JOSEPHINE MOSIER BRONSING
Was my grandmother: thinking about her still kindles memories. She was simply one of the greatest people in my life – ever. A kinder more loving person I have never met. She taught me volumes on being a good person and I am so happy she influenced my life as much as she did in the short time we had.
She was truly a remarkable person, as the following poems show.
I have maybe 100 poems she wrote and I will be posting all of them.
CLICK HERE TO FIND OUT HOW TO BE BORN AGAIN
From here on are the last of her poems that I have. I did an introduction for them and it is somewhat redundant with the above so I should delete but I am going to just add it here. Just skip down if you don’t want my opinion.
My grandmother lived from, 1892 – 1958,
She was 66 years old when she died.
I am so very thankful for my memories of her. She was the best friend any child could have, and I will always esteem her.
However, sometimes sweet memories later prove not so sweet. Not so with mine, and that is, for me, the real joy of these poems. They prove that my grandmother was as warm and tender as I remember her.
My Grandmother was always so happy
SHE ALWAYS MADE ME HAPPY
SHE ALWAYS MADE ME FEEL WANTED
There are 80 poems in all. They date from the early 1920’s through the 1930’s.
WHY DID SHE STOP WRITING HER POEMS
There must be more poems that she wrote.
A poet doesn’t just stop writing.
I do not remember how I got the ones I have now but if more come my way I will be sure to post them.
Poems are a window to the soul of the writer.
Poets are true to themselves
Also many of these poems remind me of my dad. Reading through some I said to myself no way, but then it occurred to me that those poems described my dad and his philosophy of life. Which is a great complement because my dad was a real John Wayne type of guy. The best friend anyone could have and EVERYONE he met was his friend.
My grandmother was a devout Catholic
One thing about these poems is they reflect a normal way that most people thought back then. That is because my grandmother was not high-class nor did she wish to be. Her poems represent a typical poor to middle-class society.
SEPTEMBER 10, 1936 – 44 years old
TO me this house is sacred to the last board
It is here mother taught us how to live and love
IT was she in her unselfish way
Made right our way if things went wrong
THERE we had her counsel her advise
This I know, there is a blessing
IN this house we call home
That even death cannot take away
HER children she loved so dearly
Cannot feel her sweet caress
NOR her kindly words of welcome
But in spirit, she is here
SITTING by the window waiting
For our footsteps at the door
I’M sure that she will guide us
So we may share her home up there
SHE love each nook and corner
I know since she has gone
AND a sublime peace comes o’er me
For her spirit lingers on
IN this house we call home
March 12, 1934
WHY the struggle
What the gain
FOR mere existence
There is pain
FOR every laugh
There is a sob
FOR every effort
BUT don’t forget
That you are you
WHO can know
what you can do?
SO dream your dreams
They may come true
HAVE faith in God
He’ll see you through
July 21, 1932
MOTHER, why is the sky so blue?
How does the stars peep through?
I wish I knew
Is there a man in the moon?
DOES God know each little girl?
Can He hear us if we quarrel?
PLEASE do tell me mother dear
How things come to be so here?
I try as best I can
To explain God’s almighty plan
BUT I know, it can’t be done
For more questions ever come
DOES God love us good or bad?
And I wish that I knew
WHERE our baby came from too?
Do you know, dear little child
YOU have mother sorely tired?
Maybe when you are a man
YOU’LL tell mother if you can
November 26, 1931
WHERE are you climbing baby mine
When you try to raise your foot up high
YOU are making an effort to reach your goal
We will not stop you, but watch you so
WE can give you protection as higher you go
Oh how we parents watch climbing feet!
AND pray and trust they will always meet
A path that will lead them the right way
THAT they may know through our guiding care
Just what steps to take, and when to beware
FOR it is such a short time we have
To prepare you to be a man
BUT we will do the best in our power for you
That is all a mother and dad can do
July 31, 1938
I saw a man approaching me
A familiar figure could it be he
JOHN BROWN, my pal from the old home town
A tramp no doubt, he looked that way
SHABBY, down cast, with care worn face
I stopped, should I speak to this friend of old
I questioned my self, “does he recognize me?”
He slouched back so that I couldn’t see
I had been prosperous, and pride whispered to me
“You can’t speak to him he is no longer your friend”
YOU’LL be ashamed, if someone should see
You speak to anyone as dirty as he”
ANOTHER voice whispered “Don’t pass him by”
For the sake of friendship
JUST give him a smile
It was a hard thing to do
TO stamp pride underfoot
But I mastered myself, and walked over to him
“JOHN BROWN, I believe,” I heard myself say
The man startled, looked up at me
“DICK, his voice only sobbed
I didn’t think you’d bother
I look such a sop
I’m dirty unkept so
I thought I could hide
I prayed you wouldn’t know me
BUT just pass by”
“Why your the same lad
I played with John
Don’t you remember, the old circus show
WHEN I was the bear,
And you were the clown
DON’T you remember the games we played
Those youthful memories will never fade”
ACROSS his face came a boyish smile
And I could see beneath the skin
THE heart and soul of a man there in
One who needed a friend if he ever did
I heard his story of how he came
to be thrust into poverty from wealth and fame
LOSING all but his good name
I helped him as best I could
I am glad I did, he has worthy proved
Had I listened to pride when he spoke to me
NEVER again John Brown would I see
Never again could I sleep at night
WITHOUT the vision of him in sight
Hiding away so I could pass
THANKFUL am I, that I had a chance
to bring back remembrance of youth to this man
AS only old friendship of boyhood can
Today, I am proud to shake his hand,
FOR he just needed a friend who could understand
MY MOTHERS MEMORY
May 9, 1939 – 47 years old
I hear an echo of a lullaby
That has lingered thru the years
A sweet refrain of mother love
That even now must banish fear
A rocking chair, a smiling face
A baby in her arms
WERE all my mother needed
To grace her womanly charms
MOTHER, how I miss you
Surely God alone knows that
SO He leaves you come in spirit
To embrace me, and hold my hand
I shall be like you mother
If God grants me the grace
TO forget myself for others
Then I can take your place.
