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By the Bushel
by louis gander Two weeks and a day since mom passed away. Tomorrow will be yet another. Tears run down my cheeks each time someone speaks and mentions my dear ol' mother. For many long years she shed many tears for the lost and the lame and the weak. And sitting beside, I would see them in stride zig-zag down her long wrinkled cheek. I can't change the facts and cannot relax understanding that life must go on. As long as I'm living, I must be forgiving and add to what mom built upon. Before laid to rest, my mom did her best. She loved God with all of her heart. And right now she's givin' her love there in Heaven. What time should the rest of us start? To save someone's soul was her greatest goal. The joy on her face would abound. She wasn't contented until friends repented and peace everlasting was found. My mom, she was special. She filled by the bushel, such love, her incessant desire. Though it overflowed, her love never slowed as she piled it higher and higher. Copyright 2021 by louis gander. Poetry for sermons, story poems and more... If you love story poems, then you'll love ganderpoems.org / no ads, no sign-up, no tracking. Just free inspirational poetry. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |