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Poems Page 2
THE RECORDING OF A CEMETERY
BY THELMA GREENE REAGAN

This is for all the people who give of
their time to record the information from
cemeteries before time takes away the
names of our Ancestors.

Today we walked where others walked
On a lonely, windswept hill;
Today we talked where other cried
For Loved Ones whose lives are stilled.

Today our hearts were touched
By graves of tiny babies;
Snatched from the arms of loving kin,
In the heartbreak of the ages.

Today we saw where the grandparents lay
In the last sleep of their time;
Lying under the trees and clouds -
Their beds kissed by the sun and wind.

Today we wondered about an unmarked spot;
Who lies beneath this hollowed ground?
Was it a babe, child, young or old?
No indication could be found.

Today we saw where Mom and Dad lay.
We had been here once before
On a day we'd all like to forget,
But will remember forever more.

Today we recorded for kith and kin
The graves of ancestors past;
To be preserved for generations hence,
A record we hope will last.

Cherish it, my friend; preserve it, my friend,
For stones sometimes crumble to dust
And generations of folks yet to come
Will be grateful for your trust.
This was found in the genealogy notes of My Mother in law,
Elsie Avis Lindow Card after her death. It must have been
special for her to have saved it with her genealogy things.

Elsie Avis Lindow Card June 7, 1912 - February 27, 1994

MAMA'S MAMAS DAY

"Mama's Mama, on a winter's day, milked the cows
and fed them hay; slopped the hogs, saddled
the mule and got the children off to school.
Did a washing, mopped the floors,
washed some windows and did some chores
Cooked a dish of home dried fruit,
pressed her husband's Sunday suit.
Swept the parlor, made the bed,
baked a dozen loaves of bread.
Split some firewood and lugged it in,
enough to fill the kitchen bin.
Cleaned the lamps and put oil in, stewed some apples
she thought might spoil. Churned the butter, baked
a cake, then exclaimed,
"For mercy's sake, the calves have got out of the pen."
Went out and chased them in again.
Gathered the eggs and locked the stable,
returned to the house and set the table,
cooked a supper that was delicious
and afterward washed all the dishes.
Fed the cat, sprinkled the clothes,
mended a basket full of hose.
Then she opened the organ and began to play -
"When you come to the end of a perfect day.!"
This Poem is for all my wonderful email friends who I have never met. Some
of whom we removed from that list when we went onvacation last summer!
You all mean a great deal to me. I always thought what good does getting
the internet do? Why pay 20 dollars a month for that? I would never get my
money's worth. Boy was I wrong! I have met so many wonderful people
while researching Roger's family that I could now never give it up.
Lord, Please Bless
My Computer
Every night I lie in bed,
This little prayer indside my head.
God bless my mom and dad,
And bless my children,
And take care of my spouse,
Who brings me so much joy...

But, there's just one more thing,
I wish that you would do,
If you don't mind my asking,
To bless my computer, too?

Now I know that it's not normal,
To bless a small machine,
But listen just a second,
And I'll try to explain...

You see, that little metal box,
Holds more than odds and ends.
Inside those small components,
Rest a hundred loving friends.

Some it's true I've never seen,
And most Iv'e never met...
I've never even shaken hands or,
Ever truly hugged, and yet...

I know for sure they love me,
By the kindess that they give,
And this little scrap of metal,
Is how I get to where they live.

By faith is how I know them,
Much the same as I know You.
I share their life, it brings them,
So if it's OK with you...

Just take an extra minute,
From your duties up above...
To bless this little hunk of steel,
That's filled with so much love.

So god, Please Bless My computer....

Author Unknown
Sent to me by Connie Weber
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