Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

 When in the hosp'tal '91,  For major surgery,  Small wards they had, same gender,  Another five and me.  Each morning, 'observation check's  The nurse would, question, ask,  "Mr. Ross, d'you know where you are?"  It was a daily task   Ward 39, was where I lay,  Across the corridor,  In ward 40, were females, six,  Each morning, would implore.   Whene'er, each morn, the question asked,  A fun game, I would play,  "I'm in ward 39, though I  Want to be in 'forty'.  Coming out of anesthesia   After my surgery,  Th'observation question,asked,  To check my memory. "Mr. Ross, d'you know where you are?"  My usual response given,  "You're actually in th'recovery ward"  My memory safe, was proven.

  Goodbye, it seems so final, In life, we'll say a few, Though didn't think 'twould be as hard To say "goodbye" to you. Your stories on your 'facebook' With 'nature chats' expressed, I'm pretty sure your readers Did end up being blessed. Made mention of it often, The love you have for Tweed  And torn between Line 45, Your hearts love did succeed. So now to Tweed you're heading back  Still quite some travelling, Your 'chats with nature ', will go on Your sparrows, will still sing. Your concerned love for others, With sponsored walks, to raise Some needed funds, assistance, Then your Creator, praise. So think about us often, As we, will think of you, Your Generations family  Unite, to say "adieu".

"This  life is all there is here" "There is no 'afterlife' " Has often been repeated By youth, husband, or wife. HOWEVER, when it happens, Of someone close, demise, "They're in a 'better place's now" Are words that do arise. If only, made for certain,  Their destination place, The BETTER choice, of course made, Would provide grieving grace. Then, in place of a "funeral", Have "Life's Celebration", That certainty, re-meeting, With Spirits' elevation.

Whene'er I reach those Pearly Gates, First greeting I'll receive, Will be "WELCOME" from Triune God, Since years back, did believe. Though there'll be MANY, MANY more, Relatives, distant, close,  Friends from many years, and few, E'en unknown t'me, suppose. Grand parents past, before my birth, Siblings, stillborn, or lost, Had learned of two, aft. parents passed, Whose paths, I'd never crossed. Then friends, whose Heavenly migration, Young, middle aged, who'd passed To their eternal Paradise, Will reunite, at last. Then we'll have time, ETERNAL time To gather 'round His throne, Together, adoration bring To Triune God, alone.

My father was a humble man, Was driving long before A formal 'test' was needed, Be that two or four door. Initially,  a motorbike, When dating my dear mum, Though afterwards, a vehicle  When parents, did become. A vehicle, it was needed, Cared less whate'er he drove, So long as got from 'A' to 'B' He had nothing to prove. A "sense of humour" had he, A "sense of grandeur" too, The luxury vehicle, named Rolls Royce, Was out of bounds, he knew. Though drove a 'Rolls Can'ardly' His description, with wit, It certainly, 'Rolls' downhill though, 'Can'ardly' roll up it.

  My father was a strict man, Now let me put you straight, He HAD a playful manner, Just hated to be late. A "personal chauffeur" was he To me, when I was young, When fo'me, 'driving' was "no-no" His trait, on me, has hung. He loathed to rush, in traffic, Preferred a gentler drive,  Would stress,  always, importance Of tryin' to stay alive. A 'crystal ball' he had not, Road traffic, for to see, "You don't know what the traffics like" Was emphasized  to me. Thus, when he was a-driving,  With others, or alone, He aye chose to leave early, Not brake that speeding zone. 'Twas drummed into his family, That he, to keep a date, Be fifteen minutes early, Than e'er ONE MINUTE late.

  When growing up, in mid teens  A 'scrawny' figure had,  I was exempt from 'sports class'  Though, was a skinny lad. When working in a builders yard, Sev'nteen to thirty one, While times it could be stressful, At other times, 'twas fun. I did, though, gain some muscle power Unloading trailers, large, Ne'er noticed daily progress, While hauling, free of charge. From that went into 'caring' Transferring human weight, Though knowing how to, properly, Easier than hauling freight. Assisted moving humans, Lift over twice my weight, Knowledge of doin' it prop'ly, No injuries, to date. Bend legs, back straight, was how I'd trained, It IS the way to go,  Soon muscles did get stronger And they began to show. Though wordmanship, it also grew, With "C.Ross-words", to boot, I'd play on words consistently, Deliberat'ly, wrong word, put. So where I once was 'puny' With wordmanship, my fame, Did add  "N" to descriptio...

