Good morning, echoes through the dawn's first light, A tale of valor, sorrow, and might. In nineteen-oh-seven, a boy was born, To a widow whose heart was torn.
His father, taken by a brother’s hand, Left a young widow in a desolate land. He grew up fast, a child no more, Dropped out in fifth grade to work, to toil, and bore.
Four brothers looked up to his guiding hand, In the logging woods, he made his stand. Married young, and children came, Seven in total, three angels to name.
In forty-four, when the world was ablaze, A month-old baby, he’d have to leave in a haze. From Harlan County to Normandy’s shore, This Kentucky boy faced the horrors of war.
Men fell like rain on that blood-soaked beach, One young soldier’s sanity just out of reach. “No need for a gun,” he cried out loud, As chaos raged and death's shadow shrouded.
Liberation brought tears to his weary eyes, Death camps unveiled humanity’s demise. In a foxhole, with a testament lost, He crawled through the night, in the cold and frost.
Hands bleeding, searching for hope, Found a Bible, bloodied, a way to cope. Twice wounded, he persevered, Shook Patton’s hand, a memory revered.
Post-war missions with Lt. Schaefer’s call, Hunting war criminals, he gave his all. Came home broken, inside and out, Shell shock, treatments, a mind full of doubt.
Twenty-five years, he battled unseen foes, A hero in shadows, the pain only grows. No bridges or highways bear his name, But his sacrifice remains, forever aflame.
A military family, devoted and true, To God and country, their hearts they imbue. When flags are trampled, in anger and pain, Remembering the fallen, tears fall like rain.
As taps play softly, a tribute to the brave, For your dad, your husband, the memories you save. In their honor, with pride, you stand tall, Heroes remembered, one and all.
Created by MarkWaldrop
Taken from a story on Facebook “Journey of a Mountain Woman”
Rejoice, rejoice, oh hearts alight, The morning sun scatters the night. Glad day, glad day, echoes the tune, Jesus is coming, glorious and soon.
Sing through the streets, dance in the lanes, Over the hills, across the plains. Voices uplift in joyous croon, Proclaim the news: He cometh at noon.
Lift up your heads, ye gates of gold, Prepare the way, the story retold. Hope blooms afresh like flowers in June, Glad day, glad day, He’s coming soon.
Each moment passed, each heartbeat’s sway, Draws nearer still that promised day. In humble praise, we kneel and pray, Glad day, glad day, oh blessed day.
The trumpets sound beyond the blue, Angels descend in hues anew. With grace, they trace, from night to noon, Our Savior’s path; He’s coming soon.
So hold your lamps, trimmed and bright, For in His light, all things are right. Glad day, glad day, sings the moon, Jesus is coming, oh so very soon.
In every task, let your efforts be true, Strive for excellence in all that you do. May each deed shine like a beacon so bright, Reflecting God’s glory, His power and might.
In the simple and small, the vast and complex, Perform every action with purpose that’s direct. For in giving our best, we honor His name, And in His sacred reverence, we ignite a flame.
Let passion be pure and intentions be kind, Through diligent hands, His grace we shall find. With hearts lifted high and spirits so bold, May our deeds tell His story, as the ages unfold.
Thus, walk in His ways, and cherish the call, Whatever you do, let it glorify God above all. With each step and each breath, and praises we sing, To bring honor to God, our Creator and King.
n the shadowed lands of ancient Egypt's night,
A time of dread unfurled in eerie light.
A Hebrew boy, in his father's care,
Faced a fearful test of despair.
The angel of death, its shadow wide and low,
Made it hard for sleep's embrace to know.
Yet, in his mind, a lamb did leap,
Its sacrifice, a memory he'd keep.
"Why must the lamb, so gentle and fair,
Leave its life, its blood on our door to bear?"
Through storm and wind, it promised to stay,
But in his heart, he feared it might stray.
To his father, he cried with trembling fear,
"Please, check the blood, make sure it's still near."
His father replied, with comforting tone,
"The blood will protect us, it's power shown.
It won't wash away, nor fade in the storm,
For it's applied with love, its presence warm.
Rest now, my son, in peace and care,
For the blood on the door will always be there."
And so it was, through history's fold,
This story of deliverance, bravely told.
When I see the blood, I'll pass over you,
A promise of salvation, forever true.
In the lamb's sacrifice, a symbol clear,
Of future hope and love so dear.
The blood that stands the raging storm,
A testament of love, forevermore.
So when the night seems dark and fear near,
Remember the blood, and hold it dear.
For it speaks of safety, love, and care,
A reminder that, in our darkest despair,
There's a promise of deliverance, bright and fair,
For the blood is still there, always to declare:
"I will pass over you, when the blood I see,
A symbol of hope, for eternity."
