Site hosted by Build your free website today!


This page is dedicated to my mother who I lost many years ago,
And whose love and memory is more precious than anyone can know.
To this day, I miss her more than anyone should feel,
and with an ache that time and tears just do not ever heal.

Theresa - 2000


Near a shady wall, a rose once grew,
Budded and blossomed in God's free light.
Watered and fed by morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.

As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall,
Through which there shone a beam of light.

Onward it crept with added strength,
With never a thought of fear or pride.
It followed the light through the crevice length,
And unfolded itself on the other side.

The light, the dew, the broadening view,
Were found the same as they were before.
And it lost itself in beauties new,
Breathing its fragrance more and more.

Shall claim of death cause us to grieve,
And make our courage faint or fall?
Nay, let us faith and hope receive,
The rose still grows beyond the wall.

Scattering fragrance far and wide,
Just as it did in days of yore.
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will forevermore.



Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.

Some say love it is a hunger
An endless, aching need.
I say love it is a flower
And you it's only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.

It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long.
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong.

Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring, becomes a rose.

In my Father's house are many mansions:
If it were not so, I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come again, and receive you unto myself;
That, where I am, there you may be also.

John 14:2-3

Lady In The Mirror

Who is this lady,
This woman I see,
As I look in the mirror,
Who is staring at me.

She seems so familiar,
Someone I should know,
Perhaps, someone, somewhere,
I knew long ago.

The gray in her hair,
The smile on her face,
The love in her heart,
I've seen that someplace.
Yes, now I know,
Of course I can see,
When I look at myself,
It's my mother I see.