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Posts Tagged ‘soul’

SLICES OF MY LIFE

In a journal on my table
Beside my favorite pen
You will find revealing verses
Where only lines had been

I’ve filled the pages with the muse
That touches deep inside
And you can read what’s written there
When the book is opened wide

There is verse about my children
And some about my mate
There are even odes about my pets
And one about my weight

There are lines about my garden
And butterflies and birds
Deep rhymes about life’s symphony
In most expressive words

There’s muse about the sun and rain
And also winter’s snow
A poem about a rainbow’s arch
With its translucent glow

A sequined sky and harvest moon
That makes the heavens shine
And one about our U.S. flag . . .
All, from this heart of mine

God’s blessings fill some pages
And this is not a whim
For I would not be writing now
Without this gift from Him

This well-worn journal lying here
Fulfills a pleasant role
Recording slices from my life
From my heart and soul

10/24/01 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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My Friend, Colleen

You Are A Poem

If I could make my life a poem,
There’d be a verse for you
Because you are a special friend,
With credits overdue.

And I think YOU are a poem, my friend;
I see it many times.
There’s beauty in your heart and soul,
One finds in songs and rhymes.

2/25/99 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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MY PERIPHERY

I have a pen in every room
And sometimes two or three
Because the poet in my soul
At times needs setting free

Whenever I am struck by muse
I jot it down in haste
Before another thought pops in
And one might go to waste

But it is pens I’m not without
No paper is in sight
So I use almost anything
When it is time to write

There’s notes I’ve made on magazines
On grocery bags and such
And toilet tissue’s not exempt
But truthfully, not too much

There’s notes on every box in sight
And on a pillow case
I even wrote above my knee . . .
I write where I find space

You’ll find these notes within my poems
Except the one on knee
I lost it in the shower stall
Which I did not foresee

For years that poet in my soul
Hid shyly deep within
But now with notes on everything
I wear that poet skin

And that is why I jot thoughts down . . .
To set that poet free
And use such muse that fits a poem
In my periphery

8/28/00 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

4’th … Indiana NPD – 2000

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MOTHER’S PORTRAIT
(For my mother, Leah DeWitt)

I saw your portrait yesterday
The likeness, Mom, is true
But paint applied to canvas square
Can’t truly depict you

It doesn’t show the attributes
That I call Mom’s Bouquet
It doesn’t show the guidance
That shaped my life each day
It doesn’t show the things you taught
As mind and body grew
When you ingrained within my soul
The proper things to do
Nor show your smile when life seemed frowns
At least I see not how
Or the magic healing in your hands
When placed upon my brow

Brushes and paint cannot convey
The patience always shown
Nor selflessness indulged on all
For which you were well known

It doesn’t show the way you shared
My many joys and woes
Or how you taught me ways to cope
With life’s big highs and lows
It certainly doesn’t capture
The marvel that was you
For surface beauty’s all one sees
Since that’s what portraits do
So, though I hang your likeness, Mom
It’s just a piece of art
And the real you, described herein
Is etched upon my heart

It’s a portrait of perfection
I wish the world could see
Throughout the years, you’ve always been
Just what a Mom should be

9/26/90 Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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    GOD’S GREAT TAPESTRY

 

My small grandchild came to me

          And leaning up against my knee

Asked, what happens when you die?

          And then, before I gave reply,

 

Why can’t everyone walk, like me?

          Why can’t some people hear or see?

How is it that our God’s the same,

          But religions have a different name?

 

Why do people fuss and fight?

          How come he’s black and I am white?

If I’m happy, why isn’t he?

          Why doesn’t he have as much as me?

 

Hush, Dear Child, and listen here.

      I don’t know it all I fear,

But I will undertake the task

          To answer most of what you ask.

 

I guess it’s hard to understand

          Life’s complexities in our land.

In order to see, you will be wise

          To view with heart, instead of eyes.

