I don't know what you are doing. I understand what you have done. You have forgiven me of my sins through the sacrifice of your Son There is no way to thank you for Your Gift and the blessings that continue to flow I can only tell of Your Love wherever I go February 18, 2024 MarkWaldrop
Is my memory failing as I age Is my mind trapped in a cage It has been brought to my attention that Memory is dependent on retention I have lost my keys as most of us have My mind wandered when placed there Keeping my mind in the now not hampered by the future or past Will sharpen my memory and recollection that will surely last I have often forgotten a name when being introduced The reason being I was not paying attention to the truth My memory fades and many mistakes are made When I find myself in a rush my thoughts are delayed To sharpen my memory I need to Pay close attention Slowing down and clearing the mind will bring less tension February 18, 2023 MarkWaldrop
In sacred flames, unbound by earthly laws, Where God's own fire illuminates the cause, A testament of faith, so pure, so grand, In holy fire, on sacred, hallowed land. Upon the ground where Moses stood in awe, A bush alight, yet unscathed, without flaw. A symbol, deep, of God's enduring grace, Where flames enlighten, yet they leave no trace. And Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, too, In furnace fierce, a fiery trial they knew. Yet not alone, amidst the blaze they stood, For with them was the Son of God, so good. Their faith, a shield, against the consuming fire, In God’s own presence, lifted ever higher. On holy ground, their trust was their attire, Unburnt, untouched, by earthly flame or pyre. This divine fire, it does not destroy, But strengthens faith, in every girl and boy. A beacon, bright, through history's vast expanse, Inviting all, to take that faithful stance. So let us walk, in steps of those before, On holy ground, where sacred fires soar. With God as guide, through trials, we’ll endure, In His embrace, our faith remains secure. February 18, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
What is my reason for arising at the break of dawn Will I be mad at the world or Happy singing a song I have the power to determine my mood To choose happiness or continue the fude Happiness is Blessed with a Peaceful state of mind Due to the calmness of my soul residing inside Jesus brings Peace and Happiness within The solution to the state I seek is inviting Jesus in February 17, 2024 MarkWaldrop
Grandma whispered wisdom, soft and true, Underneath a sky so vast and blue. "Brush your teeth every day," she'd say, A simple act to keep the shadows at bay. "And hitch your wagon to a star, Let it guide you, near and far. For dreams are lights in the night's embrace, Leading us to our rightful place." In her eyes, a twinkling spark, A guiding light in the dark. Her words, a beacon ever bright, Guiding me through the toughest night. So I brush my teeth, and then I dream, Beneath the star's gentle gleam. Grandma's advice, a cherished gift, My heart and soul, it does uplift. For in her wisdom, I find my way, Through every night and every day. Her love, a star I hitched my ride, With grandma's wisdom as my guide. February 16, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop Advice give to me by Grandma Waldrop upon departing for College
Grandma Mabel Waldrop
“Grandma Maplenut”
In the jungles deep and wide, Where mysteries and dangers hide, A tiny soul was found inside A foxhole, where she did abide. Smoky, of the Yorkshire breed, Tiny, but mighty in deed. In World War II, a friend in need, A soldier's companion, lead by creed. For $6.44, a bond was sold, Between a Corporal brave and bold, And Smoky, whose story would unfold, In battles fierce and nights so cold. She lived a life of soldier's fare, Shared meals, and slept in Wynne's care. No official badge did she wear, Yet her courage was beyond compare. Twelve missions high, in backpack stowed, Above the clouds, her spirit glowed. 150 air raids, the danger sowed, Yet by her side, safety flowed. She warned of shells, a guardian light, In darkest hours, a beacon bright. Her heart, her spirit, fierce in fight, Guiding through the perilous night. A performer too, with tricks to show, Entertaining troops, a morale bow. In hospitals, her presence would glow, Healing hearts, with her spirited flow. Back to the U.S., hidden away, In an oxygen mask, she made her stay. Her legacy, in hearts, would sway, Entertaining, healing, every day. For ten more years, she gave her love, To veterans, with a grace from above. Her life, a testament, to the power of The smallest being, with the heart of a dove. Smoky, the first Therapy Dog, named, In history, her legacy framed. A tiny warrior, fiercely acclaimed, Her spirit, forever untamed. So remember the dog who braved the fight, With soldiers, through the darkest night. Her courage, love, and shining light, A beacon of hope, forever bright. February 16, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