March 17, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldro
Confidence, a lantern in the night,
Illuminates the path, makes the unsure right.
It’s the wind beneath the wings in flight,
A quiet whisper saying, "You might."
It dresses wounds of doubt with care,
Builds bridges over streams of despair.
In the mirror, a steadfast stare,
A promise that strength is there to bear.
With confidence, the world's a stage,
Every step forward, a written page.
No fear of judgment, no cage,
Only freedom to engage.
It's the artist's brush, bold and free,
Painting dreams for the world to see.
A dancer’s leap, a melody,
Expressions of what one can be.
Confidence, the key to unlocked doors,
A sailor's faith in distant shores.
It’s the courage to explore,
And in exploring, to soar.
So wear it like a crown, let it shine,
For with confidence, every challenge is benign.
It's not just a feeling, but a sign,
That within you, there's a power divine.
March 16, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the quiet dawn of '70, beneath the boundless sky,
Where birds once soared in numbers, beneath the sun so high.
A silence has descended, where songs once filled the air,
Thirty percent have vanished, leaving emptiness to bear.
Habitats once lush and wild, forests deep and grand,
Have dwindled under human touch, across this sprawling land.
Meadows, marshes, woods, and streams, homes to winged delight,
Now bare, transformed, or lost, a sorrowful, fading sight.
More people, fewer birds, a truth we cannot hide,
Our footprint grows, the earth it groans, in this selfish stride.
Nests abandoned, echoes fade, in skies once vibrant and alive,
A testament to what's at stake, for those who still survive.
Yet, in this tale of loss and woe, a glimmer yet remains,
A chance to change, to heal, to grow, to break these binding chains.
To restore the balance, plant the seed, of a future bright and fair,
Where birdsong fills the morning light, a chorus in the air.
Let us heed the call of nature, with gentle, caring hands,
Rebuild the homes, preserve the wild, across these precious lands.
For in the harmony of life, where diversity is key,
Lies the beauty of our world, in its soaring melody.
March 5, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the tapestry of life, so grand and vast,
God wove each soul, a spell to cast.
With freedom of choice in every heart,
A journey of faith, from the start.
Some choose the path where God's light shines,
A road of love, divine designs.
Others may wander, lost in the night,
Swayed by shadows, out of sight.
Yet, let us be carriers of the Good,
Reaching out, as we should.
To those caught in evil's snare,
Offering hope, showing we care.
For in the grand design, it's clear to see,
Good triumphs over evil, ultimately.
A battle fought with love and grace,
Leading every lost soul to a sacred place.
So, let our actions reflect the light,
Guiding all towards what is right.
For in the end, it's love that wins,
A force that forgives, and cleanses sins.
Together, let's stand, strong and true,
With every deed, let goodness flow through.
For in the tapestry that God has spun,
Good shall prevail, when all is said and done.
March 3, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
Golden Gate Park a timeless place
To bask in God’s Peace and Grace
A tranquil stroll with dogs in hand
Calms the anxious soul of any man
Children playing and running all around
Recovers memories lost but now found
The smell of the blossoming flowers
Unrest in my mind Peace overpowers
All good things must come to an end.
I am confident this will happen again.
January 29, 2024
MarkWaldrop
In Savannah's streets I wandered slow,
Past a church in decay, where dim lights glow.
Through the window's pane, a hymn did start,
A funeral's lament touched my heart.
Sympathy awakened, wonder took its hold,
In a negro pew, the tale unfolds.
Young couples weeping, sorrow wild,
On the altar lay a coffin, a sorrowful child.
Rows of elders, a preacher's grand stance,
At a wooden desk, in a solemn trance.
"Don't be weepin'," he kindly said,
For the child has run where angels tread.
He's doing fine, appreciates your love,
But the Father above calls from realms above.
Not by miles did He give the boy,
Just lent some sunshine, a fleeting joy.
Let your hearts grow, with love so deep,
Till silver tears in your eyes do weep.
Poor mourners, let Jesus's peace abide,
No need for criticism, in Him, confide.
For comforts given, can be taken away,
Praise the Lord in glory, let us pray.
In the large house above, the child is kept,
Rest in peace, dear ones, as your hearts accept.
December 17, 2023
Created by
MarkWaldrop
Taken from
Steal Away - Lyrics
Red Foley
Can I win the race in this world of sin
That would depend on the race I’m in
Am I in the race for all earthly things
And immediate gratification it brings
All these things shall pass one day
Leaving this earth forever to stay
Racing for Eternal Life, there is only One Way
Believing and accepting God’s Son Jesus today
Then I have won the race for eternity to live
With the Master, because of the Love, He did Give
October 21, 2023
MarkWaldrop
