With water
rising in the creek,
The lawn’s a
soggy mess,
The grass is
growing near knee deep,
Too tall I
must confess.
And as the
storms go rolling through,
Each day a
little more
It makes you
wonder if God plans
For what we
have in store.
To build an
ark or just a raft
Goes flashing
through my mind
But soon
enough the rain will end
And dryness
we will find
Invades the
land as sun beats down
To bring us
summer heat,
Humidity will
start to rise -
Inside we
will retreat
It’s hard to
think not long ago
There was no
AC cool
We had to
make a window fan
A breeze
upon a stool.
A shady tree
was all we had,
Perhaps a
chip of ice,
A watermelon
in a stream
Brought us a
chilly slice.
And then at
night the heat would grow
As we lay on
the bed
And hoped a
morning breeze would blow
Relief from
heat we’d dread.
The “good
old days” we soon forget
Were never
quite so good,
Our memories
begin to fade
Our days
misunderstood.
The good old
days were good because
Of people
who were there,
They shared
events that filled each day
Their love
and joy to share,
What lies
ahead are more good days
When lived
with faith’s release
For goodness
lies within the soul
A gift of
God’s sure …
Peace,
Alex