YOU are so close to Jesus
Will you whisper a sweet prayer
ASK Him to leave my children
A memory just as fair.
The following poem has no name, nor the date it was penned.
IT was a moody day
And March her caprices did play
THE wind blew dead leaves to and fro
And here and there was a patch of snow
March is welcome whether lion or lamb
Welcome her coming it is Gods plan
THAT in this month we feel the winds cruel sting
To make more glorious the breathe of spring
MAY we be gay
Whether it be June or December
WHAT maters the weather
When real friends are together
LIFT high your glass
For time will pass
WHO knows what brings tomorrow
Today counts most
SO cheer and toast
Keep hearts alight with laughter
THAT MEN MIGHT LIVE
MY son died that men might live
In peace and love
BUT he choose greed, hate and lust
And that is why dear son, your marching of to war
DEAR son it is not hard to die
For righteous cause
MUCH harder for to live
And be ashamed to face the morning dawn
DEAR son you kept faith in me
And I choose you remember this
THAT I will take you to my heart,
As no human ever did
AND I will give you love and peace
And no greed, or hate, or lust
CAN ever enter in
And you will truly be a brother to My Son
FOR you have died for holy Christendom
I am just my Son paid
AND you shall not die in vain
Your name shall shine in glory
AND cast a light upon the earth
No human will dole out your reward
TRIUMPHANTLY you die –
And triumphantly you shall arise, dear son
TO your reward eternal Paradise
THE FOLLOWING POEM HAS NO NAME, NOR DATE IT WAS PENNED.
DON’T wait for tomorrow
Do that kind act today
BUT if you are given to meanness and hate
Then wait for tomorrow
IT will then be to late
Too late for tomorrow will then be today
AND you will have put all your anger away
If only we mortals could see what despair
WE can bring to another we would beware
Beware of forgetting the other man’s rights
FOR it is a pity to see some men strive
For what they think is right
IN their self righteous way
For those who come under such human control
MUST suffer a lash that sears the soul
No man is so righteous he dares to demand
THE judgment of brother, and that’s God’s command
Kindness will always gain more in the end
THEN all domineering or ugly words said
Wouldn’t you rather be called a friend to all men
THEN an egotist, who stands up and shouts
While life is still his
MEN shun him in life
And forget him when dead
CAN you laugh at others follies
And forgive another’s faults
CAN you listen to a story
With no interest, without scoff?
CAN you when others deride,
Stand up for what you know is right?
CAN you defend and hold your own,
And be proud to say just what your for?
CAN you see a man knell in prayer,
And be tolerant of his faith in God?
CAN you say you are his brother
Weather he be Christian, infidel, or Jew
CAN you, that is the question?
Answered only truthfully by you.
CAN you give a helping hand
To a fellow brother in distress
WITHOUT thought of earthly gain?
For the silent cheerful giver
HAS the reward without the fame.
THE FOLLOWING POEM HAS NO NAME, NOR DATE IT WAS PENNED
WE question why
And then pause
HOW can we
Fathom life’s mysteries
BIRTH and death
He bids us come
HE bids us go
He fashions human hearts
LIKE to His own
Joy at birth
GRIEF at death
Life is His plan
WE’LL question not His way
But bow our heads
AND do His will each day
THAT CERTAIN DOOR
WHEN day is done, I stride along
Without a song within my heart
FOR hard the day has been
But when I reach a certain door
WHERE eager faces wait for me
What maters then what care or woe
HAS been my lot that day
For on the air, I hear a merry song.
A Child’s sweet laugh, and love I know is there
Awaiting me within the portals of that door.
FIEND OF MY YOUTH
I met my friend of youthful days
And though we traveled separate ways
FOR quite a few years I wondered
If she cared as much as I
BUT when her dear hand clasped mine
And I felt the warm glow of her smile,
I knew it was but yesterday,
That we had strolled together.
AND so that meeting friend of mine
Let us but know, that time and space,
CANNOT erase the friendship of our youth.
So truly simply it was then,
A part of God’s almighty plan,
And so our destines are shaped.
DEAR friend, I’m part of you, and
You of me in youthful memories,
FOR I can think of those dear days,
But I see you face to face
JESUS, my Lord, my God, my all
That I may know Thee, as thou art
ALL love, all power, and truth
I would ask for nothing else
FOR in Thee all things are fulfilled
THE BIRDS SONG
LITTLE birdie in the tree
Singing songs for you and me
WILL you tell me of God’s love
And why He sent you from above?
YES dear children, I will tell you
Why I gladly sing today.
‘TIS the mission He has given
That I sing and cheer your way.
WHEN you hear one warble love songs
Please remember, He loves you
LIFT your eyes and join me
For to Him all praise is due.
