Mom
My Mom was a good friend
was kind and gentle
was a good examplewas a fine cook
was a good singer
was a very good teacher
was strict with love
was loving to many,was generous
was sweet and huggable
was a Believer
was a nurse to us
was full of wisdom
was humerous
was a good listner
was fair to a large family
was forever praying
was strong to the end and went to heaven ,
with Dignity and Greetings to Dad @CJF
My Dad
God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle's flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so, He called it ... Dad
~Author unknown~(1899-1973,Dad Abram S Friesen)
Realize
Do we realize?What do others see?Do they see my Lord?
Do they just see me?
Do I shine forth His mercy?
Do I shine forth His grace?
Do they just see me
or, my Lord face to face?
Do they see His compassion?
Do they feel His love?
Is it all of this world
or that from above?
Do they hear His voice
or that of my own?
Does the Lord reap the harvest
from the seeds that I've sown?
Do I fall to my knees
crying out in prayer
consoling the broken
and those in despair?
Do I reach out to all
no matter the cost
Spreading the word
and seeking the lost?
Do I shine forth His glory
for all to see
all that He's done
here inside me?
On the day of Our Father
when He takes His stand
will He say, "I don't know you"
or will He say "Here take my hand."?
BY ForthrightI
Luv Ole BarnsA PERSPECTIVE ABOUT OLD BARNSOnly years of standing in the weather,
bearing the storms and scorching sun,
only that can produce beautiful barn woodA stranger came by the other day with an offer that set me to thinking.
He wanted to buy the old barn that sits out by the highway.
I told him right off he was crazy.
he was a city type, you could tell by his clothes, his car,
his hands, and the way he talked.
He said he was driving by and saw that beautiful barn
sitting out in the tall grass and wanted to know if it was for sale.
I told him he had a funny idea of beauty.
Sure, it was a handsome building in its day.
But then, there's been a lot of winters pass with their snow
and ice and howling wind.
The summer sun's beat down on that old barn till all the paint's gone,
and the wood has turned silver gray.
now the old building leans a good deal, looking kind of tired.
Yet, that fellow called it beautiful.
that set me to thinking.
I walked out to the field and just stood there, gazing at that old barn.
The stranger said he planned to use the lumber to line the walls of his den
in a new country home he's building down the road.
He said you couldn't get paint that beautiful.
Only years of standing in the weather,
bearing the storms and scorching sun,
only that can produce beautiful barn wood.
It came to me then. We're a lot like that, you and I.
Only it's on the inside that the beauty grows with us.
Sure we turn silver gray too... and lean a bit more than
we did when we were young and full of sap.
But the Good Lord knows what He's doing.
And as the years pass He's busy using the hard weather of our lives,
the dry spells and the stormy seasons to do a job of beautifying
our souls that nothing else can produce.
And to think how often folks holler because they want life easy!
They took the old barn down today and hauled it away
to beautify a rich man's house.
And I reckon someday you and I'll be hauled off
to Heaven to take on whatever chores the Good Lord
has for us on the Great Sky Ranch.
And I suspect we'll be more beautiful
then for the seasons we've been through here...
and just maybe even add a bit of beauty to our Father's house.
May there be peace within you today.
May you trust God that you are
exactly where you are meant to be.
And...
I do sincerely thank God
or my wonderful friends and family
who love me even though,,
I show signs of weathering.
To realize
The value of a sister/brother
Ask someone
Who doesn't have one.To realize
The value of ten years:
Ask a newly
Divorced couple.
To realize
The value of four years:
Ask a graduate.
To realize
The value of one year:
Ask a student who
Has failed a final exam.
To realize
The value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.
To realize
The value of one month:
Ask a mother
Who has given birth to
A premature baby.
To realize
The value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.
To realize
The value of one minute:
Ask a person
Who has missed the train, bus or plane.
To realize
The value of one second:
Ask a person
Who has survived an accident.
Time waits for no one.
Treasure every moment you have.
You will treasure it even more when
You can share it with someone special.
To realize the value of a friend or family member:
LOSE ONE.
