A yearning grace

In a paper sack, divine worth unfolds,
Three dollars sought, the mystic threshold.
Not to explode the soul, disrupt the sleep,
But warmth of milk, or in sunlight, a peep.

No transformation craved, just ecstasy's kiss,
A pound of Eternal, in humble bliss.
No love for the different, no migrant's toil,
Just God's warmth, in the womb, without turmoil.

Three dollars worth of the sacred embrace,
In a simple request, a yearning grace.

January 2, 2023
Created by
MarkWaldrop

Taken from
“Three Dollars Worth of God”
Wilbur Reesy

The Touch

We need a touch. The touch we get, the touch we give
Without a loving  touch, we cannot live

Babies need a touch of their mother when they are born
A widow needs a touch from those who care when she is forlorn 

The Greatest Touch of all 
Seems so very small

The Devinne touch from God when we so need Him
Will deliver us from ourselves into a Heavenly realm

December 31, 2023
MarkWaldrop

Rejected worth

In pastures green, where ewes give birth,
A tale unfolds of rejected worth.
Bummer lambs, heads bowed so low,
Rejected by mothers, left to woe.

The shepherd, kind, with gentle hand,
Lifts the lamb from the lonely land.
Wraps it warm, holds it tight,
Against the heart, in the silent night.

Hand-feeding love to the broken soul,
Making the wounded spirit whole.
In the shepherd's care, it finds its way,
Back to the flock, where others stray.

Rejected, yet loved, the bummer lamb,
Knows the shepherd's voice, like a sacred psalm.
Jesus, the Shepherd, so good and true,
Cares for us all, me and you.

In moments broken, rejected, and low,
He holds us close, lets His love flow.
No lamb forgotten, no soul left behind,
In His love and care, solace we find.

Bummer lambs, we may be,
But deeply loved for eternity.
By the Shepherd, gentle and kind,
In His embrace, true solace we find.

December 30, 2023
Created by
MarkWaldrop

The Eastern gate

When I take flight my destination, the Eastern gate
My departure time is unknown 
Only to my Master is it known

I've been planning my trip, looking at every detail
I'm so excited to go where love and joy prevail 

Purchasing my ticket from the One who frees us
Through the Ticket Master God’s Son Jesus 

A smooth ride it will be when His Angels come for me

On the final, I will see the light of the Eastern Gate
There, no one can imagine His Glory
That awaits

 I will keep tolling on till my life is complete
 Then, boarding the flight for my God to meet

December 28, 2023
MarkWaldrop

Brush strokes of life

Brush strokes on the canvas of life
Will it bring me happiness or strife

The bright colors of happiness
The dark colors of sadness
The Master's touch produces a painting of Gladness

The dark colors highlight the bright
creating a painting of great delight

The final stroke will be made that day
When my soul takes flight to fly far away 

December 25, 2023
MarkWaldrop

Don’t be weepin

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

MarkWaldrop

Virginia asks “Is there a Santa”

Virginia O’Hanion (circa 1895)
In a world of doubt, a letter unfurls,
Young Virginia seeks truth, her mind in twirls.
"Is there a Santa?" she hesitantly hurls,
A question that into history swirls.

Church, with wisdom, pens a reply,
"Your friends are mistaken," he does imply.
In a skeptical age, where truths may die,
He defends Santa with words that fly.

"Santa exists, as love does too,
Generosity, devotion, a perennial hue.
In a dreary world, without the view
Of Santa's spirit, joy would be askew."

Unseen wonders, Church unveils,
Beyond what sight and science entails.
A curtain veils the world in trails,
Yet faith and fancy set their sails.

Tearing apart a rattle's noise,
He delves into life's unseen joys.
A realm where faith and love deploys,
A truth that time never destroys.

"No Santa Claus?" he declares with glee,
"Thank God, he lives eternally."
Through ages, he'll bring childhood glee,
A timeless tale of festive gaiety.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

Taken from an article in The Sun entitled  “Is there a Santa Clause”
Article published September 21, 1897