ROMPING, laughing full of fun
Nothing can distress you.
‘TIS the age that all love best
No other can replace it.
HOW as boys, you love to fight
Mother said it wasn’t right
DAD would act as thou not pleased
But at heart he was at ease
WHY chide one, he did the same
It’s a boys life to be game.
DON’T let the other fellow get you down
Fight to the last and try to win.
OH! those were wonder days for me!
To romp, to jump, to climb a tree.
YES, every hour was filled with glee
As I took all youth offered me.
MY youth has made me what I am
For in these years we form the man
GUIDED by those, we love the best
We glance back at youth for strength and rest.
AT times, when care and trials beset one
I sit and ponder o’er those days
NEW courage, to by heart they bring
And I go fighting on, as when a lad,
WITH this untiring spirit I shall win.
LOVE, that word devine
MEANING all to us who know
The precious taste of sweetness
EACH new love on us bestows.
How our mother loved us dearly
SHE watch our every deed.
And its true her love is rarest
NEXT to God, she holds first place.
Then there is our own dear father
WHO for love of us alone
Strives and toils to make us happy
SWEET the memories of him and home.
Sisters, brothers, how we love them
SHARING each and every joy.
Only love can make things worthwhile
AS along lives’ path we go.
Next our true and trusted friendships,
HOW we need these friends each day
For alone we would be failures
THROUGH others help is how we gain.
Then a new love comes a calling
IT is mating time for you
And your heart with love is choosing
ONE whose heart is loving too.
God is love and we can see it.
AS each step in life we take
Love’s His choicest blessing given
LET us share it, for His sake
YOUR mirror would tell a story
Gaze into it and see yourself
AS others see you, as you are
And all your moods will show up here.
NOW if you see an ugly line
Upon that face of yours
DON’T wince and look away
It was brought there throughout the years
DESPAIR, anger, fear, and pain
Will surely leave their traces
FOR every human impulse shows
No mater what, upon our faces
GLADNESS, love, joy and peace
Gives us the smile worthwhile
A cheery word, a happy thought,
Makes the face radiant as the sun
LIFE’S made up of smiles and tears
Joys and sorrows, doubts and fears
LET our face show kindly lines
overcoming fears with smiles
AS the years go speeding by,
If you try to smile your best
YOU will gladly take your mirror
For the reflection there you see,
WILL to you a credit be
THE EMPTY CAGE
JUST yesterday you sang a merry song
And made us happy as you warbled on,
BUT now, no more we hear your thrilling notes
For empty is the cage we called your home.
WE miss you little birdie
You were part of our abode
AND the corner that was yours is sad and dread
Death has robed it of your song of cheer
A song I heard at eventide
Tho it had been many years ago
It seems it was but yesterday
So fast the time has flown.
THE song was full of love’s delight
The singer young and fair
SHE thrilled the hearts of all who heard
Her voice was sweet and clear
THAT song was meant to linger on
In memories, so it seems
T’WAS such a pretty happy rhyme
The thought would make you dream.
IT was kind of song that lives
And never grows old with time
IT brought a message to all who heard
Oh love to live! for love is life
LOVE while you may, the time is short
Give all you have to give
OF kindly thoughts and loving words
THEN YOU, LIKE THIS SONG SHALL EVER LIVE
July 30, 1929
THE crucifix, a symbol of love divine,
Let none that gaze upon it
FORGET what it signifies.
Love as strong as death.
HE bore your burdens to the cross
And failed you not. Will you fail Him?
GIVE back His love with love.
Let charity abound within your heart
FOR it is His command that we love all.
And all created things, abide by His demands.
EXCEPT the human heart of man
Invested with a super power, the will
DEFIES his God, and goes his own distracted way.
OH human heart! Let silence reign in you
AND concentrate upon Christ crucified.
Can you see Jesus? Look deep within His heart.
IT’S crying out “For you I died
Let not my sacrifice be in vain
IT is not much I ask
Your love for me – and all your fellowmen.”
April 12, 1926 – 34 years old
HAPPINESS, you we do seek you,
These poor human hearts of ours
ARE always searching
To bask in sunshine neath your bower.
IN this life we are denied it,
The true happiness we seek
BUT in seeking we’re not losers
This desire makes us worthy to achieve
IF you wish to be truly happy
Near as mortals er’e can be,
LIVE a life of unselfish service
God, then man should be our creed.
GIVE to God all praise and glory
And to man what is his due
GOD’S command “Love One Another”
Means happiness to all who do.
April 15, 1926
OH misty clouds! against a sky of blue
With purple, red and gold blending in with you
THE day is done and beautifully ending
In twilight time that fades away to soon
April 20, 1926
DREAMING just dreams, but they are true
Love as the love I have for you
LET me keep dreaming sweetly content
Lying my head close to your breast.
OH happy hours! Moments divine!
No I won’t I wont loose them their mine for all time
Dreams tucked away in memory sweet.
Life is sublime to this dreamer of dreams
April 23, 1926
BE prudent in the little things of life
The unkind act or thoughtless words we speak
OF’T makes this world a bitter place
And fills our lives with ugly endless strife.
PRUDENT thought will give you trusted friendships
And gold cannot compare with wealth like this
WEIGH every word before the thought is spoken
“I did not mean it” is often just to late
YOUR friend may say “I know
You did not mean to hurt”
BUT this will not efface the thought
For the memory you cannot burn
“THE ELM MANOR”
on the river grand
June 25, 1927 – 35 years old
A home surrounded by beauty sublime.