The lifespan of a butterfly, Is one of struggling toil, From crawling caterpillar To pupas toiling coil. Caterpillar stage, just weeks long, Pupa, can be two years As a flying butterfly, Four weeks or less, those dears. Eventually the beauty shows Their patterned, coloured, wings I'm sure, that in their language, Though we can't hear, she sings. No announcement, weather forecast, To them, innate it seems, The sunny dryer climate, Has them enjoy sun's beams. Whene'er it rains, the butterfly, Will rest, their wings, can't use, So they'll relax from labouring 'Til clearer day, she views. Since Creator made the butte'fly,  HE also, mankind made, We too, our rest times needed Lest energy does fade. Whene'er we go through trials, Stand back, let go, take rest, Recharge 'til we're more able, Then we can show our best.

    A town in Northern Ireland   Historic castle, there,   Is reknowned in a song now,   It's sung, with loving care.    In Canada, now living,   Return home, - not scheduled   Retired, in 'ssisted living,   The given care, quite good.   The town, is Carrickfergus   First half of name, - best known.   Quite soon though, I'LL be movin'   To second half, I'm goin'.   Though NOT to TOWN by that name,   There IS one, not too far,   It's only 40 mins away   When traveling by car.   The new place I will go to,   Is Fergus Place, by name,   I trust the care received there   Be better, if not the same.

The button shows a wheelchair So those who, close, can't get, To pull the doorway open, May use, to entry, let. Howe'er, like most things out there, Advantage oft is taken,  By those who can be lazy, Their muscles, have forsaken. It's easier to do so, Than exert their muscle power, To cause them, least exhaustion,  To keep the door ajar. So there are very few now, Who act'lly PULL the door, Button is much easier, Their muscle use, - a chore.

The first wedding that I recall, Was as a six year old, Mum knew I would have been best 'fit'  I did, as I was told. I had been asked to take a role In wedding, I was 'game', It should have been the one 'bove me Since, he held groom's surname However, mum knew that I was To assist, MUCH  more willing  The day was one I'll ne'er forget, I found it so fulfilling    Another cousin'd take part too Bridesmaid, cous'n of groom,  His mother's sister's eldest girl,    'Twas also MY day to 'bloom' Was driven to the bridesmaids home My aunt and uncle, too HER sister, young  ( aged ten to twelve, )  With pride, went "ga ga goo"          Aft' getting out of car, I heard, 'Twas said with loving warmness "Ach mammy, look at wee Colin Isn't he gorgeous?"                                                   ...

  Laying in the corridor Of hospital, Grand River, Numbness in my lower jaw Fine otherwise, no fever. Had numbness been on one side A 'T.I.A.' ( or 'stroke')? Might have caused me more concern, For, otherwise, healthy bloke. Blood samples have been taken, Jaw numbness does remain, Otherwise, I feel okay, Not knowing, is the pain. Will I get a wink of sleep? Or will THAT only come Whene'er they tell me to return To residence, called home? And will THAT be in morning Or some time in-between, Whene'er that furniture, called "bed" By my eyes, will be seen?        * * * * * * * * * * * * *  All night on 'guerney', corridor Of hospital, I've been, Know not the time, hoping, today, By doctor, will be seen. Did see the doctor, given pills Will start tomorrow morn., On dosages and trusting that I'll soon be, as, when born.

 The building I reside in Demolished, soon, will be, In order to expand in size To care for more, like me. They want to build up higher So must, deeper go too, Stability to be ensured, Firm base for structure, due.  So all of us, the res'dents, To other care homes, go; To wait, until we all have passed, Would really be too slow. The process, got me thinking, Of living life, each day, In order for OUR pers'nal growth WE must put things away. Get rid of pers'nal hindrance Preventing growing strong, WE cannot grow while we're pulled down By things that don't belong.

