Thursday, March 28, 2013

Old Rugged Cross

                                                       It stood on a hillside
                                                       An old rugged cross
                                                       The emblem of suffering
                                                       For sinners that were lost

                                                       His bloodshed was eminent
                                                       To crucify they were bound
                                                       He wore a crown of thorns
                                                       Destined for heaven's crown

                                                       They mocked and smote him
                                                       They placed thieves by his side
                                                       My God Why Has Thou Forsaken
                                                       He cried before he died

                                                       They wrapped him in linen
                                                       Placed him in a borrowed tomb
                                                       They rolled a great stone
                                                       In the doorway to entomb

                                                       On the third day they came
                                                       At the rising of the sun
                                                       The stone was rolled away
                                                       They could not hold God's son

                                                       On that old rugged cross
                                                       His bloodstains washed away
                                                       All the sins in this world
                                                       He surely lives today

                                                       Thank you Lord for that old cross
                                                       You made the ultimate sacrifice
                                                       Like the thief on the cross
                                                       I'll see you in paradise

                                                     @ Susie Swanson,2013

                                   From my family to yours, Happy Easter and May God Bless. Susie

Monday, March 25, 2013

When Pretty Flowers Grow

                                              After the winter comes the spring
                                              When pretty flowers grow
                                              The hand of God is everywhere
                                              As the seasons come and go

                                              When my faith needs restoring
                                              And my heart is sinking low
                                              I walk among my flowers
                                              Once covered in winter snow

                                              A small, still voice I can hear
                                              Awakens my heart and mind
                                              To the beautiful surroundings
                                              I find peace of a far lasting kind

                                              When I hear the birds singing
                                               How can I feel fear or doubt
                                               Or when the March wind is blowing
                                               On my face, around and about

                                               The things I touch, see or feel
                                               In the midst of my daily routine
                                               Is God's likeness shining forth
                                               His presence can be felt or seen

                                               When I walk among the flowers
                                               There's new birth to my slumbering soul
                                               God's smile is like the sunshine
                                               Burning bright, reaching its goal

                                               After the spring comes the summer
                                               When pretty flowers grow
                                               Every season puts forth beauty
                                               Like fall leaves and falling snow

                                               When my heart is heavy laden
                                                And blue skies turn to gray
                                                I walk among my flowers
                                                And thank God for another day

                                               @ Susie Swanson, 2013

Thought I'd give a little spring cheer so to speak.. Although spring is fighting hard, winter just won't let go... Like so many of you, we've had snow showers all day and still snowing.. Like my Daddy used to say, it's gonna be a late spring.. The Hibiscus picture above is last years... I have several of those and thank goodness they haven't raised their little heads yet.. I'm watching the Peony Roses really close.. I usually have to cover those several times before the weather warms up .. My lilys are up but they're hardy and the cold doesn't seem to bother them so much...Oh well, something to look forward to/. How's it going in your neck of the woods or should I ask..

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Barbed Wire And Roses

                                                      The beauty is twined along the fence
                                                      Where roses grow amidst the wire
                                                       Across the green meadow
                                                       In greenbrier

                                                      They appear in spring so luminous
                                                      Kissed by the morning dew
                                                      In sweet insistent wind
                                                      Refreshing and new

                                                      One single red rose among the thorns
                                                      Placed with love and certainty
                                                      A rose of crimson red
                                                      Bright and lovely

                                                      A young girl's heart is mesmerized
                                                      For a thing of beauty so strong
                                                      She stands breathless
                                                      Such beauty strewn

                                                      Across the years and distant shore
                                                      My grandma smiles upon me
                                                      The red roses she placed
                                                      Lives in my heart
                                                      Through eternity

                                                      What shall we leave behind when gone
                                                      For those who follow behind
                                                      Twined in barbed wire
                                                      Roses so divine

                                                      @Susie Swanson, 2013

It's that time of year again when grandma's roses start coming out over the community where I live.. She planted them everywhere she went. Along the roadside, beside the fence, anywhere her heart led her to put them.. I have one in my yard on the creek bank... Like the others, it's a climbing rose that has weathered many storms and years .. One of her many red roses.. White pink and yellow also grace the country side.. Everyone knows that has lived here long enough where they got their start.. Even though my grandma has been gone since 1960, her roses are her legacy.. Left behind for all to enjoy. She and her roses live on in my heart each passing day and perhaps in the many hearts she has touched with each beautiful rose.. Miss you Grandma..Love, Susie

Thursday, March 14, 2013

A Boy And His Grandpa

                                                       A boy and his grandpa
                                                       Out to conquer the world
                                                       Traveling this way and that
                                                       Like falling leaves that swirl

                                                       The boy listened so close
                                                       He hung on every word
                                                       Grandpa was always right
                                                       So many things he heard

                                                       Come I'll show you son
                                                       The things that I have done
                                                       Always hold your head high
                                                       Nothing in life do you shun

                                                       Never forget where you came
                                                       No matter where you go
                                                       You're smart as a whip son
                                                        More so than you know

                                                       Now let's go fishing a while
                                                       Don't forget your pole
                                                       I'll show you a trick or two
                                                       At that old fishing hole

                                                       Awe, look at that garden
                                                       Those taters sure did grow
                                                       You did a fine job son
                                                       None missing in either row