Where we can see, that there is one divine.
HE gave each man, the beauty in his eyes
To see the trees, the birds the twilight sky
Here they are mirrored in depths of clear blue glass
On this river that was rightly name the “the Grand”
THESE paintings rare are by no artist’s hand
They are not purchased by a costly sum,
TIS then we feel His presence very near
And we His children should never fear
HIS love for us, when other hearts grow cold
He fails us not, each season comes and goes
AND brings new blessings from above
The proof of His great love.
BUT when the day is done,
And twilight shadows fall across the hill,
THEN they are yours or mine
If we will lift the veil that sometimes dims our eye.
AND sit in silence in this heavenly spot,
There to commune, with no one else but God
THE proof of His divinity,
This gift from God to man
April 20, 1927
LOOK up and see the light!
Tho dark and dreary shadows fall.
THE ray is always there
It is like the morning dawn
LOOK up with faith and hope
To Him who leads the way.
AND all the light of love will come
To soothe and strengthen from above.
THERE is no cloud that will pass,
No peircing sorrow that can last
IF we can lift our eyes and see
GOD’S light of love shining eternally.
January 3, 1928 – 36 years old
LET us be friends you and I
And when these happy days roll by
Of boyhood free from every care
We will still be friends to do and dare
And the bigger things in life to share
December 23, 1927
CHRISTMAS, and all it means,
Is here again with joy supreme
LET every faithful heart proclaim
Their King, and bow at this infant’s name.
OH infant Jesus, sweetest babe!
From out your manger bed of straw
YOU smile, a smile of love to all.
God’s gift to man on Christmas morn
SWEET Jesus let our hearts rejoice
And bring them to your lovely crib.
THE only gift we have to give,
To Jesus Christ – our new born King
ALL beauty around us lies
And still our poor human eye,
WILL long and sigh for beauty that would fade away,
And ne’er be brought to earth again.
FOR nature paints her springy days,
With sprouting twigs and early greens,
AND summer brings forth all the flowers
That spring held hidden in her arms.
AUTUMN beauty is quite rare,
And leaves once green now turn to gold.
E’EN winter’s blast cannot destroy,
But adds more luxury to the scene,
WITH crystal settings snowy white,
That cover flowers that bloom again.
SO never let a day go by
Without a look at yonder sky.
THE purple, blue or gold there in,
Are beauties that are born again
EACH season has a beauty to bestow.
What greater proof of God’s great love,
OR the power of beauty born above
MOTHER dear to hold your hand,
When no one seems to understand.
WHY the clouds have to gray
And I have forgotten how to pray.
IT is your help I need most then,
And a look into your eyes.
MAKES one know and realize,
That there is nothing so worthwhile
AS steadfast love and cheerful smiles,
It will strengthen and renew
FAITH in God, and mankind too,
That is why, I long for you Mother Dear.
July 11, 1928 – 36 years old
BEAUTIFUL stately phlox and lilies nod their heads,
Wafting heavenly perfume in the air
OH you who look for beauty everywhere!
Go to a spot like this naught with it can compare.
TIS true the flowers must fade away and die,
And here where beauty seemed to dwell supreme
A barren mass of nothingness will be
But winter’s blast cannot destroy the scene for me
A phlox and lily bed I’ll see
A MOTHER’S DREAM
A little babe coved in her arms,
Singing a song of baby charms
SHE sat and dreamed of years to come,
And then she pledged to do her best,
TO bring this child to manhood’s door
Prepared for all life holds in store.
OH God! I cannot do this by myself
I know I’ll need your constant help
SO I may mould this bit of love,
Entrusted to my care by thee
INTO a noble upright man
Then I can proudly say that he,
IS mine through love and unity.
Dear Lord, if this my dream come true,
AS I can see him now, babe, youth, then man.
No sacrifice will be to great for me to make
IF I can see him knell in prayer to thee
When manhood comes, my dream will be a reality,
FOR this my Lord I pray
October 24, 1927 – 35 years old
I care not if I’m weary thru and thru,
In service for the love of you.
OR if my toil is hard throughout the day.
I know when evening shadows fall,
THAT I can place my tired head
Upon your breast and rest,
FOR this one thing I’m certain of – Your love
So come what may,
I’ll always prove I’m worthy of your trust
You have proved to me sincerely
THAT a friend you’ll always be
God has blessed me with true friendship
NAUGHT but death can take from me
A MOTHER’S HANDS
THE hands that cool the fevered brow in pain,
They work without that earthly gain.
THE hands that vibrate with love
And have a benediction from above.
THEY are not for her own alone.
She lifts them up with soothing tenderness.
WHEN trials of pain or woe beset the human soul
My mothers hands were made for love
October 21, 1930 – 38 years old
IT is easy to criticize another’s plan
For each brain conceives a webbing span.
AND tho your way, may be right for you.
For the other man it would not do
THE other fellow thinks, the same as you.
His brain is working for him too.
HE is doing the best in his power.
And hopes to succeed in some future hour
SO unless your criticism will be of help
Please lock it up in a brain cell.
WHERE it won’t retard some other man.
From doing the things, he knows he can.
October 27, 1930
WELL we must be going
We had such a lovely time
YOU folks must come to see us.
Come Joe, it is half past nine.
MY dear, I just discovered,
I have mislaid my glove.