Dreams that fit within your grasp, Are too small, the poets gasp. For dreams should stretch, should leap, should soar, Beyond the now, to something more. If dreams aren't mountains tall and steep, That challenge heart and soul to leap, Then have you really dreamed at all? Or just stayed safe, within your wall? Dream big, they say, and then dream bigger, Let not your aspirations wither. For dreams that tower over you, Are the ones that pull you through. They’re beacons on life's vast, dark sea, Guiding where you're meant to be. So set your sights on stars above, Dream big, dream bold, with all your love. For in the chase, the pursuit, the race, You'll find your purpose, your true place. And even if you fall, you'll see, You've soared beyond what you thought to be. So dream a dream that's vast, immense, Let it leap over every fence. For only those who dare to dream, Find the streams that truly gleam. Big dreams, they say, are the key, To unlock potential, to set you free. So dream a dream that's more than enough, For in its pursuit, you'll find your stuff. February 16, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
In a room of twelve square meters small, Lives a soul who’s seen it all. Eighty-two with stories tall, Children, grands, great ones call. No longer does the garden grow, Nor cakes on countertops show. Yet in her room, the world seems slow, Memories around her flow. Four children once beneath her wing, Now eleven sprouts in spring. Two great blooms, life’s offering, In a small room, she’s still a king. No lavish home or treasures vast, But care and warmth that always last. Blood pressure checked, the meals are cast, In gentle hands, her days are passed. The laughter of the young, once near, Now memories that she holds dear. Some visit close, some far, some never here, In silence, she sheds a tear. Hobbies remain, in books she dives, But soon her eyes, they strive. Loneliness, like a shadow, arrives, Yet in her heart, hope survives. She leads, she reads, to others, she’s a guide, Even when her own company subsides. A friend, a neighbor, by her side, Together sang, before she died. Why do they say life grows long? When solitude feels so strong. Yet, in her heart, where memories belong, She finds the strength to carry on. Photos, memories, her treasure chest, Reminding her of what she loves best. A plea to the future, to never rest, In remembering love’s eternal quest. “Don’t forget,” she softly sighs, “Family’s bond, the strongest ties. Through every hello and goodbye, Love’s echo never dies.” So, from a room, small and bright, A voice whispers into the night. In love and memories, take flight, And hold your loved ones tight. February 16, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
In a quaint and lively neighborhood, under skies so wide and blue, Janet shared a tale one morning, of a goose, and wisdom too. "Well," she said with gentle caution, "if geese nearby you host, Do not keep a lone one with you, for it's companions it will most." George, who was Georgette, in truth, found a journey of her own, To a flock that welcomed her, in fields where lush green grass had grown. Half a mile was not too distant, for a heart that sought to roam, Early in the dawn, she set off, to find herself a new home. With a pink underline in the photo, amidst her kind, she stood, A testament to nature's call, and the neighborhood's common good. Janet smiled, content and happy, for the story that unfolded, Was one of understanding, and of bonds that were remolded. "We have good neighbors," Janet mused, a statement broad and true, Reflecting on the ties that bind, and the kind acts that we do. For in the tale of Georgette's move, a lesson lies in sight, Of community, care, and love, and doing what is right. So here's to Janet, and to George, now Georgette, with her new friends, In a world where kindness matters, and on each other, we depend. Let this poem be a reminder, of the beauty in our lives, In our actions and our stories, where the spirit of love thrives. February 16, 2024 Created by MarkWaldrop
If you don't remove the burr from under the saddle The horse will continue to buck and be rattled Be alert danger lies not far ahead Being thrown you could end up dead The moral of this story remove the burr at first glance So both You and the horse have a second chance February 15, 2024 MarkWaldrop