Poems
Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you...
I loved you so ------
'twas Heaven here with you.
Isla Paschal Richardson
IF I SHOULD GROW FRAIL
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain does keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done
For this - the last battle - can't be won.
You will be sad I understand
But don't let grief then stay your hand.
For on this day, more than the rest
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end.
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must now be you
Who has to decide this thing to do.
We've been so close - we two- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
(author unknown)
I know your heavy heart is sad,
within your eye a bitter tear.
As you remember all you had
with one you once had held so dear.
This too shall pass, the Proverbs say,
and that old sun will shine again.
Before you know, there'll come a day
when you can smile and tears will end.
I know it hurts right now,
but just hang on.
With time, the day will come
the pain is gone.
If you let it hold you down,
you'll never last.
If you just hang on a while,
the pain will pass.
I know you're feelin' all you've lost,
but just remember all you've gained.
And as you heart is torn and tossed,
a little time will ease the pain.
I know you're feelin' all alone.
the footprints stopped upon the sand.
Remember there is always one
who will be there to lend a hand
I know it hurts right now,
but just hang on.
With time, the day will come
the pain is gone.
If you let if keep you down,
you'll never last.
If you just hang on a while,
the pain will pass.
Copyright 1994 William E. (Ed) Miller 05-23
My Gift to Jesus
In my vet's waiting room is a framed poem,
titled MY GIFT TO JESUS by Jane L. Sears.
It move me so, I took a copy home.
It bemoans the thought of Jesus never owning
a dog and expresses the poet's belief that she
is sending her newly deceased dog to Him.
I wish that Jesus had a cat whose purr would
have been like a prayer.
She would have sat with Him before His betrayal
in the Garden of Gethsemane, would have walked
with Him there in times that were happy and
never trample on a single blossom.
She would have been a loving pet but independent
enough to let her master go about His mission.
She would have kissed His hand, but could have
hissed enough to unsettle the evil snake, despite
all the hissing he could make.
With her ability to see through the darkness, like Jesus,
she would have made a great companion for the
Son of Man.
She would have sometimes left Him to roam,
but never too far from home for her wandering
to count.
She would be gone, but then, Jesus would be
preaching His Sermon on the Mount and
suddenly, she would be there. He would look
around and see her, listening attentively.
And when He would look up from His cross,
crying, "Oh Father, why have you forsaken me?"
she would be looking upon Him from the
limb of a great tree.
She would gaze at Him with all the compassion
of a loving friend, faithful to the end. And when
his body would be lowered, she would come
down from the tree, faster than ever, knowing
in her head that He was not truly dead.
With a bristly tongue, she would lick the wounds
of her master.
So I am sending my lord Jesus my beloved
cat, Puella. I hope that she can hear the
angels playing their harps or singing
acappella. Every feline likes music, soft
and fine, but this is especially true of mine.
And I wish my music lover could be the
cat that Jesus never had on earth. I wish
my sweet, furry little flirt could rub
against His feet. And I pray that, as Jesus
sits at the right hand of God, my beloved
cat may sometimes curl up in His lap.
May18/19, 1993
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