Skip to main content

Warrior






  My dad, a brave heart, a true knight.  He did not let death consume his awaiting heart.  Death was soon to slip up, out of the reeds, trickling in.  Family, love, laughter, mounted up, pushing death back into the abyss.  Love of God, Love of his cherished family, lifted him onto the solid hill of faith.  Faith he had, like a shield, holding back the fire-breathing dragon.  Praising  in times of joy and deafening falls.  He was a true example of heroism, dignity, and elaborate grace.

"Warrior" is the poem I wrote for my dad's celebration of life.  It was a celebration of heaven and singing angels.  It was a celebration of a man who conquered death, running the race, and winning!



Warrior 

Amidst the magnolias one sunset eve,
The Celtic warrior claimed his poised princess

The love they had was grand and spiritual
Their love was as appetizing as dewy apples

They would journey on the steed of life
They would discover forests of exhilaration

The royal relationship sewed many seeds,
It grew and spread like grapevines

They were heart bled on heart,
Soul chained to deep soul

They were bonded with love ribbons,
Tied with the rope of fondness

They would never separate palms
 but, death came calling

A gentleman the brave heart was,
He knew when to leave this earthly land

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm turning 30! Dad, I need you.

  As I sit here by myself, with the electric fireplace glowing in the background, I think, “I can’t believe I’m going to be thirty next month.”   March 16 th to be exact .   I’m going to be a thirty year old woman like the woman acting in the Hallmark movie I’m watching.   A new adventure awaits me as I stand atop the thirty year old mountain.   As I overlook the adventurous summit, there is a pinnacle peak missing, my dad.   I will be traveling emerald roads and picking fresh flowers without his guidance.   What would he think of me now?   Would he be proud of the woman I’m becoming?   What godly words would he have spoken at this time in my life? My twenties stampeded by like a band of Mustangs over the plains of Montana.   I remember turning twenty-one two seconds ago and taking a picture with my dad.   Snap!   Click!   Memory day branded.   That was the last year I would see my dad in pictures. ...

I Once Knew a Man

August 11th, 2008 will mark the 7th year anniversary of my dad's passing.  The journey of grief has taken my family and I to many places, through the shadowy woods trying to tread towards the light and standing in the sunshine with God's warmth upon us.  June 2013 was the year that my mom and I left our home in Michigan to be with my brother in Louisiana, who was pursuing a career in the oil field.  We needed a fresh start, a new beginning, a start of a peaceful chapter.  Michigan held many rooftop stamps (my dad owned his own roofing business) and camping "memory days".  Sweet memories bloomed everywhere, amongst the country and in the suburbs.  God decided that He wanted us to move to Houma, Louisiana, Cajun country, to build a new life.  My dad was an original Southern man, born and raised in Central Louisiana, a little town called Beaver (nope, don't even look on a map, because you won't find it).  Even though, I left my home in Michig...

Tap, Tap, Tap...Faith upon my Lap

  This is a memory I’ve never blogged about. I love blogging because, I can write about feelings, love, faith, and somehow, lengthen my dad’s legacy. An imprint was left on my soul that spans the meadows of Cades Cove, which was my dad’s favorite vacation spot. On my heart, he tied a forever memory knot. . His faith also traversed the mountains of the misty Smokies. My dad’s surmountable trust in God bequeathed throughout “heartlands”. . One evening, gentle faithfulness nested in our townhome. My dad was in the end stages of his earthly life and was preparing his soul to go heavenly home. Even though, my dad wasn’t fully coherent due to morphine, he still comprehended God’s love. He still understood ounces of hope. I opened the creased pages of his coffee stained Bible. The word of God was torn and disheveled from years of usage. This was a Bible of a man after God’s own heart. . I opened to Hebrews… . Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about w...