Poetry
By Eurdis Nail Greer
Omniscience
I went to Your house today;
It was Mother's Day.
I sat on a pew with my aged mother
and my not-so-aged grandson.
My daughter sat beside me;
Her mind intent on the speaker,
Her eyes intent on her son, not that he noticed.
I'll confess, I didn't hear much that was said,
But I think you would approve of what my spirit felt.
I don't remember the exact words of the prayer,
But I remember a wide-eyed look of innocence
and the feel of a little hand slipping into mine.
It was a day I'll never forget.
You knew it would be, didn't You?
Dear Lord,
There's no use trying to figure out why that snake bit my grandson. Already I've heard a thousand reasons...each one the authority on it. Those who couldn't think of a reason, put it on You.
I just want to thank you for getting him well, for keeping him from being too sick. We could tell it was a bad one from the marks on his arms and all that swelling. He said to thank you for him, too. Right now, he thinks he may never swim in Strong River again. At first, his mama wanted to drain it dry and kill every snake there, but that's because she was scared and worried. She knows now there was a reason.
There's always a reason.
I don't know what it was.
I just know it tendered my heart towards him a little more.
It tendered my heart towards You, too.
Hi-ho Silver
He whispered in the pony's ear
and calmed the nervous beast.
He slid into the saddle
with a cowboy's practiced ease.
He spurred his mount, then shouted "Whoa!",
his countenance chagrined.
He leaned his body to the side and
slipped a quarter in.
A Grandma’s Wish
I have a little grandson-(at least I think I do.)
He has the biggest, brightest eyes-
(I guess they are still blue.)
He uses big important words-
By now he knows some more.
(I know I'd like to see him
running up to my front door!)
I guess his blond hair still is straight
And needs a little trim.
I guess by now that space filled up
Where that first tooth had been.
And those long jeans that dragged the floor
Are way past ankle high-
(I wish I could pick up the phone
and talk to him awhile.)
I see him in his desk at school,
Back straight, head held high.
I see him rise to say the pledge,
That twinkle in his eye.
I see him reading, writing, studying each day,
(I also picture him at recess-first one out to play.)
I wish that I could be the one
To meet his bus each day
Give him milk and cookies
Watch him wile his time away.
(I wish my grandson lived next door
and not so far away.)
Future Stars
Some are short
Some are tall
Some you hardly see at all.
Wide-legged shorts on knobby limbs,
Long-tailed shirts for "Her and Him",
Wet cowlicks and ponytails
Decorate these boys and girls.
Anxious parents-one and all-
Come to watch their kids play ball.