Cynthia, 14 marca 2012
I walked up to the door
an Angel I did see,
it greeted me into Heaven
I was with my family.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011
Cynthia, 14 marca 2012
He's tilled his soil through Spring
the farmer works really hard,
his horse works hard too
Winter snow, kept them on guard.
They waited all Winter
for the snow to melt,
so they could play in the dirt
the cold, they have felt.
The plough sits ready
to be hooked up to the horse,
there is more tilling to do
the farmer knows this, of course.
His rows are ready
to be planted with seeds,
planning for the Winter to come
the job is non-stop, yes indeed.
He waters his gardens
waiting for his crops to grow,
the Summer sun bakes the seeds
row after gently looked after row.
The farmer works hard every day
bringing in his harvest,
potatoes, cucumbers, onions
but the strawberries, are the best.
Copyright ©Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011
Cynthia, 14 marca 2012
He's tilled his soil through Spring
the farmer works really hard,
his horse works hard too
Winter snow, kept them on guard.
They waited all Winter
for the snow to melt,
so they could play in the dirt
the cold, they have felt.
The plough sits ready
to be hooked up to the horse,
there is more tilling to do
the farmer knows this, of course.
His rows are ready
to be planted with seeds,
planning for the Winter to come
the job is non-stop, yes indeed.
He waters his gardens
waiting for his crops to grow,
the Summer sun bakes the seeds
row after gently looked after row.
The farmer works hard every day
bringing in his harvest,
potatoes, cucumbers, onions
but the strawberries, are the best.
Copyright ©Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011
Cynthia, 8 marca 2012
The sky is a clear blue
leaves blow gently in the breeze,
Fall does take its toll
as leaves fall with ease.
Reds, oranges, yellows, and gold
leaves being blown everywhere,
cold days are certainly coming
the trees will be naked and bare.
Swaying in the wind
tree branches bend and bow,
not looking forward to the cold night
watching the sunset's evening glow.
Clouds of purples, pinks and reds
reflect the sun's radiant beams,
the moon is ready to smile
its light gives a brilliant gleam.
Autumn was slow to arrive
nights are starting to get cold,
I enjoy this time of year
looking at Autumn leaves of gold.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Oct.10/2011
Cynthia, 8 marca 2012
'Neath a weeping willow
stands a soldier's grave,
friends and family visit him
and thank him for the life he gave.
Every year that goes by
he is always remembered,
a poppy and wreath are carefully placed
questions are left unanswered.
Young ones ask questions
"Mommy and daddy, why is he dead?"
they try to reply, without crying
"Because of the bravery he lead."
The clouds grow dark
the air turns bitterly cold,
families remember the lives of loved ones
grin about the days of old.
The day is over now
families and friends, leave their loved one behind,
hoping that one day soon
peace, they will be able to find.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Nov.11/2006
Cynthia, 8 marca 2012
Some of them were too young
to remember what went on,
two and three years old
they just started the parent, child bond.
Others would remember that day
as they sat back and cried,
not growing up with their parent
for ten long years, they were denied.
Remembering those lost today
children's hearts, still torn in two,
looking at names engraved in stone
for the entire world to view.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Sept.11/2011
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