My Quilt

I had this little quilt
My Grandma made for me
She said it was all filled with love
And she gave it just to me

She said when I would use it
She would be holding me tight
So I made sure I cuddle with it
Each and every night

My Grandma always loved me
With all of her heart
But now I feel kind of sad
Because we have to be apart

But I know she is with me
Every time I cuddle in my quilt
Because I can feel her hugging
Me oh, so tight

Each and every night

©Donna J. Kramer

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To Bear Knot

Now this is just a silly tale
I'm sure you will agree,
but if it makes you smile a spell,
then that sure pleases me!

It's only just a play on ''pun'',
the dictionary shows.
It's only for a little fun,
and this is how it goes:

''It's not easy to teach a bear
how to tie a knot.
Although your hands may be bare,
the bear's paws are not.

Just bear in mind, the bear's paws
are full of furry hair;
this very reason is because...
he is a grizzly bear!

For him, the bear, to tie this knot...
is more than he can bear,
because it's fingers he has not,
but claws to claw his lair.

Now,  here you need to bear some hope
that the bear must bear in mind,
that to tie a knot with rope,
is not as good as twine.
To tie a knot with string won't cope,
the strands are just too fine.

So, you must always bear in mind
that your bare hands cannot:
tie any knots with fishing line
if your finger has a knot!

And be aware that the bear
cannot bear in mind,
that this is all you can bear
with line of any kind!

So, why bother any bear
with tying knots at all?
the bear does not really care,
and on you, the burdens fall!''

©William E. Hardison 
copyrights recorded

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My Brother, My Friend

I miss you my brother, my friend
We were together right ‘til the end.
And we’ll be together again I know
For where you are, I most surely will go.
You were taken from us much too soon,
Far into the Heavens and past the moon.
Yes, you were taken from us, I know not why
But on Angel wings you surely must fly.

As we once watched over each other
We’ll do so surely once again.
For you weren’t just my brother
You were also my very dear friend.

©~Ralph Cotton

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Attic Treasures


In the darkness of the evening,
To an attic filled with dust,
We climbed the spiral staircase,
Turned the doorknob covered with rust.

The door swung slowly open,
Creaky hinges woefully moaned,
As if to speak objections,
Like an old arthritic bone.

We saw the dark formation,
In the recess of the room,
We stood in total silence,
As if, it was a tomb.

But moving bravely forward,
We lit a candle on the shelf,
There before our eyes,
Loomed Grandma's hidden wealth.

We spent hours in the attic,
Reading notes, tucked in some books.
They were memos of her thoughts and hopes.
She must have known we'd take a look!

There were handkerchiefs and jewelry,
Hand-held mirrors made of gold.
Yet none compared to the book I held,
Nor, would the book be sold.

Its value wasn't measured,
By worldly treasures we had viewed,
But by the revelation gleaned,
As we read the verses through.

Weathered pages, from the years long past,
And many times of use,
Drew us back for years to come,
To read the Lord's Good News.

Within that age-old trunk, we found,
Love… for humanity.
Love so great, He gave His Son,
To set the whole world free.

Too, we realized at last,
Just what our grandma gave,
When she left that trunk for us to find,
On this cold and wintry day.

© 2003 Marie Williams

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