Finally Friday Fun – SNOW

As I sit here in the snow and feel my tires spin beneath me
I am reminded of my life, which also spins beneath me.

Like the cold and falling snow which ruins my commute today
but is soon forgotten once it melts and runs away,

So too is my one small life which fills my hours with silly busy tasks
but will soon not be remembered once it stops and ceases being.

What remains when the warmth of sun returns and life comes to an end,
is only those few memories of things done with the snow and life we’re given.

Cafe Thursday – Another Poem

When I think of cafe Thursdays recently, it makes me long for a book and a quiet coffee shop.  So if you are able to enjoy a warm beverage, pull up a chair.  I got this poem today via email and it it brought a tear to my eye.  Enjoy.

THE GIRL I USED TO BE

She came tonight as I sat alone
The girl I used to be.
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye
And questioned reproachfully:

Have you forgotten the many plans
And hopes I had for you?
The great career, the splendid fame,
All the wonderful things to do?

Where is the mansion of stately height
With all its gardens rare?
The silken robes that I dreamed for you
And the jewels in your hair?

And as she spoke, I was very sad,
For I wanted her pleased with me,
This slender girl from the shadowy past,
The girl that I used to be.

So gently rising, I took her hand
And guided her up the stairs
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay,
Innocent, sweet, and fair.

And I told her that these are my only gems,
And precious they are to me;
That silken robes is my motherhood
Of costly simplicity.

And my mansion of stately height is love,
And the only career I know
Is serving each day in these sheltered walls
For the dear ones who come and go

And as I spoke to my shadowy guest,
She smiled through her tears at me.
And I saw the woman that I am now
Pleased the girl I used to be.

- Author unknown

In the Spirit of Cafe Thursday – A Poem

Most have probably already read this poem, but it was new to me today, and seems so incredibly relevant in this crazy political time.  Pastor Niemoller was an interesting figure of World War II and I encourage you to do your own reasearch if this time period or this poem so inspires you.  So grab a cupa joe or tea and have a read, then read again, then promise yourself you will speak up the next time you hear someone speaking ill of another group of people. . .hatred of one leads to hatred of all I think.

“First they came…” by Pastor Martin Niemoller

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I was not a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.