ONE15 Mar 2008 19:15
One SONG can spark a moment
One TREE can start a foresOne FLOWER can wake the dream
One BIRD can herald springOnet SMILE begins a friendship
One HANDCLASP lifts a soul
One STAR can guide a ship at sea
One WORD can frame the goal
One VOTE can change a nation
One SUNBEAM lights a room
One CANDLE wipes out darkness
One LAUGH will conquer gloom
One STEP must start each journey
One WORD must start a prayer
One HOPE will raise our spirits
One TOUCH can show you care
One VOICE can speak with wisdom
One HEART can know what is true
One LIFE can make a difference.
I know this because of YOU.
~~~~~~¢¾~~~~~~
Prose"Heavenly Father,We come before you today
To ask your forgiveness and To seek your direction and guidance.
We know Your Word says,"Woe to those who call evil good"
But that is exactly what we have done.We have lost our spiritual equilibrium
And reversed our values.We have exploited the poor and
Called it the lottery.
We have rewarded lazynes,And called it welfare.
We have killed our unborn and called it choice.
We have shot abortionists And called it justifiable.
We have neglected to discipline,Our children and called it
Building self esteem.We have abused power
And called it politics.We have coveted our neighbour's
Possessions and called it ambition
AdviceAn old farmer's advice
Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong. Keep skunks and bankers and lawyers at a distance. Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
Words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled. Meanness don't jes' happen overnight.
Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.
Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.
It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.
You cannot unsay a cruel word.
Every path has a few puddles.
When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.
The best sermons are lived, not preached.
Most of the stuff people worry about ain't never gonna happen
anyway.
Don't judge folks by their relatives.
Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think
back, you'll enjoy it a second time.
Don't interfere with somethin' that ain't botherin' you none.
Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.
If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop
diggin'.
Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.
The biggest troublemaker, you'll probably ever have to deal with,
watches you from the mirror every mornin'.
Always drink upstream from the herd.
Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from
bad judgment.
Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin'
it back in.
If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try
orderin' somebody else's dog around.
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly.
Leave the rest to God.Flyball The high fly ball ,arches out above left field,hangs there in the sky
outblazing the sun
while fifty thousand heads swings and cry
"Over the wall! Over the wall!"
then hold, fixed and dumb
as the ball drops
down and down, a dead bird
into a waiting glove
and there you have it: the song,
the flight, the perilous whisper of truth
or of love or possibly of faith
then the descent
and the end of the game!
TELL Tell Jesus when the burden seems too great for you to bear :Go, lay it at the feet of Christ, and know that He will care;And tell Him all the little things that come to cloud your way,The puzzles and perplexities that trouble you today. Tell Jesus all there is to tell about your daily needs,About the dim uncertainties through which your pathway leads;About the cherished hopes that lie lifeless at your feet,The golden dreams left unfulfilled, the labor incomplete. If you could know how tenderly He makes our cares His on,You would not stand apart again and bear this pain alone;You would not miss the joy and peace of walking at His side,Of finding tempest changed for calm and sorrow sanctified. I tell Him all the story now, no other friend can be,In morning light or evening shade, what Jesus is to me;His human heart is still the same today as yesterday,And in His love I find my rest, and in His strength my stay.CJFFaith The tree we see,is it to be?
Faith The tree we see,is it to be?or is it just what we see?
The sound we hear,is it near
or is it just upon our ear?
The wind we feel,is it strong,
weak,chilly or hot?
It may be what we forgot!
Its our perception,to observe
some wrong,some right,some
straight some curve.
The Spirit within seems so real,
like the tree,the wind,the sound,
actually,its all Faith,Faith abound!
May all this seem a simple thing,
to love,to care,to share,
a simple daily Prayer
©cjf
Game on We liked the game,so fast,so quick,so short, Time for mistakes are few,reaction,reaction we trained to react in situations,over and over again
In the hope we remembered,naturally ,at ,and in game time!
Dress sharp,look good,feel good,do good,think sharp,
Be ahead of one and all ,avoid the conflict of error from within
Inside are two--beasts,good and bad,let the good guide you thru the game
What if he bunts-who plays it-who covers first,the shift
a nifty move of clocklike precision,like an army drill,
flawless and beautiful to watch!Ahhhh--one out,two to go
Fans applaud in early hype,tension,competitive,even hints of hate
Merchants versus Lads,green machine vs blue and gold!
