1972
Yellow daisy in the meadow standing all alone.
I feel I want to pick you and take you with me home.
I'd feel your sun-warmed beauty as I take you in my hand
But then, this field less beautiful would be upon the land.
Resurrections Splendor
We all are simple caterpillars
Groping on the Earth.
Trying hard to progress
Since our mortal birth.
And when our numbered day has come
The spent life of a bloom,
Our caterpillar body
Is laid in it's cocoon.
And onward to the heavens
In the spirit world we labor
Anxiously awaiting
Resurrections splendor.
Great surprise awaits us
When this Simple body dies.
In resurrection we'll discover
We've been turned to butterflies!
Go-Round-Rut (describing what a rut feels like)
I used to ride the Merry-go-round,
and I was free!
We went up and down. Until
One day the horses stopped!
And then they only went round and round.
Round and round upon the ground until
A rut began to grow. And horses went more slow.
But still around down deeper in the ground until
They stopped.
I had no where to go.
We were down too low.
The rut was made -
The horses old and me their slave.
The rut my grave.
Though still alive I did not live.
The rut, my master, did.
1983
I love to walk in the morning sun
And through the meadow I love to run.
To saunter through the grass bare foot
And every flower to smell and look.
I love to pretend I'm a bird on the wing,
to fly through the air and then come down and sing.
I'm grateful for this time of year when Jesus rose, our Savior dear.
He gave to us Eternal Life and a fine example for all to strive.
He showed to us the way to go and taught us things we need to know
to reach the highest place of glory when we end our Earth life story.
I'm grateful for the Savior dear who taught the plan of life so dear.
I wish to do the best I can to carry on this Earthly plan.
And I look forward to that day The Savior comes again to stay.
1989
My mother's purse is handy when we all get in the car.
It's always clean and neat until we drive somewhere real far.
It then becomes a lunch bag for my sister and for me,
And afterwards a garbage bag so that the car stays clean.
My mother's purse holds tissue in case we have to sneeze,
Ribbons from our pony tails and Band-Aids for our knees.
When we're driving into town a mail pouch it becomes.
Then when we take the mail out brother looks for bubble gum.
When it's time to go to church a bank it seems to be,
As all our tithing envelopes are placed within neatly.
Someday I'll have a handy purse, I hope just like my Mom's,
With all it's varied contents when my children come along!
1989
Living Ancestors
They are not dead. No one ever really dies. Their body's in the ground but they're living in the skies.
In the heavens where we came from is where they now reside, with their choicest friends & loved ones gathered close and at their side.
They are serving still the Lord as they always did on Earth and anxiously await our passing as they once looked forth our birth.
They greeted us on Earth when mortal like we entered in and they'll greet us in the heavens when immortality begins.
When we all join hands again in the Eternal world together It will be a glorious, happiest day that will stay forever and ever.
(written when Grandma Pickett died)
1997
How wonderful it is when the Lord takes your hand and leads you along through life.
How beautiful it is when with Him you can stand even through all the troubles and strife.
How peaceful it is when you notice He's there. No matter what happens, you know that He cares.
The path He has marked. Directions are clear to eyes that can see and ears that can hear,
'till the Light grows brighter as closer we come
To the Home of our Father and our Home of the Son.
