Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

"My child" said HE who has no form, “Just come and rest in ME,  I'll give you comfort like none else And show MY power to thee.” I followed Him as close I could Uncertain, where He’d lead But knowing I could only trust This answer to my plead. This ONE, who made the worlds from naught, Why would HE let me down? He only can do GOOD to all Rewarding, with a crown. And so, I daily take a step To follow  in His way Encouraged by His constant love Poured upon me each day. Composed after reading the following on a MeWE page DEAR LORD Dear Lord please hear my prayer I need your help right now I feel hurt everywhere I want to feel better and don’t know how I thought I could do it on my own I thought I could get by This pain is like one I’ve never known However all I do is cry Please heal my broken heart Please take away this pain Direct me to a new start Let me be better once again I know you have a plan for me Only You know what I need Guide me to where I’m to be Let my heart no

Though isn’t it strange, but it’s also quite sad That many will cel’brate, ’n’ not think of the lad Who came as a baby, became mortal flesh In order to give to us, new life, afresh. The ONE, who, before even time did begin Did know of the future that was before Him; The suff’ring that He knew would be hard to bear Yet WILLINGLY, took on the pain, midst a pair Of guilty, vile victims who deserved their fate And  yet, He continued to show all, no hate. Why, even before they did take their last breath He welcomed one more, to new life, after death. Who made such a change and continues, e’en still, In the lives of ‘WHOEVER’ accepting His will.              ............................................. { The other thief hanging, I wonder, of him He STILL is tormented, because of his whim To taunt the dear Saviour, while still on the cross, Eventually realised his freedom did toss. } However, He promised, a promise He’ll keep, The Shepherd’s returning, for all of His sheep, Predicted in HIS

My mother true  Would not like you With hair upon the face, The lip, it’s feared, Or full blown beard, For hair, ’twas not the place. Not ONLY on The lip upon My father or a son, She’d disapprove “You must, it, move” On almost anyone. When dating dad He had a fad To grow a moustache dark Mum said a  “NO”…. “It has to go” So he would play ‘a lark.’ The ‘forties, ’twas Travelling by bus When meeting for a date, She arrived first, But nearly cursed Whene’er she spied her mate. His lip was dark (He’d played a lark) Mum thought it still was hair As he drew near It was so clear No moustache growing there “Tis true, he’d shaved But misbehaved And drew a large black mark On upper lip Just as a quip, He’d done it for a lark. Now man’ years past Her son, - the last, Did grow a moustache dark, Still mum said “NO……. It has to go” The son, he didn’t hark. Took ’nother way A game did play The full beard, grow, did he, “Don’t like the beard” {But then son cheered,} “Moustache, it was okay”

 When staying with my brother,  Just prior to migrating, We went with him on Sunday morn To witness his preaching. There's fifteen years between us, In ways, though, we're alike, Our humour and our caring Close resemblance,  does strike. Can not recall exactly Th'item to be passed, But easier 'twas for me to reach To give to him quite fast. The one handing it to me,  Related were, knew well, Though with fifteen years difference, 'Twould have been hard to tell. Rather than stretch over, The item, handed me, Brian mouthed "say nothing" when, "Give that to your dad" said he. Of course, I couldn't let it pass, So on our journey back, I HAD to mention t'my new 'dad' In his fine cadillac. Thankfully, the two of us Certain things we both do share Not JUST both of our parents, but A sense of humour rare.

    I reminisced of dad today     A scary time, for mum     About the day he disappeared     For just too long, THEN some.     Was born in Carrickfergus     Then retired to the same     On Belfast Lough, below a hill     He still was known by name     A neighbouring town, ‘Greenisland’     A few miles heading west     Does have a wartime monument     Atop that mountain crest.     There is a winding roadway     To gain admittance there,     Just o’er four miles (or seven ‘k’)     Dad gave himself a ‘dare’     With onset of altzheimers,     Though bouts were rare and short     He took himself out for a walk,     From his home - Fergus Court.     He’d done so quite a few times     Though soon after, returned     So on this day he did the same     So mum was not concerned.     Now I can walk four miles an 'hour'     Upon a surface flat     Though with a hill and slower pace     You near could triple that     Whene'er one hour plus had passed by,      Mum got a bit concerned