Defence and pitching vs offence,Lads had the first
Our coaches said,score one and play tuff,Zach or Red will hold'em down!!! © CJF
Pie was a beautiful fall day To Edmonton was our way,
Sister Helen,a visit to pay
Also Pete and Marian,did ask to sup with them
A plan we loved,always a surprised meal is her gem.
We did hitch a ride to St,Albertville,
Sister drove as a young one would,
We arrived and all was well
could smell the supper doing well
we had heard of Marian;s Apple pie,
served to many friends and neighbors
Helen said it was good,from their own trees,
perhaps a dozen pies were made
so we ate the meal ,with the greatest of ease
knowing apple pie was to be served ,please.
I,noticed Marian,not quite at ease,when she brought the pie plate,
there was one plate,perhaps for me.
Some more would come,for the other four or three,
She remarked,thats all the pie,I am sorry,
I moved the fork,and there it was,
in all its glory
the smallest piece,I;ve ever seen,to share with my Queen!
She had her legit reasons ,I am sure!
After we went on a computer Safari
which we enjoyed so much, to see Wally,Sarah,and the clan
In Africa,where Sarah works,we saw thin and hungry children,
smiling,playing,new unies from Peters school,
suddenly the pie was not a thought,
we all know ,to defrost one,is what Marian forgot!!!!!!
CJF2005 © The names have been changed to protect the innocent...
TuffBETWEEN A CHINOOK AND A BLIZZARD
THERE’S A HILL THEY CALL WESTCASTLE PARK
WITH THE CHALLENGE OF VERTICLE POWDER
THAT SHOULDN’T BE KEPT IN THE DARK
IT’S GOT GREEN RUNS THAT’S BLUE AND BLUE RUNS THAT’S BLACK
AND BLACK RUNS THAT’S STRAIGHT OUT OF HELL
A T-BAR THAT ROBS THE STRENGTH FROM YOUR LEGS
SAY THE FOLKS WHO DON’T SKI VERY WELL
BUT FOR DOWNHILLERS SEEKING ADVENTURE
WHO CAN HANDLE THE CRUD WHEN IT BLOWS
THERE’S NO NEED TO LOOK ANY FURTHER
THAT THE HILL THAT’S RIGHT UNDER YOUR NOSE
THE DUKE AND THE QUE AND THE SHOTGUN
ARE RUNS THAT PUT TEETH IN YOUR GRIN
OR THE BURN OR TRAPPER AT SUNDOWN
CAN BE BETTER THAN MANY A SIN
YOU CAN CRUISE IN THE NORTH AND CARVE IN THE SOUTH
AND LEAVE TIME FOR NINE TO FIVE
TURN CATWALKS TO LYNX AND WOLVERINES TO WEASELS
IT’S AMAZING WHAT YOU CAN SURVIVE
NOW THE HILL IS PATROLLED FOR ITS’ SAFETY
BY A GROUP THAT ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR TRY
WITH TEACHERS AND KEEPERS AND COWBOYS
SURE HANDS THAT KNOW HOW TO GET BY
THE CANADIAN SKI PATROL SYSTEM
HAS A CURIOUS PRIDE FOR THIS LOT
WHO PATROL FROM THE TOP OF THE CASTLE
WHERE MANY A BODY WOULD NOT
PATROLLING THIS HILL TAKES SOME EFFORT
PULLING SLEDS PACKED FULL OF SUPPLIES
RESPONDING TO CALLS FROM THE PUBLIC
WHO’S SKIING HAS CAUSED SOME DEMISE
ADMINISTERING FIRST AID IS THEIR CALLING
THEY’RE MEDICS MOUNTED ON SKIS
DEVOTING THEIR TIME TO THEIR TRAINING
AND WORKING FOR BINGO HALL FEES
WHEN SKIINGS ALL DONE AND SWEEP’S DOWN
THEY GATHER AT NIGHT IN THE HUT
WITH STORIES AND LAUGHTER AND APPETITES
FOR GREAT FOOD SERVED POTLUCK
YOU MAY HEAR THAT WESTCASTLE IS CLOSING
IT’S APPARENT NO PROFITS ARE MADE
BUT IF TALENT AND TRY HAVE THE LAST WORD
THE PATROL WILL GIVE MORE THAN FIRST AID
FOR THE HILL AND PATROL ARE TOO PRECIOUS
TO LET DIE WITHOUT EVEN A FIGHT
AND VOLUNTEERING MANY HOURS OF TOIL
IS NO STRANGER TO SKI PATROL TYPE
SO I DOUBT THEY’LL UNDALLY THEIR RESOLVE
NO MATTER HOW GRIM THAT IT LOOKS
TO MAINTAIN THE CASTLE OF SKI HILLS
IN THE MIDDLE OF BLIZZARDS AND CHINOOKS
BJS/94
Design by Diamond Hitch Acres.