  My dad was a hard worker, Sole earner,  twenty years, So mum could raise their children, All six of us "wee dears" As tradesman in a company, He, private work did, too, So they could "make ends meet" each month, Buy food, pay bills, when due. Aft. 'rriving home and eating, The paper, lifted he, Soon after, came the snoring, Was tired, 'twas plain to see. If television channels  (Back then 'twas two, then three) We're changed, amid the snoozing, Instantly woke, did he.  "Hey, I was watching that" came out, When told, asleep, he'd court, "I was just resting my eyes" Was always his retort.

      WALKING COMPANION     .  . .   I have a walking partner who, When on those sunny days, If I, outside, go treading, With me, he often plays.   Sometimes he lags behind me, Or he goes on ahead, At other times beside me, Though, not a word is said.   He's very quiet at all times, Whenever he does show, Though I have never really To him, ev'n said 'hello'.   Should I e'er walk at fast pace,  As I am apt to do, He does keep up; and with me Will stay, the whole time through. Though, unlike me, he never Gets out of breath, or tired, Just tags along, a-nearby, His stamina, admired.      He doesn't like damp weather, Or when the sky has cloud. He must remain at home, then, As if he's not allowed.    He is the quiet companion, A friend sure,  NOT a foe, And if you haven't guessed by now? His name is "My Shadow".

  To the tune "where do I go from here" (Jim Reeves) Where did the summer go? Why's winter always slow? How I wish the longer days could last. Too long, the colder days, Wrapped up, cause no sun's rays, Way too soon the summer season's past. Love to sit in sunshine, To show some colour, rouge, Shorts, the only clothing, The scent of morning dews. Skies so blue, no clouds of grey, Bulky clothing's not in way, Just the rays of sunshine, on your face. Sandy beaches call your name, Getting colour, is the game, Gloom full winter mem'ries to erase. Days which linger longer, Before the evening falls, Children, soak up sunshine, Then hear their parents calls. Everyone seems happy, then, Grouchiness stays in 'the pen' Summer makes ecstatic faces glow, Thankful that, there's no more sign of snow.

  No longer am I slim and trim Since move to "Studios" Though while the midriff has now grown, I YET, can see my toes. The old adage of "middl'age spread", Has raised it's ugly face, The food they're serving every meal Is settling in ONE place. Since I have also, now, retired, Once active, now, not so, The power derived from food, thus has  No place , therefore, to go. So it just stays where it does land, Not turned to energy, It can't be hidden now, alas, It's plain, for ALL to see.

It's strange how our perspectives, Do change, a s time does pass,  Espec'lly when it comes to age, Whene'er it, does amass. Recall a distant memory, When very young, was I, Was not 'llowed to forget it, Reminded, by and by. Was with mum, in our village, Where church friend, we did meet, A compliment was given, I jumped in, with both feet. "You're looking great today Mrs. Ross"  To mum, that  friend,   said free, "Don't feel it" mum said, adding on, "For an old girl like me" "YOU'RE not old" she did respond, MY r'sponse, made mum forlorn, "My mummy IS old", I replied, "She was 40, when I was born" Was ne'er 'llowed t'forget that quip, 'Millstone' 'round my neck, hung, It's strange how, 60 + years aft., The '40's' WERE quite young.

                        F ascinatingly awesome,                         A ttentive, to the core,                         T here, whenever needed,                         H elping’s,  NOT a chore,                         E xercising loving care,                         R eady, willing, always there,                         S teadfast, sure, in all you do,                         D utifully, men like you                          A re rare, it seems,...

 Most people treat their friendships  With respect,  love and care,  While others, sadly, their idea ,  " If I'm there, then, I'm there".  There's nothing more frustrating,  Plans cancelled, unaware,  To meet up with a dear "friend"  To find, they didn't care.  That on the date appointed,  Something better, arose,  No "sorry" text or phone call,  A NEW date, they would chose. You now feel unimportant, Of toys, t he old 'rag doll'   "If nothing else upcoming, You'll do" as second call.      Composed after being stood up by a 'friend' who had made the appointment the evening prior.