OH, there it is I found it!
It is time, we are getting on.
THE men must have a secret,
They’re hanging back there so.
I wonder what they’re doing?
I have my hat and coat on Joe.
AND so for more then an hour.
The smith’s are taking leave.
IT seems almost incredible,
For most folks to believe.
BUT it is very truth itself.
I’M telling in this rhyme.
SOME folks make it a big task
To say the little word “goodbye”
COURAGE my brother the storm will pass.
The tempest of life cannot last.
IT is like the clouds, that hang overhead.
And the turbulent sea that roars and rends
AFTER the rain the sun will shine,
And the sea will recede and be sublime.
OUR life is like to nature’s storm.
The sun would be less beautiful,
IF the clouds didn’t interfere
For sunshine would be monotonous
IF we had it every day in the year.
So let us appreciate the raindrops
ALSO the tears in our lives
For the God who sends them knows
WE have need of strength and courage
And if we rely on Him
HE will conquer all life’s storm
As He quiets the sea and wind
IT is not what earthly possessions you have acquired that counts so much
IT is what you have made of yourself that sums it all up
YOU AND I
(To Mrs. Wigman & Agnes)
I am thinking of you dear friend
Of the many happy hours we spent
FROM childhood until we started out to roam.
Each corner there, around our square
HOLDS memories, free from every care.
And so I know, that you like me
TURN back your thoughts in memories.
And live the days we lived before.
I see a picture of us three,
Your mother you and me,
THE blessing on us she bestowed,
When parting for our daily tasks,
What sweeter memory could we ask.
I have never forgotten, and I never will.
FOR it lingers in fancy, and I hear her still.
“God bless you, and keep you both this day.
From any harm that may come your way.”
OPPORTUNITY is said to knock but once,
At every mans door.
BUT this is a false saying,
As many more we have heard before.
IF you have grit and courage,
To fight disappointment down.
AND keep for your goal striving
When everything you plan goes wrong
YOU will win if you then sing a song
Success is not luck or chance,
SO don’t begrudge the winner.
But do the best you can do,
AND to yourself and others be true.
If this you do you will not fail.
THO you do stumble back and forth,
For you cannot lose if your bound to win,
FOR this is success to work and grin.
A MOTHERS GRIEF
IT is so hard for me to give you back
To Him, who sent you for a little while
YOUR baby head has nestle close to me.
As you would gaze upon me with a smile.
YES, child of mine, my angel
You were just a little flower
GOD choose to take you from me
Before you knew the thorn of life.
GRIEF stricken is my heart today,
As there within my sight you lay,
AMID a bed of purest flowers,
But none so sweet and rare as thee.
GOOD bye my little boy good bye.
It is but natural that I should cry
YOUR mother knew your sweet caress
Oh baby arms! My happiness.
MY little angel, you have crossed the bridge
We all must travel young or old,
IN answer to His call, to Him we go.
CHURCH OF MY CHILDHOOD
February 13, 1929 – 37 years old
I knelt in the church of my childhood.
The presence of God was in the air.
A heavenly peace came over me,
As I lifted my heart in silent prayer.
OH God make me again as a little child!
Knelling before thee humble and mild.
GIVE to my soul the peace I knew,
When I placed all my trust in you.
LET the old world clamor, for gold and lore.
And all the false bable and fame.
IT is nothing I wish to struggle for,
If the peace of my soul is the price I must pay.
BUT now I know, I will always be,
Just a child when I speak to thee.
WHAT a comfort along life’s way,
To know a Father watches o’er me, night and day
September 3, 1930 – 38 years old
PLAN the thing and do it.
Let other men deride
THERE are always some who scorn
Every new thought that is born.
GREAT men and women too,
Have to fight their way thru,
JUST the same way as you
Tell them all to laugh and jeer,
YOU will do the thing you planned,
That your’re efforts were not in vain.
EVEN if you have to fail,
There is knowledge to be gained.
IT is worth your thought and aim,
For the chances are you’ll win.
BUT you wont unless you try.
It is your plan is it not?
WORK with vim and try it out
July 31, 1930
I’LL not be with the crowd
Let them all shout out loud
DO the thing they wish to do
But unless I can be true
TO myself and my beliefs
I’m not going to be deceived
AND for just a little fun
Tear down standards that begun
IN my early infancy
What my parents taught to me
IF I must I’ll stand alone
Proud God gave me courage so
I have the strength to say “NO”
When all the crowd is shouting “GO”
A BOYS WOE
I wish they would let me be,
And stop taking care of me,
I told you it would end like that,
You wont amount to a rap.
EVER since I’ve been three
I remember words like these
WHY don’t you sit straight in your chair
And did you ever see such unruly hair?
GOSH gee, I’m twelve years old today
And I feel big in my own way.
BUT I just heard my father shout,
“Do you think he is old enough to be a scout”
SPRING AND GOD
April 13, 1930
I heard a bird chanting his morning prayer,
For spring and gladness were in the air.
THE violets lifted their modest heads,
And green spears peeked from tulip beds.
AWAKE sordid hearts, and look about
How could anyone doubt there is a God?
And the least we can do for this great love
Is to lift our hearts and eyes above.
AND give thanks to Him
As all other things do in natures flow,
THIS is all God asks of man
LIFT up your heart to Him,
Who knows your every need,
AND there will be no burden
That will be to hard to bear.
