Hear Our Cry

Hear the cry of our people,
Children unsafe at play.
Crime in our country runs rampant
They plunder our land by the day.

Hear the cry of our people,
It saddens my heart to se,
The hate and corruption around me
Where love and compassion should be.

Hear the cry of our people
Her voice rings loud and clear
The terrorists they have come and
Brought their evil here.

Hear the cry of our people,
The impoverished in need of care,
The greed of those in power
Leave little for others to share.

Hear the cry of our people,
Their cries are flooding our land.
Empty hearts, empty pews, and empty bellies,
Who will take a stand?

Hear the cry of our people,
Where are our country's brave?
Without our founders' wisdom
We'll sink beneath the waves.

Kinna's Dogs

I'm finally finished with all three of Kinna's dogs....Rusty, Bishop and Murphy!

I wrote the following poem while staying with my friend at Hope Lodge in Gainesville. She had stem cell transplant and was there for 100 days. I spent a week with her and heard lots of cancer stories and was moved to write about Hope Lodge.





The Beauty of Hope

Almost hidden by surrounding trees
is a house where hope dwells.
Many come, no disrespect for color or conviction,
their crosses to bear.
A full moon overhead watches and waits,
the morning mist lends promise to a brighter day.
Arriving begins early
and doors open to receive the stricken.
Masks, wigs, hoods cover and conceal.
They come to prepare a meal and linger to comfort.
Caring concerns, forced smiles thru tears, food and music
to soothe the soul.
Days run together, winter's dreariness sets in,
Below the soil new life waits for springs rain.
Storms of life come but will never wash away
memories, love, eternal life, nor
the beauty that dwells in hope.