Mary's Poetry
This poem is dedicated to Mary's
children, Cynthia and Jeff
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Wish
you were here
I
can just see her, walking on the shores of heaven
Praising the Lord, watching the tide roll in
Friends that have gone on, Oh how I miss you so
And somehow I know if you could, you'd let me know
That your doing fine, and it doesn't hurt anymore
Things couldn't be better, and Heaven is worth waiting for
That you miss me too until then, you'll be praying for me
And I know if you could talk to me now
Here's what you'd say to me
Wish you were here
It's such a beautiful place
Wish you were here
Nothing but clear sunny days , it never rains
and no one complains, and we haven't seen a tear
We're having a great time,
Wish you were here
I can just see them, walking on the shores together
Their talking with Jesus, safe and secure in his love
Friends and love ones, walking in Heavenly peace
And I know if they could talk to me know
Here's what they 'd say to me
Wish you were here
It's such a beautiful place
Wish you were here
Nothing but clear sunny days, it never rains
and no one complains, and we haven't seen a tear,
We're having a great time
Wish you were here
Well it never rains, and no one complains
and we haven't seen a tear
Oh we're having a great time
And we wish you were here
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These
are some poems/songs that were written by Mary Stuart and
taken
from Mary's book "Both of Me" ...
I
live my life in a moment,
the moment of my years,
A
grain of sand on a beach so wide;
and
ever the mighty ocean tide,
Sweeps
away the footprints of each passerby,
So
very small am I.
Sweet
is to lie
Upon
a grassy hillside,
Close
my eyes and feel
A
sun that's shining everywhere.
It
warms a world that
every blade of grass can share.
For
a whistler on a windride,
It
is lonely, lonely there.
A
thrill to fly
Alon
ga strange new highway,
Birds
are going my way,
Wind
fingers in my hair.
I'm
flying by,
Music
trails behind goes
Blowing
through my mind knows
It's
lonely, lonely there.
Cynthia
lives in a yellow balloon
full
of sunlight, sunlight.
She
sees the world through a yellow balloon,
shining
bright.
In
her yellow balloon, when it thinks it's
the
moon, she goes flying by,
You
can't tell a balloon,
When
it thinks it's the moon,
You're
too high.
Cynthia
lives in a yellow balloon
full
of starlight, star bright.
She
says we all live in different balloons,
and
she's right. Yes, she's right.
When
her yellow balloon is the sun and the moon,
she
goes flying by.
You
can't tell a balloon
that's
the sun and the moon
You're
too high.....I wouldn't try.
A
gentle wind blows where my Cynthia glows
in
the sky.
I
used to see a mountain, rising soft and blue,
When
everything was easy and all I had to do
Was
step across the shadowline
to
make a soft blue mountain mine,
And
I was sure of you.
I
don't recall how many times we reached
to
touch the sky,
We
ran to catch a rainbow, but we never could;
No
one told me why.
I
don't recall how many times
the
two of us have tried
To
float across the river in a box of wood.
But
I know I cried, how many times I cried.
I
still can see the mountain, rising soft and blue,
The
climbing wasn't easy, but what I know is true;
The
mountain rising far away is made of rock
it's
cold and gray,
And
I'm not sure of you.
No,
I'm not sure of you.
Looking
out my window,
when
the sun is shining high,
I
can see a sparrow flying by; and a breeze,
I
can see it bend the trees.
People
come, people go,
Some
I've never seen before,
But
they live behind each door.
They're
part of me, my reality
Is
the place I see.
Looking
out my window,
when
the moon is shining white,
I
can see the yellow squares of light.
Dark
and still, just beyond my window sill
Shadows
come, shadows go.
Then
my window, as I pass, as become
a
looking-glass.
My
face I see; my reality
Inside
of me.
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