The Things Inside

I try to hold it back but it comes right out
It makes me want to go around and shout
It makes me feel all alone
Even though I am in my home

Run away, says the voice inside
But I know I can't just run and hide
I try to feel their love and light
But all I feel is anger and spite

Help me, help me, but no one hears
My call that seems to never reach their ears
They walk away from me
And no one seems to see

The only one who hears and sees
Is the one who made the birds and bees
He sees me in my great despair
And treats me with such tender care

Come, come, is the Savior's call
But sometimes all I can do is fall
He carries me through sorrows deep
I give my soul for Him to keep

Patience, patience along the way
Is what He gives me every day
He gives me without reward
Far greater things than a sword

By Domonique

(She said it just came to her this morning. When I asked if this is how she really feels, she said, "yes".)

Nature and Senses

I can see all the things around me
I can hear with two ears a bee
I taste with my mouth yummy berries
I smell with my nose scarlet red cherries
I feel the leaves falling from the tree

By Domonique

(written because of a part of a lesson in The Good and the Beautiful, Level 8,
Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller portion)

Happy Birthday, Jerry

As sweet as a berry
Is my amazing Jerry.
She loves me to a great measure.
Her love to me is greater than treasure.

by Domonique

(written for Jerry's birthday which is Oct 9)

BIRDS

Blue feathers

I love.

Rainbow daisies

Dancing around

Singing songs.

By Naomi

(The Good and the Beautiful, Level 2, Lesson 29)

BIRDS

Beautiful and blue

Indigo and brown

Red or purple

Dark and light

So many pretty birds.

By Camdilyn

(The Good and the Beautiful, Level 2, Lesson 29)

 Poor Dead Bob (sung to Three Blind Mice, more or less)

Poor Dead Bob. Poor Dead Bob.
See how he runs. Not at all.
He lays so still on the side of the road,
Not moving a muscle at all.
I guess he should have watched out for the car.
Poor Dead Bob. Poor Dead Bob.

Three Blind Mice. Three Blind Mice.
See how they run. See how they run.
They all run after the farmers wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
Did you ever see such a site in your life.
Three Blind Mice. Three Blind Mice.

It fits well in my own way. We made this up after Marissa ran over a skunk while driving on Washington to pick up Xander for seminary. It probably happened the fall semester of 2018, soon after she received her permit, but I don't know the exact date.

The Resiliency of Two

 It started like a normal day
They all start like that
My family
And my neighbor
In the backyard for dinner cooked over the fire

My little sisters playing as little sisters do
Having fun
The baby with them - but she's not a baby
Not anymore
But she's the youngest, so
Even though she's two now, she's still the baby

Everything was going fine
Until she fell
Forward
Into the firepit
And screamed

I wasn't there
I didn't see it happen
I only heard about it later
I never saw what her hands looked like
Burned, blistered
I only saw them covered in bandages
She wouldn't use them
Because it hurt, or because she was scared
We weren't sure

While the bandages were on
She was fine
But when the bandages had to e changed
She remembered, and it hurt again
She was brave, though
She held so still
Surprised us with the things she said
Things like, "holy crap!"
When did she learn to say that?
We laughed

She healed fast
Pink, new skin where the old had burned away
Delicate, tender, but healing
And then she could suck her thumb again
A small thing, but we rejoiced
She could sleep easier
And she wasn't scared to hurt it more

Now you wouldn't even know
Nothing more than scars
And even those are fading
Will probably disappear completely
With time
I have often watched her in awe
She has recovered well
And I wonder
At the resiliency of two

By Emily Roy

(She wrote this yesterday for her Young Adult Literature class at Delta.)