A shabby opaque stone, rough, dull and grey,
Hidden behind the veils, out of the way,
No sparkle bright, nor any fancy shine ,
But a rugged rock of an olden time.
With patience, diligence and loving hand,
A craftsman with skill, carves across the land
And comes out with a villege beauty so dear,
A shining diamond for all to cheer.
Written: May 31st, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
************
m
o
o
n l~~a
l on the
i k~~e
g
h
t
silver r~i~p~p~l~e~s tell
their tale ~
night w
i
n
d hums a*l*o*n*g
Geppetto was tired of being without a son.
He had dreamed of a son all his life
It had not happened for him and his wife
A son? Yes, a son. Geppetto really wanted one.
In a dream he thought of carving his own.
One with scruples, not an Al Capone.
He would name his son Pinocchio.
And train him the ways that he must go.
Geppetto began work on his son that day.
He felt excited as he carved his oak wood away.
Pinocchio was a handsome puppet, not a toy.
Geppetto dreamed he might become a real boy.
IT'S WORTH IT ALL
He carves and sands where I am rough
And smooths those corners down
And “ouch” it often hurts, I say
As His tools go all around
And yet I know that when He's through
No more a 'plaint I'll make
E'n though it may hurt at times
I know it's for my sake
Sometimes if I had tried to live
In a much more careful way
This process would be easier
On the life I live today
Sometimes we learn so very slow
God's righteous ways are best
His love will not give up on us
If we in His arms will rest
So let the process continue on
Until that glorious day
He's made a perfect gem of me
And in His arms I'll stay
Copyright, Kathryn Search
The tombstone carves itself
When you are ready to embark
On an underground journey
Where your body fades
But your soul survives
Your name is being spelled out
In charming calligraphy
And as the gravestone crafts 2005
You are incapacitated with fatality
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