  Prayer topics for this evening, It seems, a  growing list,  The 'needy', 'frail', 'discouraged' Those, we need to assist. To bring before the Father, E'en though HE  knows,  full well, Exactly WHAT will happen, Discouragement, dispel. ------------------------------------------ " They STILL are on the prayer list?  They've not been answered YET? " . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Our timing is not HIS time, OUR job, to ne ' er forget. Don't think of them, 'a burden', A 'needy,  hopeless soul' Our job, is NOT in judgement, HIS, aim, - to make things whole. Galatians 6:9 New International Version  9  Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. **many people encourage for a while, until, they seem to think that the person/people requiring the constant  encouragement THRIVE on being needy, enjoying the attention; THEN they stop assisting/thinking of /even ...

   'Tis said that when we pass beyond   The realms of mortal earth,   For SOME 'twill be a toxic time,   For others, joyful mirth. There are TWO destinations, On earth, we get to choose, One, guarantees a better life, Th'other, ALL will loose. 'Tis sad, that for the latter, No escape, can be made, So BEST to choose, and EARLY, The cost's already paid. Since we have zero option, When our last breath, we take, THAT choice is for 'Creator', Who, in th'womb, did us make. Thus, if it has just left us, Before OUR choice was made, Your choice neglect, was costly, Eternal price, be paid.  

                                                                                           The "WhatNot"  H ello there young Callum,                    'Twas passed on to my care,     Great nephew, l'm told,                                     1991,          Enclosed in this package.                      And while it WAS painted,     Is something that's OLD.                        I stripped it - NOT fun.   A fine piece of furniture,       ...

   Bereaved, without the funeral,  Is how I'm feeling now,  This time of separation,   I WILL get through, somehow.   With people  all around me,  To mend my broken heart,  My friends at church and family,  Latter, oceans apart,  This separation needed,  In context, things, to go,  They say that 'absense', it does make  The heart, to fondness, grow.  It feels like a bereavement,  Without the actual death,  I wonder if we'll aye re-meet,  Me and Elizabeth? No words can heal the sorrow Nor ease the aching pain, Just know one thing for certain, We'll re-unite again. And then 'twill be for ever In that grand Heaven above, But now, as MY heart's breaking, I'm  needing  all your love.  

  Abundant in LOVE, CONCERN and TRUST, In HOSPITALITY, An overflowing waterfall That EVERYONE can see. Niagara Falls is nothing,  T'the CONSTANT  CARE, here, shown, By such a somewhat, SMALL church, A trait, others should hone. 'Tis NOT, shown by a FEW, though, The church, as ONE, unites And EVERYONE's included In raising 'caring heights' Have experienced it OFTEN, In such a short time here, It isn't any wonder  We hold your hearts, so dear. So THANK-YOU ALL, again, I cry, With LOVING, JOYFUL tears, Appreciate your tenderness,  'Tis endless, it appears. [Generations Community Church]  

“See that you say nothing to anyone; but go your way, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing those things which Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” Mark 1: 44 Whene'er I had my surgery In 1991, It was midweek, a Wednesday, When everything was done. Was given days t'recover So it was PROVED, 'twas good On Sunday afternoon, informed, To go back home, I could. So when my parents vis'ted As DAILY did, to me, Our church service that evening Right there, I'd plan to be. Recalling words in Gospel "Go show yourself to priest And offer for your cleansing......" What I could DO, 'twas th'least. HIS implications, given,  Of faith and submission,  Provided PROOF to "family" Of HIS great compassion. So up to church was driven,  Sat with my parents then, Yearned to be in the choirstall To sing there, once again. Just prior to service starting, As normal,  choir,  came in, I noticed some did see me, Then witnessed 'whisperin...

                                            ********* NOT ONE OF MINE ********* Should You Go First by  Albert K. Rowswell Should you go first and I remain To walk the road alone, I'll live in memory's garden, dear,  With happy days we've known. In Spring I'll watch for roses red When fades the lilac blue, In early Fall when brown leaves call I'll catch a glimpse of you. Should you go first and I remain For battles to be fought, Each thing you've touched along the way Will be a hallowed spot. I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile, Though blindly I may grope, The memory of your helping hand Will buoy me on with hope. Should you go first and I remain To finish with the scroll, No length'ning shadows shall creep in To make this life seem droll. We've known so much of happiness, We've had our cup of joy And memory is one gift of God That death cannot destroy. Should yo...