Mended
When turbulence overtakes me
And it seems everyone forsakes me
My heart within me is rended
Yet my soul is ascended
And my spirit is transcended
Because through blessed visitation,
Jesus invitation, and Holy Spirit inspiration
I am mended
To be healed one must yield to God's Will
A repentent and humble soul He will fill
With graces enough to get through the day
And upon bended knees one begins to pray
Promising to follow Jesus' Way
Because through blessed visitation,
Jesus invitation, and Holy Spirit inspiration
One is mended.
poem by Mel Patterson
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Traveling
Entering the Springtime of my life years ago
Myriads of emotions sprinkled with bouts of woe
Tested my metal and kept me sway
As I traveled a journey toward The Way.
Little did I know in the heat of the Summer
Eventually I would surmount as an overcomer
Obstacles of draughts and fires that charred my soul
As I traveled a journey toward The Goal.
As the Autumn of my life came and went
I pondered if prior seasons were well spent
Resolving to focus on others, myself as least
I now traveled a journey toward the Banquet Feast.
Now in the Wintertime of my Salvific traveling
Avenues of serenity are oft pitted by graveling
Step by stoney step I mount the steep climb
Traveling the journey toward a Heaven sublime.
[...] Read more
poem by Mel Patterson
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Happiness is
Happiness is watching the sun rise in the east
As it gradually peeks over the canyon so grand
While watching it set in the west is quite a feast
All of it is through God our Creator's hand.
Happiness is walking barefoot along the beach
Salty ocean waves frothily rumbling ashore
The ebbs and the flows of the tides reach
Hot white sands sweeping them offshore.
Happiness is planting yellow sunflower seeds
Watering them daily watching them grow tall
Tenderly caring for them, removing the weeds
Blessed be to God ~ He made them all.
Happiness is in serving our neighbor and sharing
Loving one another in this world that we live in.
Happiness is being alone with God in praying,
Repenting of our sins and being forgiven,
Thanking and Praising Him for every gift given.
poem by Mel Patterson
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PINK and GOLD Ribbons
These are the thoughts as my eyes see
Pink and gold ribbons calling me.
In the early morning rising I run to my window
And peer toward the far horizon
To see ribbons in the sky delighting my eye,
Bands of pink outlining oak and evergreen
This is the prettiest sight I've ever seen.
The pink precedes golden ribbons now appearing
Stretching wider into bands of color nearing
The onset of the sun so big, bright and beautiful
In daily praise and thanksgiving I am dutiful.
On a cloud-filled morning, no sun adorning
I know far above the gray and stormy cloud
Are angels in joyful chorus aloud
Waiting for me to join in their singing
And my own soul finds itself winging
Through the clouds, through pink ribbons
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poem by Mel Patterson
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A Child Needs.........
We are products of our environment it is said
and from birth through life we are variously led
From infancy to childhood others are in charge
When you are little, others seem rather large.
A child needs benevolent and respectful care
As well as being taught to love and play fair.
If a child is taught to respect God and others
He will love himself and likewise his brothers.
Whether our childhood was nurturing or not
Comes the time when we must deal with our lot
The decisions we make will color our future
And show what we're made of as we mature.
If victory is to be won, it's upon God we trust
Knowing, loving and serving Him well we must.
Getting through life is hard enough we all know
Traveling with the Lord is the only sure way to go.
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poem by Mel Patterson
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Got Chocolate?
Snowflakes the size of marshmallows fall to the earth;
Frosty icy winds play havoc with her red curly hair.
She delights in frolicking in snow so deep;
Bundled up in bright green coat and leggings,
pink hat, scarf and gloves
she brightens up the gray day.
Grandpa dons his own snow gear, dark brown coat,
black ear muffs, gloves and red Santa hat;
shovel in hand he begins to clear the path
when 'she' playfully jumps into it re-snowing it
to Grandpa's chagrin as he grins
pretending to be annoyed.
but he re-shovels again with great patience.
The worst of the storm has passed. The white stuff
is the perfect setting this day, this Christmas Eve.
Cold, wet and tired Grandpa and granddaughter
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poem by Mel Patterson
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