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  • mirakee_writer 45w

    We can move on

    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    Our friendship

    I met you as a stranger, then took you as my friend.
    Our friendship is something that will never end.
    When I was in darkness that needed some light,
    You came to me and hugged me tight.

    You took my hands and dried my tears.
    You woke me up to end my fears.
    You took my hand and made me see
    That God has a special plan for me.

    You helped me laugh
    When I was sad.
    You made me tough
    When I felt bad.

    Our friendship made me see the light.
    Our friendship showed to me what was right.
    I hope our friendship will never bend.
    I hope our friendship will never end.
    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    Keepsake

    One day my dad was hunting, from his favorite hunting stand;
    'Twas a giant Oak with perfect limbs, under which two deer trails ran.
    Now this favorite spot of Daddy's was as unique as it could be,
    'cause a lightning bolt had burned a giant hole down through that tree.

    As he double checked his deer tags, as he did quite frequently,
    he accidently dropped his wallet down the hole in that old tree.
    Well, his family hunted from that tree ever since they'd been around,
    And there was no way on God's green earth he'd ever cut it down.

    That Oak tree was my "learning stool" as dad was teaching me,
    and most of what I learned 'bout deer was right there in that tree.
    And I finally took my own first buck, right there from that old stand;
    with Daddy sitting next to me to calm my nervous hands.

    "I've taught you everything I know," Dad proudly said to me;
    "Someday we'll bring my grandson here, and teach him in this tree".
    Well, I laughed and poked him on the arm; hell, I was just a kid,
    But Daddy made me feel real good, somehow he always did.

    Well, we shared some twenty seasons, and we watched some good bucks grow,
    But unlike that mighty old Oak tree, on my dad those seasons showed.
    Soon he'd grown too old to really hunt, still he'd sit with me in that stand,
    and it was my turn to hold and steady the shaking in Daddy's hands.

    Then he died at the end of that season, ten years too soon to see
    The grandson that he'd dreamed about get to hunt from that old tree.
    And now it's opening morning, on my son's first whitetail hunt;
    I'm sitting beside him in "Grandpa's Tree" 'cause we both knew that's what he would want.

    Now I'd seen this scene from both sides of that limb, and it happened exactly the same;
    we heard one coming, I steadied his hands, and here that old buck came.
    He handled it just perfect; his Grandpa would've been proud,
    I shook his hand and wiped a tear and looked up at the clouds.

    Then we hung his deer right from our stand, and I took a Polaroid shot;
    And I wanted so badly for Daddy to see the buck that his grandson got.
    Then as I watched that picture develop in my hands,
    I felt a breeze and heard a gentle rustling near that stand.

    Then a little stronger gust of wind whipped the picture from my hand
    and carried it briskly into that tree, above the old deer stand.

    Well, my son said he'd go get it, but I told him "never mind."
    We'd take a few more later, but let's leave that one behind.
    'Cause he could've looked forever, but I knew where it would be,
    Tucked safely in Dad's wallet, down the hole in that old tree.

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    You are better than you know yourself

    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    Heart over matter

    When your heart suddenly feels
    light, excited, at ease.
    When you feel like your heart just knows what to do
    and your worries are far from your mind as are you.

    You know that your mind will start chasing,
    racing to hold down your heart.
    After all, it is there to protect it,
    ever from breaking apart.

    But in order to keep your heart happy,
    like a child, you must soften your hold.
    You must let it run free for a while,
    follow and see what unfolds.

    Your heart is stronger than what you would think,
    and recovers at much greater speed,
    so please just try, every once in a while,
    to give it the freedom it needs.

    Believe in your heart and embrace it,
    and give it all that you've got.
    Because whether it turns for the best or the worse,
    you'll be happy more often than not.
    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    Take my hand and never let go

    You took my hand and showed me the way,
    when I was blinded by unfortunate fate.
    You took my hand and prayed with me,
    while my troubles quickly faded away.

    You took my hand and dried my tears,
    when I cried over it all.
    You took my hand and helped me understand,
    when I questioned our Almighty One.

