He's the guy next door - a man's man with the memory of a little boy.
He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.
He's a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.
Yet he stands taller than most of us.
He's a fireman.
He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.
A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.
He's a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.
He's a gentle man because he has seen the awesome
power of violence out of control.
He's responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held
too many small bodies that will never laugh again.
He's a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life -
hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone
and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men -
the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.
He doesn't wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.
When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.
He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.
-unknown author
Note from Barb...the wife of a firefighter.
The feeling you get when that pager goes off and you send your loved
one out the door to fight a fire, rescue a person from an auto accident,
do CPR on a little old lady. The feeling is all the same, you beg them to
be careful, even tho you know that they have had tons of training, you still
can't help but worry! You can't wait to hear that door open again!
Okay, enough about firefighters! *grin* I live that every day!
NOW on to the poems, I love poems, really love the ones that you can't
read out loud cause of that horrible lump in your throat! IF you know of one of those poems,
or you write them yourself and would like to see them here, mail them to me and I will put
them up for you!
A meeting was held quite far from earth
"It's time again for another birth."
Said the angels to the Lord above,
"This special child will need much love.
Her progress may seem very slow.
Accomplishments she may not show,
And she'll require extra care
From the folks she meets down there."
"She may not run or laugh or play,
Her thoughts may seem far away
In many ways she won't adapt
And she'll always be known as handicapped."
So lets be careful where she's sent
We want her life to be content
Please Lord, find parents who
will do a special job for you.
They will not realize right away
The leading role they're asked to play
But with this child sent from above
Comes stronger faith and richer love
"And soon they'll know the privilege given
In caring for this gift from Heaven
Their precious charge, so meek and mild
Is Heaven's Very Special Child."
This is hanging in our Home. I bought this for my husband Paul and his daughter Shannon, for you see Shannon is one of Heaven's Special Children!
You'll find there's a family of friends living here,
A small group of minds, and of hearts;
With some of us clever and some of us not.
At times you can't tell us apart.
There's one who is cranky one who is shy,
And one who is really uncouth.
And just when you think you've discovered who's who,
You'll really uncover the truth.
The truth that we're all just a little of each,
A group of imperfects are we.
And sometimes I might criticize them to you,
But, don't ever knock them to me.
'Cause the one thing that ties us together for life
No matter how far we're apart,
Is love for each other, a family of friends,
A small group of minds and of hearts.
By : Judith Brad
This is a poem for all the "old porch folks" and ones I have yet to meet!
"My child, I will walk with you.
Hold your hand through painful years.
I will never leave your side,
I will wipe away all of your tears.
"I feel the pain you feeling,
Know the torment you go through,
For I, have lost my son to death,
My heart was saddened, just like you.
"But my son rose to eternal life,
Your child has done the same.
He was given a new body,
He even has a different name.
"He sees the rainbow every day,
Feels the sun shine on his face.
He only knows a smile now,
In My glorious, peaceful place.
"He has a mansion built for him,
He runs and has such fun!
I know you will be joining him,
When you work on earth is done.
"He's now at peace forever more.
I will keep him safe from any harms,
He awaits you walking through the gates,
For you to hold him in your arms."
DO NOT copy this poem without permission from Cyndy!!
An angel came to visit me
She whispered soft and low
Her words upon her angle breath
She told of others woes
Within the glow around her
My heart, it knew no fear
She said that I could help her
A task for me she had
Again her breath caressed me
As she told me of her plight
All she wanted of me
Was to tell those I might meet
That we must love each other
Our own worries to forget
Her angel breath, sweetly scented
Covered me like a cloak
As she reminded me that
We are brothers all
And sure as night and day will come
She could guarantee
That the pain of others is greater
Than any pain we will see
Extend the hand of friendship
Give comfort to the sad
Her angle breath caressed me
A kiss upon my cheek
And as the Angel left me
I said a silent prayer, and vowed that
I will love my brother and whoever I might meet
I will comfort the saddened and weary
Help sooth away the pain
Never again will I feel sorry for myself
For an angle came to visit me
And with her angels breath
Blew away my every woe as a parting gest
Copied with permission by...
Cyndy
Life has been unkind
Promises of castles and palaces
That were grand.
All I ever got were castles
made of sand.
Sand castles fill
my empty beaches,
Built so high,
Only be taken away
By the next wave.
Just like you
The day you had to go.
Remembrances of you
Are in my mind
Like the traces
Of my sand castles.
You are both gone, so
Hard to find.
We build them up so high,
Hoping they'll always
be there.
But then they kiss
the shore good-bye
Now I know my palaces
And castles will never be.
They'll be nothing more than
Sand castles
For me.
Copied with permission by...
Cyndy
I stand here looking at the sky
Wondering how you would be
How tall, what color eyes, hair.
Would you act like your daddy or me?
What would you like to play?
Who would you want to be?
What kind of food would you eat?
What would you want to see?
Would you still be the same
As I remember you that day?
Would you still be the same
Like the day you went away?
There are so many questions
I have in my heart
Would you be so precious?
Would you still be so smart?
And then I start to wonder
What do you look like today?
The color of your eyes, your hair
Do you look the same way?
Who are you playing with?
Do you still like to play?
I wonder what you're doing
On this very quiet day.
But I know that you are happy
You're in glorious heaven above
You're surrounded by the angels
And covered with Jesus' love.
Copied with permission by...
Cyndy
Being far away from you,
I think of you often,
but it is not an empty feeling.
It is a feeling
Of appreciation.
I remember the uniqueness
Of your expressions,
The depth of your loving,
And the joy and laughter
You brought to my world.
And through my memories of you,
I am never alone.
Crescent moon, butter yellow,
reclining on her back,
swift slash of a falling star
cutting into my heart.
Beckon, beckon,
the flower falls, shrivelled,
more to bloom.
Your Spirit of mystery and me
groaning to bring beauty
from chaos, everpresent around me
and in my mind.
But when, my failed hand writes,
when will I ever overcome and make?
Deep sky calls to deep secrets
and deep desire. Desire yearns
and clamors (silent demanding voice)
to shout, to be heard,
but only if a valuable voice, kindred
to soulmaker's Soul....
Oh, crescent moon, butter yellow,
my struggling roses, all wrapped
under deep sky and many stars,
aside the cooling truck engine,
deep calls to deep.