The Good Old Summer Time

                           
                              Summer is slowly passing by
                              tomorrow is already the first of July

                             Hot weather is upon us, it's time to retreat
                             under a big shade tree down by the creek

                             I'll grab the fishing pole and fish for awhile
                             then jump in feet first with a big, old smile

                            When I'm done and the day is through
                             I'll catch fireflies, something else I like to do

                             The good old summer time, the best time of year
                             I' going to enjoy it while it's still here

                             Susie Swanson      

                            Folks I just don't know if this one cuts the mustard or not.
                            Oh well, hope you  enjoy the summer, Blessings Susie

Red Roses

                                                 Beautiful red roses
                                                 climbing,climbing a tree
                                                 each year they grow
                                                 there's more roses to see

                                                 Ancestral red roses
                                                 passed down through time
                                                 from my gardening grandma
                                                 into the hands of mine

                                                 Very special red roses
                                                  from a large array
                                                 she planted a rose garden
                                                 along her life's way

                                                 Crowning red roses
                                                 that sparkle with the dew
                                                 part of her legacy
                                                 from a rose gardener's hue

                                                 Old time red roses
                                                  blooming there for me
                                                  I wish my grandma
                                                  could be here to see

                                                Susie Swanson  

                                          This is a repost from February,2011
                                          Some may remember it , but the new followers haven't read it.
                                          It's one of my favorites. Hope you enjoy. Blessings, Susie

Fears Hidden Away

                                                It happens so often
                                                a small, whimpering voice
                                                heard in the dark
                                                without reason or choice

                                                With an empty stomach
                                                 a body that's bruised
                                                 no where to turn
                                                 and everything to lose

                                                 Such an innocent place
                                                 where childhood lives
                                                 is slowly taken away
                                                 by the hand that gives

                                                 A small spirit is broken
                                                 the pieces are gone
                                                 never to be replaced
                                                 but innocence goes on

                                                 Running and jumping
                                                 so happy at play
                                                 with a smile on its face
                                                 and fears hidden away

                                           
                                            Susie Swanson       

The Quilt Holes

Some of you may have already read this but I wanted to share it with everyone. It was given to me by a friend and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


As I faced my Maker at the last judgement,I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls.
Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles: an angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life.
But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.
I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened.
My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.
Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me and nodded for me to rise.
My gaze dropped to the ground in shame.I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life and laughter, but there had also been trials of illness and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it. I had to start over many times.I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would melt within my skin beneath the judgemental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.
And now I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was.
I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.
An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes.
Then I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in his eyes. He said " Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let me shine through, until there was more of me than there was of you".

May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through!

Author Unknown..

If You Pass Me By

                                Perhaps you'd call it plain
                                this simple house I live
                                nothing fancy to the eye
                                with plenty of love to give

                                I'm sure you wouldn't notice
                                the memories tucked inside
                                of so many happy years
                                with my family by myside

                                You might not notice the flowers
                                 in my yard nestled away
                                 or the pretty, little birds singing
                                 that cheerfully make my day

                                 Oh if you could only see
                                 the squirrels I call my own
                                 frolicking around at play
                                 outside my simple home

                                 The enchantment of a sunset
                                 each evening comes to call
                                 end of day's perfect show
                                 you may never see at all

                                 Perhaps you'd see me plain
                                 with simple clothes and worn
                                 overlook my grateful heart
                                 for the simple things I adorn

                                 If things are hard to find
                                 much like where you have been
                                 beauty lies within the heart
                                 close your eyes and look again

                                 My simple life of treasures
                                 is more than gold can buy
                                 you'll never know paradise
                                 if you pass me by

                                 Susie Swanson    Copyright, 2011

From A Poet's Heart

                                   
                                        I have felt the thrill of passion in the poet's rhyme
                                        and experienced the feelings of emotions intertwined

                                        I have flown on the wings of an eagle's flight
                                        and stood in darkness when the sun was shining bright

                                       I have crossed oceans and learned how to sail
                                       with the wind's mighty force of a powerful gale

                                       I have faced battles and learned how to fight
                                       but when I looked around it was there in plain sight

                                       I have heard the small voice in my mind's ear
                                       and rose to the challenge with an eager cheer

                                       I have waited patiently for the beckon call
                                       and with pen in hand tried to capture it all

                                       I have traveled far and back again
                                       held on to journey from which I had been

                                       The creation of poetry can be a powerful blend
                                        to a poet's heart a calm peace it does send

                                       So I'll leave it to the reader to capture the warm flame
                                       with the thrill of the moment they'll never be the same

                                      Susie Swanson     Published, April, 2010

She Sings Like An Angel

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  old songs and new
                                                  pretty brown hair
                                                  and eyes of blue

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  with an angel's voice
                                                  Make Me A Blessing
                                                  God surely does rejoice

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  with beauty and grace
                                                  There Is A Fountain
                                                  a beautiful, cleansing place

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  Love Lifted Me
                                                  she's free from sin
                                                  God holds the key

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  with a shining halo
                                                  The Old Rugged Cross
                                                   how she loves it so

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  In The Sweet By And By
                                                  through out the ages
                                                  and forever she'll fly

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  heaven's door is open wide
                                                  Ten Thousand Angels
                                                  join in with pride

                                                  She sings like an angel
                                                  with a message to share
                                                  I'll Meet You In The Morning
                                                  In Hallelujah Square

                                     
                                           Susie Swanson, Copyright, 2011

This one is for my beautiful grandaughter. The songs that I have put in this poem are just a few of the many songs that she sings. She sings in church , and she brings her song books with her when she comes to visit me. We have a grand old time singing, old songs from the past or new.
She loves to sing and when I listen to her voice and the beautiful music that comes out, it brings tears to my eyes. What a God-given talent. . I believe in my heart that God gave her this beautiful gift to share with the world, and That she surely does.. Thank you God for your many blessings  and especially my beautiful, talented grandaughter, Maria... Blessings, Susie