Tense Game seven,series tied,man on third,
full count on batter--Coach ,calls TIME
what now?coach points to me,in bullpen,
pitching change,in I went,to finish tis war
Instructions:throw your warmup pitches hard
when ump calls to play,throw your change-up!!!!!!
what,I have no control over it,are you sure coach?
catcher Pod ,stretch and other infielders urged me on
you can you can,think man think put it here
Play,I receive the signal from Pod,sure enough
a change-up is the call,blood,sweat and tears
what am I doing here?a young Mennonite boy
to challenge the big bat stare it down,prepare for the change,
a knuckle ball,in a sweaty hand with short fingers
I bravely took my stance,went into the delivery and I delivered
a Change up,that bounced and hopped to the catcher Pod,
to my surprise,the batter swung ,way ahead and missed,
we won ---what a call coach,what call,too tense for me,
no,no, growing up to face the next challenge. ©CJF
Fall of 1968
HillThere is a place I call home
on sand it stands real tall
I Grasp this white sphere ,called the ball!
Ifollow instructions from the catch
perform a circle of motion
causes the ball ,its speed to fetch !
Once inertia takes place
time to see the batters face
take a swing or take a spill
the mound, my Summerhill ! CJF ©
Barn
While driving along a country road
One day when I was alone
I saw an old barn,in the middle of he field
Looking rundown and so forlorn
The house,once an old homestead
Was gone now after many years
It looked as though it had burnt down
Left behind a chimney of tears
So the barn was really by itself
And I could almost here the sounds
Of what had taken place inside
On this old tried homestead ground
Like I said. it was decapitated
One door hanging by a single nail
Oh I know this huge tired building
Had many interesting stories to tell
The smell was a musky dustiness
From the fields fertile at one time
But that was probably long ago
When they were in their prime
It was then that I noticed
A mother cat with wide eyes
Her kittens cuddled close to her
It was a startling sweet surprise
For this barm was still providing
A place for life to dwell
I smiled then with happiness
My eyes began to swell
So even though it appears
That old barns are no longer of use
We never know what nestles
Beneath its tattered roof !
Perhaps The little things,perhaps the past. perhaps the now, ,
perhaps even the future,linger deep within ones mind quick traffic cut=off,a sharp reply,not a smile,
we rage on!
Deploy the thoughts,and downright beasts,
for me the ducks and barb wire,
send me into a frenzy,like the missile heading for the moon!
One day at a time ,dear Lord,grant me patience,
Please,God, hurry. Seems to come real slow'
You speak before you think,speak before you think,
To learn when to hush,like in radio,we would say,if you want to be a good announcer,shut-up
the truth is,very,silence is golden and should be more,we like to speak as mankind,see thats what makes us different,
from all the other creatures on this earth,ask Pat Robertson,
often we explore it a bit to much and ones foot is in the mouth,
in my case its a Bigfoot!©CJF
Feel
Early herdsman,warning villagers
release you cattle,here I come,
to take them to pasture for the day.
I heard the greyhounds yelping,
the cats are meowing from fresh milk
fed to them by the milkers!
I heard pails thrown against the walls
In anger ,perhaps,at some cow
not co-operating in giving milk!
