SEPARATED SPIRIT FROM THE MOUND OF DIRT AND CLAY---
As I walk across the silver sands, winds;
Blows throughout my daughterly brazen hair;
Whisk away seldom the sun dims, its grin;
Shining brightly those grinning light shines there;
Kicks the pebbles corner stone’s made of gold;
Harboring the renaissance of stories told;
I yet still walk through the Holy Garden;
Never forgetting, never seeing sin;
Placed in the heart of the Jesus mercies grace;
Never deny the Father’s primal space;
Caring and sharing alms of misplace;
Comforting and soothing man’s divineness;
Made up of clay and dirt covering spirit;
Departed death walks lands no one hears it…
1/17/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Tribute to my mother
Nothing can compare to
The great loss that I feel
Nothing can compare
To the love I had to give.
I often think about the precious
Smile on mother’s face
And the motherly and daughterly
Talk, that went on for days.
She knew how much I love her,
I could tell it in her voice,
I could tell how much she loved me;
I could feel it in my heart.
Sometimes when I felt lonely
Or even burden down
All I had to do is think about her,
And she would be around.
Mother would take her gentle finger,
And wipe the tears from my eyes
The heavy burden was lifted,
And I felt better inside.
My dear sweet mother; even
Though you are gone
I feel that you are free
But your kindness and
Courage will live on in me.
All the things you taught me,
Are kept silently in my mind
And it will keep me stronger
Each and every time
Saying good-bye is something
That has to be done
Losing a mother is never easy,
This I have learned.
If you are looking down from
Heaven and hear the words I say;
Peace is still:
My mother has gone away.
No matter what words be spoken,
On tomorrow or today
My heart is broken,
But I’ll love you anyway.
This craving desire that groweth in me,
Has opened the eye of my mind as to see
The chance of my daughterly duties abound
Shall serve so a well-kept privilege I found.
To none other than my eternal Father,
Shall this humble heart's moil belong rather.
To sing of His Mightiness ever to sound,
His kindness and love that has seen not a bound,
His power, divinity, ever so great,
That changeth, by trust, all of our so called "fate"
His handsomeness more than the purest damask,
Belief in Him whcih maketh easy a task.
For this boutneous Being I now do live for,
And so shall I live for, for evermore!
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