FOR you, for me, there’s trials that come each day,
What right have we to say-
IT is too much, I cannot bear no more
Our strength we know not until it has its test
HAVE faith in God, and He will do the rest.
JUST FOR YOU
September 27, 1930
A home where love abides,
And little children laugh and play
TIS all I ask
What joy is mine,
TO plan and help you,
To achieve success.
WHAT more do I ask,
For this is happiness.
SOMETHING to live for.
Just your love,
IS all I ask,
October 10, 1930
IT isn’t much the friendly smile
Or the cheery word or two
WE give to some poor brother
Who reflect the sunshine back to you.
YOU don’t have to know him
He is your brother just the same
AND what a world of good you’ve done
Because you smiled at him that way.
IT gave him courage all anew
Oh brother how he needs it!
YOU wll never know the good you do.
But God knows and blessed you.
IT’S the little things in life that count,
The little joys, the trifling woes,
LITTLE bits of kindness, we humans crave for so,
Scattered thru our lives make us great –
So never be so busy,
TO give a friendly smile.
A hearty handshake or a jest.
THESE little things, so small mean all.
To human hearts like yours and mine
THE SILENT VOICE
(In memory of Jerry Buckley)
July 29, 1930
[On a whim I googled “Jerry Buckly and got this
Gerald E. “Jerry” Buckley (died July 23, 1930 in Detroit, Michigan) was a Detroit radio commentator, who successfully campaigned for the recall of Mayor Charles Bowles in the wake of corruption allegations. Prior to his death, Buckley had served as an investigator for Henry Ford, and as a special investigator for the United States government.
On the night of the successful recall, Buckley was approached by three men and shot eleven times in the lobby of the LaSalle Hotel in Detroit. A crowd of over 100,000 people attended his funeral.
After his murder, Detroit Police Commissioner Wilcox declared that Buckley was a known extortionist and racketeer and had likely been killed because of his underworld connections. Buckley’s brother Paul, a former assistant prosecutor, claimed that the murder was orchestrated as revenge for the campaign against the mayor.
Although there were several arrests, there were no convictions obtained for the killing. The gunman were later identified as Russell Syracuse, Joseph English, and John Mirabella.
copied from – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerry_Buckley_%28journalist%29%5D
A voice beloved by all who cherished right,
Was stilled by brutal men at night.
WHO knew not what they did
How sad their plight
FOR Jerry’s shadow follows them,
Thru out their lives.
I hear him speaking now –
“Why did you kill me it was not your gain,
AND if for others all the more the shame.
You took my life, you cannot take my name,
FOR I left it untarnished,
But I never looked for fame.
TO those who killed me,
And robed me of my life,
GOD be merciful and let them see the light.
To those who loved me
AND listened to my voice
God bless you, and help you carry on,
October 6, 1918 – 26 years old
DEAR friend, That is what I call you
And the word is not displaced
WHETHER clouds are bright and or dreary
You will always be the same.
SO I lean a little towards you,
Place my troubles on your shoulders too,
FOR I know, you will share my burdens
That is what a friend should do
SAME OLD WAY
October 24, 1928
LIFE’S journey is nearly over,
But I never tire of hearing you say
THAT you love me always
Love me in the same old way.
STEADFAST through the years, you’ve been dear
Happy memories we recall,
AND those that cast a shadow
Cannot mare the scene at all.
SO I wish to tell you darling,
While I sit and meditate,
THAT I too will love you always
Love you in the same old way
October 24, 1928
LITTLE one run out and play
Just be merry, happy and gay.
THIS is the time my child for you
To have nothing else but play to do.
TIME will come when no longer
You can take your time to sauter
THEN little feet will have to hurry
And your brain eill work and worry.
MOTHER would keep you just like this
Carefree, happy sweetly kissed,
BUT then a man you would never be
So you must grow up, and away from me
CHEERFULNESS is the sunshine in life
Bright days come and go
BUT he, that brings sunshine
When clouds are the darkest
WILL never be forgotten in the day book of life
THEY stand erect and stalwart
No storm could make them fear
FOR they had felt the battle
Of the wind for many a year
THEY knew how to look upward
When clouds were dark and drear
AND when the storm was over
The sturdy oaks were there
FROM tiny seed man planted
These trees, and they grew in majesty
HAS man stood the test of time
Like this row of mighty oaks?
HAS his head always been uplifted
Willing to do his maker’s will?
OR has he with his intellect
Just made of himself a fool
MEET Mrs, Tip-tilted chin
Who thinks she is better then Mrs., D
AND has no time for her socially
But who is better we shall see
MRS. D at times be frowzy
With rumpled hair and shiny nose
BUT of this she’s not aware
She forgets herself for her neighbor’s sake
SHE has time to say “Good morning”
And to sympathize with you
IF you’re sort of down and lonely
She will cheer you thru and thru
NOT so with Mrs. Tip-tilted chin
Her time is given to her own kin
SHE just can’t smile unless she knows
The recipient has position and pretty clothes
I’VE compared these two, as best I can
Just so, you would understand
WHICH neighbor would you choose for a friend.
I know who I would recommend.
June 1st, 1935
HER SPIRIT LIVES
SHE died. It seemed just a bad dream
And some may say “I knew her only casually”
WHY does it mean so much to me today?