I would hear the horses jostling ,and having a dust bath,
People yelling instructions to their cows
to behave ,quit swishing the tail!
some would see me at the warning run ,
greet me pleasantly;say I was early,
the crows,magpies,sparrows,so busy,
the odd coyote in the outback.
As I approached the village end,cows were grazing
in the ditches,the gas sounds of nature ,blowing in the wind.,the fresh pie
from cows ,tip toe gently,like hop scotch.,miss them though!
I would herd them to the dugout
for a good gulp of water,big burp,fart and ready to go,
to the pasture to feed, and laze around and gossip,
about the mean milkers and herdsman!!!!! ©CJF
2007 Kiklink ,clang the diesel runs
the doors are banging shut
I hear the garbage cans opening and closing
the driver ,impatient,yells,hurry,I;ll be late
Am coming yells the lady as the doors bang shut.
I hear motorbikes,rumbling and revving
the sounds of hustle and bustle
all going somewhere in a hurray.
the sound of lonesome dogs,left to fend.
police sirens,skate board s at the church steps,
kids crying in pain. teenagers swearing and doping.
I hear less nature,I hear no silence!
I smell rubber burning,from impatient drivers!! ©cjf
Cy Warman Poetry
- WILL THE LIGHTS BE WHITE?
- Oft, when I feel my engine swerve,
As o'er strange rails we fare,
I strain my eyes around the curve
For what awaits us there.
When swift and free she carries me
Through yards unknown at night,
I look along the line to see
That all the lamps are white - The blue light marks the crippled car,
The green light signals slow;
The red light is a danger light,
The white light, "Let her go."
Again the open fields we roam,
And, when the night is fair,
I look up in the starry dome
And wonder what's up there. - For who can speak for those who dwell
Behind the curving sky?
No man has ever lived to tell
Just what it means to die.
Swift toward life's terminal I trend,
The run seems short to-night;
God only knows what's at the end --
I hope the lamps are white.
- THE FLYER
- Across the hill and down the dell,
Past station after station;
The muffled music of the bell
Gives voice to each vibration. - Out o'er the prairie, cold and gray,
There falls a flood of fire,
While orders flash for miles away:
"Take siding for the flyer." - The engine seems to fairly float,
Her iron sinew quiver,
While swift, beneath her throbbing throat,
The rails rush like a river. - Upon the seat the engineer,
Who knows her speed and power,
Sits silently without a fear
At sixty miles an hour.
- CLICKETY CLICKClickety click! as out of town
The engine picks her way;
Where barefoot children, sunburnt brown,
In dusty alleys play.
All the summer, early and late,
And in the summer drear,
A maiden stands at the orchard gate,
And waves at the engineer. He likes to look at her face so fair,
And her homely country dress;
She like to look at the man up there
At the fron of the fast express.
Clickety click! though miles apart,
To her he is always near,
And she feels the click of her happy heart
For the heart of the engineer. Over the river and down the dell,
Beside the running stream,
She hears the clang of the engine-bell --
The whistle's startled scream.
Clickety click! An open switch --
Onward the engine flies.
Clickety click! They're in the ditch!
Oh, angels! hide her eyes!Clickety click, and down the track
The train will dash today;
But what of the ribbons of white and black
The engine wears away;
Clickety click! Oh, worlds apart --
The maiden hangs her head.
There is no click in the maiden's heart --
The engineer is dead.
- THE DESERT MAIL When your feet have strayed from the everglade
To the shore of a shipless sea,
When the bar you've crossed, and at length you're lost
In its hushed immensity;
When you search the wild, with a silence piled
Waist deep, for the desert trail,
There's a distant roar like a sea ashore,
That's the moan of the desert mail.Through the racing years there the engineers
Sit close to the cabin pane,
While they urge their steeds where the white trail leads
Through the land of Little Rain;
Then out behind, on the desert wind,
Blown back like a bridal veil,
Far, dim and gray like the milky way,
Floats the dust of the desert mail.When the gaunt wolves howl where the spirits prowl --
The ghosts of the desert's dead,
And the living, lost, where their trails have crossed
Mill 'round, while the sun paints red
The western skies, as the long day dies
And the stars shine dim and pale;
There's a beacon fair on the desert there --
tThat's