First Encounters
THE FIRST ENCOUNTER
That first encounter
Warmth wrapped around my virgin body
Dampness enveloping me
Surrounding me as I come up for air
Sensually seeping inside me as I sink
Once more into this moist
oblivion
Undressing me with gentle caresses
Which empower me to once again push
Up to the surface
And with long strides pull
Myself to the side of the
winterpool
Lifting my moist body into
The cold winter air
Wrapping myself in a terry robe of warmth
And scurrying across the cold concrete
To the crackling warmth of the
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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To Every Fallen Soldier
-- * TO EVERY FALLEN SOLDIER * --
The honor of the Country
Given to a Hero true.
This honorable young soldier
Who died for me and you.
To every fallen soldier
No matter, heritage or creed,
Who fought bravely for country
Due to someone else's greed.
Returned in flag draped coffin
No more laughter or joy to share.
A solemn trip into the prairie.....
A Spirit Crossing, there......
As Mothers weep in sorrow
Wives crying out in pain,
The earthly presence of this child
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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a Summer Day
--A SUMMER DAY--
The coolness of a Summer breeze
On the hottest of Summer days
The briskness of a trickling brook
Beneath this steamy haze.
The comfort of a shady tree
With a book propped on my knee.
The whisper of a Father's word
So gently sent to me.
I love this time when none can see
Away from all the world
When you send each breeze to touch my cheek
And my life is now unfurled.
When mysteries that I've kept inside
Can be released to You
And all those worries that I hide
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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eight Sisters
--EIGHT SISTERS--
When I was very little
And Mama's sisters gathered round
All the serious talk would go
As joyous laughter would resound.
With every woman talking
Loud laughter would erupt....
All the men would run for quiet
When their ears had had enough.
I'm not sure where it came from
For their parents, I didn't know,
But I was very happy
With their joyous laughter show.
And now those laughs are quiet
As all eight sisters now have passed,
But I bet God was really smiling
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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the Joy Of Music
-THE JOY OF MUSIC -
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praise
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along that joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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The Lonely Willow Tree
THAT LONELY WILLOW TREE
God made this Earth,
The Sun... The Air.
He placed it all
Into Man's care.
On it He placed
Flowers and trees
In beautiful colors,
Man's eyes to please.
But when He thought
His work was done,
He added this....
A tree.....Just one.
He planted here
A Willow Tree,
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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Summers Muse
The billow of the whitest clouds
Like puffs of smoke on high
Floating e're so slowly
Across the azure sky.
So many, I can't count them,
As I lie here looking up
Such blessings, God has given,
As He fills my empty cup.
The songs of birds now flying
As Summer comes once more
The skies now filled with wings
As, in flight, they gently soar.
So blessed Summer come now
And warm my heart so cold
Light the inspiration in me
And again my life enfold.
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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Joy Of Music
THE JOY OF MUSIC
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praises
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along this joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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God Reaches Out
GOD REACHES OUT
I know you're feeling very down
And I wish you weren't sad.
There are so many things around
That make us feel so bad.
But when you awake in the morning
To the chirping of a bird,
Just remember that may be God,
Whose singing you have heard.
And when you walk into a store
And a beggar there you see,
Just remember, that sad face,
The face of God, may be.
And when a child smiles up at you
With innocence in their eye,
Just remember that each day
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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the Irish Wedding Knot
-THE IRISH WEDDING KNOT-
Have you ever seen a Wedding Knot
Carved from one piece of wood,
Given to an Irish Bride
Before the alter where they stood.
The one I have is walnut
Made by a loving hand.
It was passed down to my father
Just as his mother planned.
A marriage of a lifetime
Carved into that little knot.
A tiny little wooden cage...
Wooden ball within the slot.
That wooden ball just stays there
sliding 'round inside that cage,
Never will it be removed...
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poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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