Sometimes our hearts are bound
WITH mutual interests this is so
As mothers we sense the common touch
AND though we met not after
I knew, if I should need a friend
THAT I could call upon Marie
It was friendship deeper then mere words
THAT placed you in my heart
As one of Gods chosen few
WHO loved you for what you were,
Not for what you had, or what you do
AND so I grieve that God called you away
But in memory I’ll recall
A cheery word, a happy smile from you
It was these kindly acts that you deemed small
LEAVES you live in spirit in the hearts of all
Who had the privilege to know you as a friend
MAY 29 – 1936
A ray of light came in my room
shedding a glow of warmth
MY body was wretched with pain
My soul filled with woe
A voice I heard “good morning”
And glancing up I’d see
A bright cheery face
A smiling down at me
YOUR hands have helped to soothe me
Your spirit to lift me up!
GOD bless you each day
With His divine love
MAY 14 – 1935
ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS AND MEN
JUST a bowl of flowers
To the passing observer
THEY seem to be so real but they are not
Their artificial as can be
THEY fool some folks, not me.
Are you like this bowl of flowers
A make believe of your true self
Who is trying to be someone else?
IF so you are just an artificial man.
Each man has something definite
TO accomplish in this world
Some may achieve greater fame then others
DO your work big or small not your brothers
You will not succeed unless you do
EACH task preformed has its reward
Artificial flowers have their place
BUT artificial men are a pitiful mistake.
THE OTHER WAY
JUST for today
I’ll look the other way
I wont pass familiar scenes
I’ll look for new ones in between
I wonder if there’ll be regret
I wont see my morning pets
THE dog who barks a loud hello
The old lady, who is ill
AND sits close by the sill
She smiles at me, and I at her
I wonder will they miss me too
Somehow I hope, that thy do
AND they will look for me today
To pass along my old way
FOR just today I’m going to stray
The other way
RAIN upon my window pane
Is not depressing to me
IT sooth me softly off to sleep,
As tears in life oft bring relief
TO weary heart and soul
So does the rain, God meant it to be so
Nov 13, 1931
MY books are friends to me
And when I’m lonely as can be
I take one down from off the shelf
To find it soothes my inner self
MY books will not speak harsh or ill
Or tell me you have been a fool
I should of done this or that
It lies quite still within my hand
TO let me think my problems through
And I can read, if I choose
OR cast it back upon the shelf
Without a thought of giving pain
HUMAN friends need catering too
My books are friends at my demand
To Helen and Pete
A mother heart with love for little ones,
But fate denied her any of her own,
TO brighten up the portals of her home
And so she mothered little waif’s of love
IT seems God made her for this noble task.
But she is not alone in this good deed,
FOR he who helps to guide their destinies,
Must take some of the credit for his own.
THEY are double blest, these two
Who think not of themselves
BUT sacrifice, for little loves like these.
The world will never know
THE good they do – nor do they care
Their reward is paid with love,
THE most priceless blessing from above
And so God sends a benediction down
ON those who tho denied their own
Give their paternal love to one
LESS fortunate then they, but God’s children all,
Born of great heritage or small.
AMERICANS are broadminded you hear people say,
We boast of being a rich host
AND every foreigner we toast
From Kings to make believe Dukes
IT seems we are somewhat to blame
When we are criticized with little shame
BY foreigners we helped to fame.
America’s broadminded view is her undoing
SHE trusts all and seeks no wrong
While faces are in her midst brooding
PLANNING destruction while we look on
We must protect our constitutional rights
AMERICA awake and do not wait
We must prepare before to late
NO mater how the battles fought
We here at home must not forget our trust
OUR forefathers shed their blood for this
We can do no more, but we are duty bound
TO safeguard this our independent heritage.
Let us be broadminded in a sane way
OR America you and you alone will rue the day.
Rue the day you tear down standards
THAT brave men made, but who can’t speak
If they could their graves would shout
IN unison “God grant your strength to be brave”
We left a country free, with golden opportunities
WILL you make it a pauper
And have us curse you from our graves
JUST anger is ours, when we look down
With fear. For God is past history now
IT is old fashioned to kneel down and pray
For help as did our heroes of the past
OH that Washington and Lincoln’s creed
Lived in the hearts of those who ruled our land
A living faith in God should be in every American heart
A determination that each must do his part.
FOR our country right or wrong
Proud to be Americans Proud of our America
FOR she is the best country God ever gave a man
THE MIRACLE AGE
WE live in a miracle age
Each hour brings something new
WE accept and use everything as tho,
We belong to this world long ago.
DID we wonder, not we
It was just meant to be.
THE music we hear in the air
And all the other mysteries that are here.
AND some will say “What marvels man can make
But who made man with wondering brain?
IT was God. Life is the greatest mystery of all.
IT is not what you have been
That is of so much interest
IT is what you are now
And what you aim to be.
FAILURES that are past
Should not cloud the future
WE must refuse to be a looser.
Build new be a doer
IT is weak to admit defeat.
Tho sometimes we feel it
CROWD it out – chase it away
If you want to succeed today.
TODAY is yours, and mine
The past is gone with time
REGRETS will bring it back no more.
So turn your back, and lock the door
WHY waste today with morbid thought
Time does not last. It can’t be bought
GONE are all the yesterdays
Your opportunities are here today.
DEAR folks if you but knew
My very inmost thoughts of you
THOUGHTS tongues just can’t express
Thoughts deep down in my heart
THAT breaths a little prayer
To God to keep you and yours always.
