GOLDEN DAYS

My eyes are drawn to distant hill
it seems they’ll never get their fill,
Autumn colours all ablaze
peeking out from morning haze.

The trees put on their final show
adorned in splendor e’er they go,
to sleep, as winter winds do sweep
their fallen beauty into heaps.

Little creatures all a-scurry
gather winter stores before the flurry,
the tiny pools of dew their drinks
soon to freeze to mini rinks.

The crows announce with plaintive call
the golden glory of the fall,
ducks and geese as they wing south
bring oohs and aahs from out my mouth.

The many sights and sounds and smells
bring joy within my heart to dwell,
my lips give voice to thanks and praise
to God the Creator, of Golden Days.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Sept. 22, 1994

MYSTERY OF LOVE

God’s plan for our salvation
so long ago took place,
He gave us little Mary
to lead us from disgrace.

She was born so pure, Immaculate
more perfect than the sweetest flower,
that grows in the Father’s Kingdom
beauty increasing, with each hour.

The Spirit dwelled within her soul
drawn by this virgin pure,
and told her oh so many things
from all evil did obscure.

Of heavenly things her knowledge grew
with the dew of the Father’s love,
fresh as a rose in the morning
was this mystery of love.

His designs for her were special
she was to be the perfect one,
the pure and sweetest cradle
for Jesus, His only Son.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Sept. 07,1994