 

God made man from dust, you know

          And all men back to dust must go

But death just means this body’s gone.

          Our Soul’s new body will live on.

 

This earth is just a stepping-stone

          On the way to the Heavenly Throne,

And if we follow God’s command

          We’ll all meet in the Promised Land.

 

We’ll pass from earth, to Heaven’s Gate,

          Where such as you need not wait,

For it’s opened wide to let you in,

          And also others cleansed of sin.

 

The Angels sing to welcome you

          Those gone before, join in, too

Happiness shines on every face

          When standing at the Throne Of Grace.

 

We’ll have new bodies, free of pain

          It’s Heaven’s gift that each will gain

I truly hope I’ve made it clear

          That death is not a thing to fear

 

Now for the rest you asked of me

          Please listen very carefully

With open mind and open heart

          And learn from what I may impart

 

Characteristics of humanity

          Compare to a garden’s variety

There’s colorful flowers on display

          And some of each, make a great bouquet

 

The blend appeals because of hue

          And life should be that way, too

Think how dull the world would be

          If all were just like you and me

 

For color of skin, eyes, and hair

          Are just facets of the shell we wear

And underneath, I make this claim

          All of us are just the same

 

You mustn’t let trouble you

          Someone else’s different hue

Judge man for what he is inside

          For prejudice is just false pride

 

You asked about man’s belief

          I’ll tell you this, with much relief

It matters not the given name

          ‘Most everyone’s God is the same

 

To you it may seem rather strange

          But different viewpoints, cause such change

And that is how Faiths saw their birth

          In different areas on this earth

 

Now for your questions on one’s health

          Also those on poverty and wealth

The hurtful side does seem unfair

          Because these things are hard to bear

 

But perhaps it’s God’s ultimate goal

          That this should refine a person’s Soul

And if they rise above their test

          I’m sure that they are truly blessed

 

Now, those who choose to fuss and fight

          Haven’t learned to love just right

They’re filled with anger, and also hate

          But they can change, it’s never too late

 

Though hard it is, to change one’s way

          It should be done without delay

Forgive and forget ills done to you

          And give much love and kindness, too

 

Sometime in our journey of life

          We meet with sorrow and deal with strife

And sadness comes from our dismay

          But just ’til the pain goes away

 

For happiness is a state of mind

          And really not so hard to find

Look Up (not down) – ahead (not back)

          It’s easy, once you get the knack

 

One last word I give, my Dear

          A quote, to help you conquer fear

‘You would not see the rainbow’s hue

          Without the storm that frightened you’

 

Your questions were deep, for one so small

          And I told you, child, I know not all

But I did my best to answer true

          All of the questions troubling you

 

And things that I’ve related here

          Should give you understanding, Dear

It’s been His plan through history . . .

          We’re threads in GOD’S GREAT TAPESTRY

 

 

12/19/99            Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Whispers in my Mind

WHISPERS IN MY MIND

 

I heard her rocker creak today,

But not a soul was there.

The wind had rocked her chair.

Sometimes I think I hear her pray,

And I am sad to find,

Just whispers in my mind;

Gems my memory tucked away.

 

9/4/95          Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Setting the Poet Free

SETTING THE POET FREE

 

I have a pen in every room

And sometimes two or three

Because the poet in my soul

At times needs setting free

 

Whenever I am struck by muse

I jot it down in haste

Before another thought pops in

And one might go to waste

 

But it is pens I’m not without

No paper is in sight

So I use almost anything

When it is time to write

 

There’s notes on every box in sight

And on a pillow case

I even wrote above my knee…

I write where I find space

 

You’ll find these notes within my poems

Except the one on knee

I lost it in the shower stall

Which I did not foresee

 

For years that poet in my soul

Hid shyly deep within

But now with notes on everything

I wear that poet skin

 

And that is why I jot thoughts down …

To set that poet free

And use such muse that fits a poem

In my periphery

 

Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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