Thankful for today’s challenge which offered me the opportunity to write my first Terzanelle!
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Psalm 127:3 NKJV
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.
Psalm 139:14 NKJV
It’s some better today.
The pain in my heart has not gone way,
but the initial reaction to it all
has fallen away like a leaf in the fall.
All that lies now within my sight,
is a room that is empty,
but cheery and bright.
Void of his things, it sits there,
clean, and willing to be called “spare”.
This room that held him and all he held dear,
is with me still, though he is not near.
It helps that it has a different look,
for when I pass by I don’t see his favorite nook.
New pillows and coverlet are now upon the bed,
and the walls hold my pictures instead.
Traces of him are no longer found in there,
were it not so, it would be too much to bear.
I pray that someday, he will find his way,
and God will show him what to do and say,
To accomplish the purpose that God created him for,
Then the spare room will rejoice, and might hold him once more.
Leona J. Atkinson Posted 11-16-13 (Originally written May 27, 2011)
I gaze upon the ocean with her mighty roar,
while above me the eagle does soar.
A crab, which is a work of Your Own Hands,
is displayed for me upon the sands,
as I walk and think and pray,
I give You thanks for every day.
Thanks for the sun that shines and the moon’s fair light,
the trees that shade and the stars at night.
You made it all and called it good,
in six short days, as only You could.
As I look around me and bless Your name,
I must remember Your greatest acclaim,
the image of Yourself, created in others and me,
people, reflecting Your beauty for all to see.
Rhyme Leona J. Atkinson 11-05-13
June’s fourth is calling me to “Come!
Visit before this day is done,
See the beauty created for you,
Smell the flowers, enjoy the sun.”
Yet, indoor tasks are pressing me
To focus on the mundane.
What shall I do? A choice is due,
For this June day will not come again.
Leona J. Atkinson
Little yellow blossoms,
Often picked without much stem,
By little hands seeking flowers for Mother.
Children love you.
To them you are beautiful, and you’re free!
They can gather you and make crowns,
And chains, and rub you under their chins to see if they like butter.
How fun! I smile at the thought.
Gardeners and grown ups don’t like you much,
but on this Mother’s Day,
I wonder how many of you
Became yellow bouquets of love,
Gracing Mom’s dining room table,
Along with a homemade card.
Dandelions, I think God created you just for children.
Leona J. Atkinson 05-12-13
Celebrating God’s creation,
The beauty of this earth.
I give him thanks and glory ,
For all that He did birth.
Each thing created by His hand,
Is of great worth,
We need to care for and protect,
This place we call earth.
Leona J Atkinson