In the realm of dusk and dawn, where dreams are both lost and born,
Lies a whisper, faint and taught, "Do the best you can with what you got."
With hands both weary and worn, from battles fierce and forlorn,
We carve our fates, knot by knot, doing the best with what we got.
In the silence of the night, under stars that shine so bright,
We plot our course, seek our lot, with the tools and skills we've got.
Through storms that rage and rot, through calm seas and thoughts fraught,
Our spirit wavers not, for we strive with all we've got.
So let this be our guiding thought, through lessons hard and dearly bought,
To weave our tales, no matter what, doing the best with what we've got.
For in the end, it's all for naught, if not to live the life we sought,
To love, to learn, without a blot, ever doing the best with what we've got.
March 21, 2024
Created by
Mark Waldrop
In her gaze, a spark, a vibrant start,
A blaze within, from worlds apart.
She has fire in her soul,
A force untamed, a story untold.
With every step, she dances, light,
In shadows deep, she finds her might.
And grace in her heart, a gentle art,
A symphony of whispers, set apart.
Her laughter, a melody, wild and free,
A beacon for the weary, a lock without a key.
In her warmth, a comfort found,
In her silence, an echo, profound.
She walks the line between day and night,
A balance of strength, a beacon of light.
With fire in her soul, and grace in her heart,
She crafts her destiny, a living art.
A spirit fierce, with love untamed,
In every word, her essence named.
She has fire in her soul, a never-ending flame,
And grace in her heart, forever to remain.
March 21, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the labyrinth of life where shadows play,
Echoes the adage, "Where there's a will, there's a way."
A mantra for the bold, the spirited, the brave,
For those who face the storm, unswayed, unwavering, unafraid.
Through valleys steep and mountains high,
Underneath the boundless, starlit sky,
The will ignites, a beacon bright,
Guiding through the darkest night.
It whispers in the heart of those who dare,
To dream, to strive, to do and to bear,
That obstacles are merely steps to climb,
Opportunities in the fabric of time.
The way becomes clear to those who seek,
With resolve in their soul, with spirits meek,
For within the will lies the power immense,
To overcome, to endure, to leap the fence.
So when the path seems lost, obscured, forlorn,
Remember the strength from which will is born.
It's not just the journey, the destiny, or the fray,
It's believing, "Where there's a will, there's a way."
March 21, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In life's shadowed valleys, where fear often dwells,
Came a whisper of hope, like distant church bells.
The news of a storm, a tempest named cancer,
Led me to seek, in companions, an answer.
To the shelter I went, where dreams seem to pause,
And there I found Rich, with his wise, gentle paws.
At the back of his kennel, resigned to his fate,
Till our eyes met, and it wasn't too late.
Then Ronny, with spirit, a lifeline extended,
Through a lick and a look, our hearts quickly blended.
Two souls long forgotten, in silence they pleaded,
For a love just like mine, so desperately needed.
They entered my life in a moment so grim,
When the light of my hope was exceedingly dim.
They brought laughter and joy, a respite from sorrow,
A promise of sunshine, each new tomorrow.
When tears needed shedding, they offered their fur,
A comfort, a tissue, their presence a cure.
In moments of doubt, their loyalty never waned,
Two friends on a journey, through sunshine and rain.
We battled, we fought, through each high and low,
And with each passing day, our bonded love did grow.
I needed them more than I'd ever known,
My protectors, my guides, through the unknown sown.
I emerged from the storm, with them by my side,
My heart full of gratitude, wide-eyed and wide.
For Rich and Ronny, my guardians so true,
I owe you my life, for the love that I drew.
In laughter and tears, in silence and roars,
You've given me everything, and so much more.
My companions, my heroes, in fur-cloaked disguise,
I love you, my everything, my noblest prize.
March 21, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the garden of our efforts, where our toilsome seeds are sown,
Lies the truth, profound and ageless, in the gentle winds, it's blown:
"The more we do for ourselves, in our striving, in our quest,
The more God can, in His wisdom, guide us, nurture, and invest.
For each step we take in earnest, on this earthly, winding road,
Lays a path for grace to follow, lightens every heavy load.
In the sweat of our endeavor, in the work of our own hands,
Lies the key to greater wonders, far beyond what we had planned.
It's not in idle waiting or in silent, passive dreams,
But in active, fervent doing, where divine intervention gleams.
Like a river meets the ocean, like the seed that meets the soil,
Our actions meet with heaven’s grace, in a sacred, timeless coil.
So let us toil with joy and vigor, in the sunlight, in the rain,
For our efforts carve the channels, through which blessings flow, unfeigned.
God’s work begins where ours ends, in a beautiful, divine dance,
Where every effort we put forth gives His miracles a chance.
In the fabric of creation, every thread we weave with care
Joins the tapestry eternal, vibrant, wondrous, and rare.
So, lift your heart and set your hands to the plow of your own fate,
For the more we do for ourselves, the more God’s blessings await."
March 21, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
Isn't it funny how fast time slips away
Tomorrow never comes no matter what I say
I can look back on yesterday I can see things today
The future hides behind a veil of mystery I must say
To change the past I have to change today
To change the future I must prepare and pray
March 20, 2024
MarkWaldrop
The perfect place for you may be different than for me
We're both looking for tranquil places for our souls to see
A place of quiet and rest
A place to build our nest
A getaway from the hustle and bustle of life
A place of serene calmness with no strif
Learning to calm my soul brings peace to my mind
Making the perfect place much easier to find
March 20, 2024
MarkWaldrop
I do what I have to do to continue Marching on
One foot in front of the other, moving right along
Sometimes, being easy when things are going my way
Other times, most difficult with no light, I begin to sway
There is a common denominator that smoothes my path
Keeping my eyes on God’s Son Jesus brings less wrath
March 20, 2024
MarkWaldrop
In Cumberland's embrace, I journeyed forth today,
Through mountains wrapped in winter's quiet display.
Not cold as youth recalls, but chill seeps deep within,
At seventy-one, the frost feels like kin.
These mountains stand, in winter's grasp, serene,
Stark sentinels of beauty, bare and keen.
Awaiting spring's warm blaze, they proudly rise,
Toward the thin light that adorns the wintry skies.
We dread yet long for winter's fierce caress,
Snow, sleet, and biting cold, in harsh excess.
For summer's heat, we yearn, then seek retreat,
In cool, air-conditioned spaces, a respite sweet.
In days of old, the elements, a simpler foe,
With layers worn, through seasons, high and low.
My grandmother, in her feed sack garb, would stand,
Unfazed by cold or heat, in this land.
Winter recalls a time of need and grit,
Searching for coal, in cold, we'd never quit.
Dressed in borrowed warmth, memories unfurl,
Of hardship's face, in a bygone world.
Food grew scarce as winter waned, longing for spring's hand,
Pinto beans aplenty, yet the land seemed bland.
Cornbread and molasses, chicory coffee's brew,
Simple meals, a testament to the resilience we knew.
Reflecting on poverty's changing face,
In Cumberland's embrace, we found our grace.
Through seasons of want and plenty, our spirits soar,
For in each hardship, love was our core.
March 20, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the hush of mountain air, where time moves slow,
Where funerals once danced to a different song,
A tapestry of life, in shadows cast long,
Echoes of a past, where memories grow.
When I was young, the mountains held a tale,
Of neighbors' hands cleaning, hearts so grand,
Food and warmth shared, a close-knit band,
A vigil through the night, a community's veil.
Around a barrel fire, men would stand and share,
Moonshine whispers, and tales of days gone by,
While inside, women's laughter would fly,
On wings of recipes, gossip, and care.
This gathering of souls, in honor of the dead,
A time of communion, of love spread wide,
From births to weddings, life's every stride,
A collective breath, where communal ties are fed.
But there was a time, in fifty-one or two,
A funeral like none other, a silence profound,
A young man lost, a mystery bound,
In the heart of the mountains, where secrets brew.
No recipes shared, no laughter in the air,
Just a quiet mourning, a family alone,
A wife bruised, a baby's soft moan,
A community's effort to show they care.
In the years that passed, the truth unfurled,
A tale of violence, a life taken too soon,
In the depths of the mountains, under the same moon,
A story of justice, in a close-knit world.
Yet, the spirit of the mountains, strong and kind,
Remains unbroken, a testament to those days,
When community was family, in all its ways,
A reminder of the ties that bind.
So here's to the mountains, and the tales they tell,
Of life and death, of love's enduring spell,
In the heart of the hills, where secrets dwell,
A legacy of community, forever to dwell.
March 19, 2023
Created by
Mark Waldrop
