The Shire

The dreams of Heaven we have formed
I doubt I would feel cozy in;
With stately mansions and pristine paths,
The glories of Lothlorien—

A haven for the weary,
The trees present a golden dome
Which keep us safe inside a bubble,
But isn’t what I could call home.

Lothlorien is beautiful
With all the magic in the air,
But Heaven couldn’t be like it;
’Cause it would not feel homey there…

No, Heaven must be like the Shire,
And filled with rolling hills of green;
Where beauty fills your heart with love
And souls are happily whistling—

Lothloriens are nice as havens
When balrogs in this life attack;
But when the adventure’s finally over
I’ll enter heaven with a song
And give my girl a smile, and a hug.
Then I will whisper,
                             “Well—
                                          I’m back.”

Warmth

I began this poem in my imagination as I held my sleeping daughter in my arms. She is growing up too fast...

Warmth

Why do I try to hold the threads

Of ethereal delights?
I try to weave a quilt of memories
To treasure in the night,
But it is like attempting to
Entwine the rays of light…

But if I cannot weave a quilt
To warm a heart grown cold,
I still can bask in rays of love,
Which tinge my heart with gold!
I’ll cherish every moment
Instead of grabbing hold…

The sunshine that I cherish now
Is not forever mine,
But love that saturates my heart
Will stand the test of time;
Wherever God may take you,
My love is by your side.