If that Old Clock could speak its mind, The tales within we’d surely find. It saw each birth, each tear, each smile, Each fleeting moment, every trial.
It ticked through laughter, love, and pain, Through sunny days and pouring rain. Its face bore witness, year by year, To all the lives that gathered near.
The hands are still, the pendulum rests, Yet in its silence, it still protects— The echoes of a life well-spent, A legacy of love’s intent.
So let it stand, a sentinel true, A keeper of memories, old and new. Though Grandma’s gone, her spirit stays, Within that clock and all her ways.
The rose smiles in silence, soft and serene, A whisper of grace in shades of green. Its petals unfold, a quiet embrace, A masterpiece born of time and space.
Its beauty paints the world anew, A crimson blush, a golden hue. Without a word, it speaks to the heart, A timeless language, a work of art.
No need for voices, no need for sound, Its presence alone is beauty unbound. A silent teacher, its lesson is clear— Grace blooms quietly, for all who draw near.
What is love? A question so vast, A feeling eternal, a bond meant to last. It wears many faces, it comes in many forms, A shelter in chaos, a calm through the storms.
To a child, it’s the warmth of a mother’s embrace, The guiding hand, the familiar face. To friends, it’s laughter that never grows old, A trust that’s unshaken, more precious than gold.
For lovers, it’s passion, a flame burning bright, A whisper in darkness, a beacon of light. It’s the courage to stay through struggle and strife, The promise of forever in the story of life.
It’s the kindness we show to a stranger in need, The grace of compassion, the bloom from a seed. It’s found in forgiveness, in hearts open wide, In giving, in serving, in setting aside.
To me, love’s the greatest feeling to know, The source of all joy, the place where we grow. Simply put, there is nothing greater, Love is the essence of the Creator.
Meekness is not a weakness, no, It’s a strength that only the humble know. In the eyes of God, it shines so bright, A beacon of grace, a guiding light.
Humility lifts where pride may fall, A quiet strength that conquers all. To serve with meekness, to bow the knee, Is the greatest gift to eternity.
For power lies not in boastful claims, But in hearts that honor His holy name. Meekness marks the man refined, By God’s own hand, in heart and mind.
So walk with gentleness, firm yet kind, Let His mastery shape your soul and mind. For the meek inherit a truth so vast: God’s strength perfected in them at last.
Pray for the best, with hope in your heart, A whisper to Heaven, a sacred start. Dreams may soar or paths may stray, But trust in His plan each step of the way.
Expect the least, with humble grace, For life is a journey, not a race. Gratitude blooms where pride recedes, And blessings grow from simple seeds.
Serve the in-between, with love as your guide, For this is where purpose and joy reside. In moments unseen, in acts so small, We find the truth: to serve is all.
So pray, expect, and humbly serve, A life of meaning we all deserve. For in the balance of what may seem, We find God’s love in the in-between.
