20110924 Mode of Ode

A variety good for three
At its peak from mid June to August
But now in September the weather's cooler
It is sweet as yet.
A shot to remember this water, sugar & fiber
that pleasured us all through the summer.

Hubby's all praises to our fruit growers.
He picks and buys our fruit each day
My heart is grateful I'm off the load.
More time to write this mode of ode.

As we partake this fruit today
With grateful hearts we say
"Thank you Lord for soil and toil."
"Thank you Lord for skill to till."




 

It takes so little to give.

It took too much to want.

This Special Someone paid 

a special price no man can give.

He filled my needs.

He beckoned me,

Go and give.

I gazed at my five loaves and two fishes.

That's all He wanted from me.

He replenished it once and twice

until I realized,

even that is not from me.

"What do I have that's mine to give?" I asked.

"Nothing, my child, because that's all I want of you.

RECEIVE "  He said.

20110920 

Someone emailed me and said that he would want to come visit me.

That he doesn't want to go anywhere but just sit and sip coffee with me.

That is what I so wanted to do with him.

I know it will be more than just a cup of coffee.

I wonder though, how many refills we could have 

    as my thoughts brought me back to the lesser than few times,

    when we really sat and chatted after one simple home cooked dinner

    my Mom prepared.

    It was during one of my visits home.

    We were so young with selves as the only burdens then.

    Oh how I missed the laughter that he brought forth.

I wonder how many more stories I have missed,

     the stories that he is so good at telling.

     He simply has the knack to make me laugh

     as he relates his own ludicrous incidents.

I wonder when if ever we could still have a time.

     A time to just sit, chat and laugh.

     This must be written to let him know.

     In my previous visits to and fro,

     If he still remembers my motto:

     The best is yet to come.

     In reply to his query, 

     if I have found what I was searching for.

    ( I can be cunning, I can be guile but why!

     If you can laugh at your own ludicrous indicents,

     then why can't I?)

     I used to dread the changes in the tones to my reply.

     I myself can distinguish the differences in meaning

     as we both in the end would chorus:

     the best is yet to come,

     knowing that it is the best answer I can give.

   Mind you, my dear little "adopted cousin" Winston.

   After having said that

   for the fifth time in five years' time

   It was never without a tinge of doubt.

  Even God himself had a good laugh

    when I said my teary "I do" at the age of 33;

    well, it was exactly 3 months before my 34th b-day.

    Laughing out so loud.