MOTHER’S KITCHEN

Through all our years of living
in sorrows, joys and pain,
there was a place in mother’s kitchen
where composure could be gained.

It was a large and homely room
aglow by oil lamp’s light,
where spelling, math and catechism
were practiced every night.

We received so many warm hearts there
for dinners, cards and chats,
long evenings spent in joy and laughter
a place for all to hang their hats.

After long hours spent in ceaseless tasks
when we were tucked away,
her hands would knit and sew and stitch
to keep us all in fine array.

After each and every evening meal
before we went to play,
we’d all kneel in mother’s kitchen
our rosary to pray.

Just inside the front door
in its place of honor there,
was our home’s seat of wisdom
our mother’s rocking chair.

The memories will linger on
written in our hearts to stay,
of the love in mother’s kitchen
for forever and a day.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Jan. 22, 2001

HAVEN OF THE WORD

An angel led me to your home
one bright and shining day,
a place of light and worship
where loving hearts await.

I was met with open arms
God’s love upon each face,
I was accepted without question
knowing I had found a place.

A haven where God’s Living Word
can freely be expressed,
no judgement e’er forthcoming
when my beliefs profess.

Oh Holy Spirit ever reign
on this haven of The Word,
pour forth your gifts upon them
through them, let Your love be heard.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Jan 20, 2001

I WANT TO BE YOURS

I want to be Yours Lord Jesus
for now and evermore,
I want to be Yours Lord Jesus
my desire grows more and more.

I open my hands Lord Jesus
and reach up to the sky,
to receive Your gifts Lord Jesus
from Your storehouse there on high.

I place my heart Lord Jesus
on Your altar everyday,
take all that’s there Lord Jesus
take it all oh Lord I pray.

For all I have Lord Jesus
is from Your mighty hand,
renew me now Lord Jesus
bring me to Your Holy Plan.

Where I will walk Lord Jesus
heart to heart and hand in hand,
on streets of gold and gladness
forever dwelling in Your land.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Jan. 19, 2001

RISING GLORY

The day in frozen beauty wakes
in the east the rising sun partakes,
a world all cold, beauty adorned
blushing tree tops still, salute the morn.

Roof tops in their frosty dress
with remnants of the night address,
the rising glory of the sun
to put night’s shadows on the run.

All around, each jewelled and dazzling branch
bedecked in diamonds, not by chance,
touched faithfully by the Father’s Love
beauty sent to all from His Throne above.

He shows to all His constant care
He let’s us know He’s always there,
We thank You Lord, we give You praise
the Giver of each new-born day.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Jan. 12, 2001