AND shower special blessings down
Upon your loved ones this day
DEAR folks I think of you this way
FOLKS WHO CALL
WHEN folks run in to call on me
I’m just as happy as can be
I know they feel a welcome cheer
So they just come when they are near
THEY wait not for a formal note
To say come on this day or year
FOR I await these friends all time,
Who come a smiling in our hall
FOR I love folks, who come to call
CAN this be you
You, who I so love
I look back many years
To youth and our wedding vows
OH, could it mean so little!
That you can cast me off,
AND even heartlessly ask
That I forget our love and all
WE are but human mortals you and I
There is a higher power then ours
HE watches all our deeds both good and bad
And passes judgment as no other can.
I love you too much to harm you dear
Or blemish put on your career
LOVE as strong as death seal tight my lips
I’ll speak no ill
WHAT if it was I, who turned my love to hate for you?
Would you have shielded me as nobly
AND defended me on every side
Let your heart speak and judge you
AND don’t be afraid to say
“That surely she loves me
LOVES me in the same old way.”
Love you when I should hate you
BUT then, that wouldn’t be love
For our Savior died for those
WHO hanged Him on the cross.
I have felt some of His anguish
IN the bitter months that past
He alone has given me courage
BUT I walk the path with Him
Please be sure of what you’re doing
PRAY and ask God’s grace today
And as He forgave His slayers
SO will I, if you but say! –
“That you need me, and you love me
LOVE me in the same old way.”
I love you daddy dear
Whispered from my baby’s lips
AS he looks up tenderly.
Is worth more then gold to me
GOLD will tarnish and is cold
And can’t buy my baby’s smiles
OR that look in his bright eyes
That warms my heart until I die
THO we both grow old with time
He will always be mine
AND in memory will recall
Baby days sweetest of all
IT’S the little smile that gladdens
Making sunshining the day
AND the hearty handclasp of a friend
That cheers us on our way
THE human craves for this food
That cost us but a cheerful mood
IF you but knew the good it wrought
Your smile would beam where’ere you walked.
SOME MOTHER’S BOY
SOME mother’s boy has fallen
Some mother’s boy has strayed
SOME mother’s heart is broken
Some mother weeps in vain.
SOME mother remembers a curly head
As she patted the curls when she tucked him in bed
SOME mother just like you
Prayed for her boy would be good and true
BUT mothers sometime don’t understand
That so we watch the baby feet
AND take the romping lad’s hand
That youth is just a grown up boy
AND he is not a man
Protect him now all you can
GIVE him a home bright with cheer
A mother and dad he can’t forget
THESE blessings of home and love
Are benedictions from above
SO open the door and shutters wide
Let a welcome shine from inside
FOR no boy or girl went very wrong
Who would let their voice blend in happy song
THEN you meet your child’s friends
And you can judge and make comment
PUT his interest first not yours
It is your duty, you dare not shirk.
BUT what a reward when you proudly say
This is my boy, my son always
PATHWAY OF LIFE
IT takes courage and vim on the pathway of life
To always do, what we know to be right
AND often we falter and make a misstep
But this is the pathway of life to the end.
SOMETIMES our efforts are ever so slow
And then with a gallop our footsteps will go.
BRING us back to the path that leads right
The pathway of love, contentment and light.
MANY a time we have turned to the left
Thinking that rosy path surely the best
OUR vision was clouded, the joy seemed so great
It vanished and left us nothing but pain.
STAY to the right, and if you do deviate
Don’t linger to long or you won’t find your way.
LOST in the glamour of folly and sin
The pathway of life – that your mother began.
November 10 1930
WE are born to die
There is no truer fact.
WE know not the span
Of our lives, we have no say.
LIFE comes to us that way.
Be it for a day or years.
IT is not our will we choose, to die or live.
He gives man life
TO do with what he can.
And when He wishes it
HE calls back every man
For life belongs to Him
And His creative plan
HAVE you made somebody happy,
As they plodded on their way?
DID you give a sweet smile
To a heavy heart today?
HE needn’t be your brother,
Or some friend of long ago
BUT just somebody passing
Who needs a smile, who knows
AND when the day is over
What a joy if you can say!
“I’VE tried to scatter happiness
Along my path today.”
THE wind blew in and said “howdo,
I’m blowing a gail for you.
I know, you don’t appreciate me,
But I must do my work you see.
I blow the clouds of gray away,
And chase the rain, and blow again
SO everything will be dry and clear.
This is my mission, part of the year.
BUT when winter comes, and you hear me blow,
I’ll bite your nose and ears and toes.
THEN you will scowl, and wish me away.
But I’ll not go, I must stay.
I’LL blow again for it is my job.
To make the fire in your fire-place gleam.
SO when you sit by it and dream,
I know you wouldn’t think so mean”
OH what a hurt!
Tho neither blood or bruise could there be seen
IF it was but this kind of hurt
So quickly healed it could be.
IT was a word that pierced the heart
In bitter angry spoken
WHO of us deserves the cruel sting
That thoughtless words and action bring
WHEN a dear loved one forgets
In time of sudden anger
THEIR tongue become an edged blade
Much keener then a dagger
REPENTANCE comes, but it’s too late
The wound in time will heal
BUT the scar it leaves is always there
Tho in our hearts concealed
April 23, 1926
WHAT is it we call ambition?
The force of heart and soul
THAT makes us strive for better things
And eventually reach our goal
UPWARD and onward there can be no defeat
And the higher we aim
JUST so far will you or I soar
This is ambition
April 11, 1926