    You took my hand and made me promise,
    I'd never walk alone again.
    You took my hand and mended my friendship,
    when I was too stubborn to say anything.

    You took my hand and made me laugh,
    when we remembered our funny mistakes.
    You took my hand and made me see,
    that God has a special plan for me.

    Now take my hand and never let go,
    because our friendship means more than you'll ever know!!
    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    What I love about you

    The sparkle in your eye,
    The warmth of your skin,
    Your breath on my neck
    That shakes me within.

    The touch of your hand,
    The smell of your hair,
    The naughtiness in your smile,
    That strength in your stare.

    Your kiss on my lips,
    Your body near mine,
    The stroke of your touch,
    Makes everything feel fine.

    The compassion in your touch,
    The power in your face,
    The beating of your heart,
    That we may never end our embrace.

    The beauty of your kiss,
    And that magic in your touch.
    It is for all these reasons and more
    Why I love you so much...
    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    You can achieve reputations!

    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    Footsteps of Angels

    When the hours of Day are numbered,
    And the voices of the Night
    Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
    To a holy, calm delight;

    Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
    And, like phantoms grim and tall,
    Shadows from the fitful firelight
    Dance upon the parlor wall;

    Then the forms of the departed
    Enter at the open door;
    The beloved, the true-hearted,
    Come to visit me once more;

    He, the young and strong, who cherished
    Noble longings for the strife,
    By the roadside fell and perished,
    Weary with the march of life!

    They, the holy ones and weakly,
    Who the cross of suffering bore,
    Folded their pale hands so meekly,
    Spake with us on earth no more!

    And with them the Being Beauteous,
    Who unto my youth was given,
    More than all things else to love me,
    And is now a saint in heaven.

    With a slow and noiseless footstep
    Comes that messenger divine,
    Takes the vacant chair beside me,
    Lays her gentle hand in mine.

    And she sits and gazes at me
    With those deep and tender eyes,
    Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
    Looking downward from the skies.

    Uttered not, yet comprehended,
    Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
    Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
    Breathing from her lips of air.

    Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,
    All my fears are laid aside,
    If I but remember only
    Such as these have lived and died!
    ©mirakee_writer

  • mirakee_writer 45w

    A Gleam of Sunshine

    This is the place. Stand still, my steed,
    Let me review the scene,
    And summon from the shadowy Past.
    The forms that once have been.

    The Past and Present here unite.
    Beneath Time's flowing tide,
    Like footprints hidden by a brook,
    But seen on either side.

    Here runs the highway to the town;
    There the green lane descends,
    Through which I walked to church with thee,
    O gentlest of my friends!

    The shadow of the linden-trees
    Lay moving on the grass;
    Between them and the moving boughs,
    A shadow, thou didst pass.

    Thy dress was like the lilies,
    And thy heart as pure as they:
    One of God's holy messengers.
    Did walk with me that day.

    I saw the branches of the trees
    Bend down thy touch to meet,
    The clover-blossoms in the grass
    Rise up to kiss thy feet,

    "Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,
    Of earth and folly born!"
    Solemnly sang the village choir
    On that sweet Sabbath morn.

    Through the closed blinds the golden sun
    Poured in a dusty beam,
    Like the celestial ladder seen.
    By Jacob in his dream.

    And ever and anon, the wind,
    Sweet-scented with the hay,
    Turned over the hymn-book's fluttering leaves
    That on the window lay.

    Long was the good man's sermon,
    Yet it seemed not so to me;
    For he spoke of Ruth the beautiful,
    And still I thought of thee.

    Long was the prayer he uttered,
    Yet it seemed not so to me;
    For in my heart I prayed with him,
    And still I thought of thee.

    But now, alas! the place seems changed;
    Thou art no longer here:
    Part of the sunshine of the scene
    With thee did disappear.

    Though thoughts, deep-rooted in my heart,
    Like pine-trees dark and high,
    Subdue the light of noon, and breathe
    A low and ceaseless sigh;

    This memory brightens over the past,
    As when the sun, concealed.
    Behind some cloud that near us hangs.
    Shines on a distant field.
    ©mirakee_writer