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Candle In The Window
Each day and night the candle burns,
To light your way back home,
To those who love and miss you,
From our hearts you’ve never roamed.
The glow of its light, caresses your face,
In the picture on the wall,
I clearly remember the day you stood proud,
As you answered our country’s call.
That day, I was mesmerized,
Overcome by bittersweet joy,
This strong, handsome man standing before me,
Where did the time go? Is this is my little boy?
I can still see your smile and the sparkle in your eyes,
As you gathered your gear and hurried,
I heard the tender control of your voice as you said,
I love you, mom...now, don’t worry.”
The years pass slow and the days are long,
Since our last kiss and embrace,
Oh, God, how I ache,
To gaze in your eyes and gently touch your face.
I’ll never stop searching or praying for you,
And the countless others that share your plight,
I swear, I shall be a thorn to those in power,
Until this wrong is made right.
For home is where you should be, and home is where you are not,
Although this is a hard and long quest,
Nothing - not even this - is impossible,
And one day, on American soil you shall walk or rest.
And so, my love, until we meet in heaven,
Know I’m with you and so many care,
But, if you need me, just close your eyes,
Reach for me, I promise, I’ll be there.
For, each day and night the candle burns,
To light your way back home,
To those who love and miss you,
From our hearts you’ve never roamed.
An Original Poem
By: A Mom
Copyright © 2000 Skyliner Fan
All Rights Reserved
"Candle In The Window"
Has Been Published
With This Webmistress' Permission
In The May 2001 Issue Of
"Compassionate Friends Newsletter"
Our Heartfelt Thanks Go Out To
Linda
And The Compassionate Friends Staff.
Please Visit Linda's Wonderful Site.
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Until We Meet Again
In Memory Of Pat
I will remember your contagious smile,
Your deep voice and robust laugh;
I will remember our talks,
your mischievous wink,
And some dreams that will never come to pass.
I will see your eyes in blue skies,
I will see your smile in the sunshine;
As soft breezes caress my face,
I will feel your warmth.
I will remember a gentle giant
whose wonder emanated from
integrity and a heart of gold.
I will remember you, my dear friend,
You are not gone, you live in my heart;
It's not good bye....it's until we meet again.
Vaya Con Dios
~~~~~
I wrote this for my dear friend, Pat,
who passed over suddenly on June 2, 2001.
I wonder if this man knew he was loved
by, and touched, so many people during his brief
walk on this earth.
Pat's passing was another wake-up call
as to how short life is,
how we take so much for granted,
and how important it is to validate
those we love and hold dear everyday.
The last memories I will always have of Pat
are his bright, beautiful blue eyes, his huge grin,
and as we hugged, his last words to me,
"Have a great weekend. See ya Monday."
This is also for Pat's brothers,
"my" John and Jeff,
who know I love them, but
will never know how deep is my love.
There is a huge void in our lives now, and
I know, in time, I will heal.
I also know, it's never goodbye...
it's until we meet again.
Vaya Con Dios
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If I Had My Life To Live Over
Erma Bombeck was, and shall remain,
one of my favorite authors. Her writings and wit
have touched many readers and she is missed.
Our only consolation is that
she continues to live via her writings.
This was written by Erma Bombeck
after her learning of her terminal cancer.
~~~
If I Had My Life To Live Over
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over for dinner
even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the "GOOD"
living room and worried much less about
the dirt when someone wanted to light
a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen
to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows
be rolled up on a summer day because
my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle
sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children
and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while
watching television and more while watching life.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick
instead of pretending the earth would go into
a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would never have bought anything
just because it was practical,
wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed
to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months
of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment
realizing that the wonderment growing
inside me was the only chance in life to
assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously,
I would never have said,
"Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's"
and more "I'm sorry's" ....but mostly,
given another shot at life,
I would seize every minute,
look at it and really see it,
live it, and never look back.
Erma Bombeck
1927 - 1996
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How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth
and height my soul can reach,
when feeling out of sight for the ends
of Being an ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
with my lost saints,
I love thee with the breath,
smiles, tears, of all my life!
And, if God chooses,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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You're OK
If I do not want what you want,
please try not to tell me
that my want is wrong.
Or, if I believe other than you,
at least pause before you correct my view.
Or, if my emotion is less than yours,
or more, given the same circumstances,
try not to ask me to feel
more strongly or weakly.
Or, if I act, or fail to act,
in the manner of your design
for action, let me be.
I do not, for the moment at least,
ask you to understand me - That will
come only when you are willing
to give up changing me into
a copy of you.
I may be your spouse, your parent,
your offspring, your friend,
or your colleague. If you will allow
me any of my own wants, or emotions,
or beliefs, or actions, then
you open yourself, so that some day
these ways of mine might not seem
so wrong, and might finally appear
to you as right...for me.
Not that you embrace my ways
as right for you, but that you are
no longer irritated or disappointed with me
for my seeming waywardness.
And, in understanding me, you might
come to prize my differences from you,
and far from seeking to change me,
preserve and even nurture those differences.
Author Unknown
(c) Pat Lynch, 2001. All rights reserved
Printable With Disclaimer
From "Out of the Box"
a weekly newsletter by Pat Lynch
(602) 689-7904 or patlynch@potential.com
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When You Thought I Wasn't Looking
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and
I immediately wanted to paint another one.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you feed a stray cat, and
I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you make my favorite cake for me and
I learned that the little things can
be the special things in life.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I heard you say a prayer, and
I knew there is a God I could always talk to and
I learned to trust in God.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick,
and I learned that we all have to help
take care of each other.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you give of your time and money to help people
who had nothing and I learned that those who have
something should give to those who don't.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I felt you kiss me good night and I felt loved and safe.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it and
I learned we have to take care of what we are given.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw how you handled your responsibilities,
even when you didn't feel good and
I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw tears come from your eyes and
I learned that sometimes things hurt,
but it's all right to cry.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I saw that you cared and
I wanted to be everything that I could be.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know
to be a good and productive person when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking,
I looked at you and wanted to say,
"Thanks for all the things I saw
when you thought I wasn't looking."
Author Unknown
Our children are watching us when
we think they aren't looking.
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Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and
lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble;
it is a real possession
in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
And everywhere, life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrender the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit
to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann (c. 1927)
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Maya Angeloue
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Beautiful Dreamer
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Stephen Foster
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There Be None of Beauty's Daughters
There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like Thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me.
When, as if its sound were causing,
The charméd ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming,
And the lull'd winds seem dreaming.
And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep,
Whose breast is gently heaving,
As an infant's asleep.
So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
Lord Byron
(1788-1824)
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