                                                       How about some supper
                                                       It'll be dark real soon
                                                       I've been looking forward
                                                       To catching that big coon

                                                       Feed your dogs good son
                                                       It's time to hit the trail
                                                       Don't forget your lantern
                                                       That coon's waited quite a spell

                                                       Awe, listen to the dogs now
                                                       They've picked up his scent
                                                       Tonight's the very night
                                                       That old coon is well spent

                                                       Shine your light high son
                                                       Up in that big oak tree
                                                       Can you see his eyes
                                                       He's waiting so patiently

                                                       We've finally got us a coon
                                                       And he's a fine one too
                                                       But we better get a move on
                                                       The time sure has grew

                                                       We need to head on home now
                                                       Time to hit the old tic
                                                       Your mama will have my hide
                                                       Where's my walking stick

                                                       Well, I do declare
                                                       For once I left it behind
                                                       Let's gather up the dogs
                                                       That coon's still on their mind

                                                       The fishing hole is still there
                                                       The lantern hangs on a nail
                                                       Grandpa is now gone
                                                       So many memories to dwell

                                                        A boy and his grandpa
                                                        Like two peas in a pod
                                                        They shared a special bond
                                                        Always together they trod

Sunday, March 10, 2013

There Will Be Poems

                                               When all the poets of the world have flung
                                               Their words upon the listening air
                                               Words so profound for many hearts to share
                                               And cling above the fields to wait unsung

                                               In the clear, night skies where stars are swung
                                               Years and time will hold them there
                                               Waiting, waiting for those who dare
                                               To which no poet has yet given tongue

                                               I need no longer hurry to make
                                               My small poems, for none can take from me
                                               The ancient wonders that the stars awake
                                               There will be poems through eternity

                                               I too, shall leave behind carved in stone
                                               My heart in the depth of each verse and word
                                               For future generations to read after I'm gone
                                               My poems, my voice they will have heard

                                               My unseen presence will then have been raised
                                               I carry the torch from my yesterdays
                                               Following paths many poets have blazed
                                               To them I bow with honor and praise

                                               @ Susie Swanson, 2013


Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Happy Anniversary Dad And Mom

Today would have been my Daddy and Mama's 62th Anniversary.. They're spending it in heaven again this year.. They were married in 1951 and had me in 52... I'll never forget the little story that was told about their wedding day.. Daddy went and bought himself a new pair of shoes (called slippers back then ) and didn't pay any attention to it until he started to put them on.. He opened the box and there was only one shoe.. The other had apparently been left at the store.. He had to wear his old shoes to get married in and the soles were about off of them.. Later on he took them back to the store and they matched them up with another shoe.. Back then they seldom ever got any shoes and I know he had to work quite a while to have enough money to even buy any..

They got married in Georgia since that state didn't require you to have a blood test and such.. Just about all of the old people around here went to Georgia and got married.. In our case Georgia wasn't to far away.. Daddy and Mama got married by the Justice Of The Peace in Blairsville Georgia.. Our old homeplace was almost on the Georgia State Line.. It sit just back this side within a few hundred feet.. My Grandma on my Daddy's side lived with us until her death back in 1960... She said that people used to come out walking pass our house just to cross over the state line and get married.. There were a lot of them according to grandma.. Daddy said probably just about the whole I just though ya'll might enjoy this..

Happy Anniversary Daddy and Mama. Hope to see you both again soon, Love Susie

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Yesterday's Sky

                                            I am lonely for the sounds of yesterday
                                            Wagon wheels rolling down a dirt road
                                            Or that old gristmill in the distance
                                            Grinding corn for many a wagon load

                                            I listen with my heart and write it down
                                            Everything is so special and worthy of
                                            A story that lingers from yesterday
                                            Is a life lesson with pride and love

                                            I treasure that old run down barn
                                            So many secrets and stories to tell
                                            My yearning heart over flows
                                            For these are the things I dwell

                                            Upon that little hillside everyday
                                            Where juicy strawberries grew
                                            The echoes of small voices
                                            Still sound so brand new

                                            Or that forever old homeplace
                                            Where silence was never heard
                                            We were free as the wind that blew
                                             And sailed high as any bird

                                            Running through a green field
                                            Playing ball on a Sunday afternoon
                                            Walking home from church
                                            By the light of a full moon

                                            Sitting on the front porch
                                            On a hot summer's night
                                            Oh the joy of simple pleasures
                                            Is never far from sight

                                            Sledding down a snowy hill
                                            On a cold winter's day
                                            In one door and out the other
                                            As childhood memories sway

                                            Helping mama make quilts
                                            Stitching every stitch in time
                                            Wind blown quilts on clotheslines
                                            Blowing in early spring time
                                            Those Christmas time memories
                                            Awakens my heart with a song
                                            They taught me the gift of giving
                                            Love is the best gift I've ever known

                                            We may not have had much
                                            Of the finer things in the world
                                            The many life lessons taught
                                            Takes me back to that little girl

                                            Still fresh as the morning dew
                                            Only old as my heart will allow
                                            Like that old mule daddy used
                                            In the spring he loved to plow

                                            My muse is forever calling me
                                            Down every hill and trail
                                            It brings a world of comfort
                                            There's so many things to tell

                                            Writing about my yesterdays
                                            My inkpot will never run dry
                                            They are planted in my heart
                                            And blue as yesterday's sky

                                            Susie Swanson @ 2013