God Speaks To My Heart

Open door, breeze on my face,
I smell the rain, think of my friend,
He has passed, to another place,
His long struggle's reached it's end,

I feel this emptyness in me,
The grief is new, this final part,
yet there is comfort in this grief,
God must be speaking to my heart,

There is a fragile thread of hope,
that one day we will meet again,
the gentle thoughts that help me cope,
with crushing grief, the loss of friend,

and yet, think I, I keep the gift,
of every precious memory,
of all the time I got to spend,
that grew the love I'll keep with me

poem by Elizabeth Lindberg
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The Legend Of Big Foot

A hairy man once roamed the earth,
a hairy thing, was he from birth,
the years would come, the years would go,
each year that passed, his hair would grow,
it grew so thick, his mum dispaired,
yet she kept trimming off his hair,
til sissors worn to nubs one day,
he shucked his clothes, and ran away,
his back, his bum, his chest, his head,
was covered with thick hair, it's said,
no need for clothes, so he wore none,
people would laugh, and he would run,
no runner born on Earth could beat,
this hairy critter with big feet,
he slept by day and roamed by night,
for cruel folk, had made him shy,
quite good in heart was he, bigfoot,
he never stole, he never took,
one day while he munched watercress,
he found a maiden in distress,

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poem by Elizabeth Lindberg
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