THE CUP OF LOVE

Jesus is the cup of love,
filled ever to the brim,
whosoever drinks his fill
will live and dwell with Him.

Some take a sip infrequently,
some know not the cup is there,
they die of thirst in darkness,
for Him, no time they spare.

Even if were all to drink,
this saving nectar pure,
the cup would never empty,
love forever will endure.

One sip will never be enough,
you’ll wonder why you long remained,
so thirsty, when the cup of love,
could have eased your fear and pain.

Oh won’t you come, all you who thirst,
and ever drink your fill,
from the eternal cup of love,
new life He will instill.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Feb. 17, 1996

MARY, QUEEN OF THE ANGELS

Your mother’s womb so fragrant
prepared by God’s own hand,
was the cradle of perfection
the fullness of the Father’s Plan.

The essence of your sinless state
did draw the angels nigh,
to glory at your beauty
to hear each child-like sigh.

All through your young and tender years
knowledge of the Love instilled,
into the flower of your heart
yearning to live the Father’s Will.

The angels walked before you
above, below, yes all around,
shielding from all sin and hatred
that did on earth abound.

Your holiness and purity
made you the perfect choice,
to be mother of the Saviour
all the Father’s Love to voice.

The angel came announcing
God’s wish, to pave the way,
to heaven, for His children
who had gone so far astray.

On that hallowed night so long ago
when the Light came to all men,
the angels sang, announced His coming
the One to take away all sin.

And with your gentle passing
as your life on earth was through,
angels carried you to heaven
to be with your love so true.

Jesus placed a crown of glory
upon your head with love profound,
your place in heaven taken
while angels hovered all around.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Feb. 12, 1996

THE RESTING PLACE

Often as I go about
the tasks of everyday,
I hear from somewhere deep inside
a call to stop and pray.

From a little spark it quickly builds
a consuming raging fire,
to go and meet my true love
tell Him of my desire.

I cloak myself in stillness
blot out distractions of the earth,
gaze into His loving eyes
experience re-birth.

From a wilted, dying flower
new sap begins to flow,
no longer bent and gasping
taking on a fresh new glow.

You feed me, oh my Jesus
with all the world can’t give,
You restore me with faith, hope and love
teach me what it takes to live.

The chrysalis begins to crack
far, the problems of the world,
I emerge a bright new creature
new spirit wings unfurl.

Refreshed, invigorated I return
from this peaceful resting place,
my countenance reflecting
the joy and love upon His face.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Feb. 7, 1996

LOVE’S BOUQUET

Each little flower of the Lord
emits its sweet perfume,
and grows from bud to fullness
for the Creator they do bloom.

Each has its own uniqueness
myriad of colour, shape, design,
traits visible and hidden
made by His Hand Divine.

We too, are like the flowers
that bloom out in the field,
emitting all Your graces
to Your breeze, we can but yield.

To all around, we show our beauty
to all our essence, wafts so sweet,
spreading all You give like pollen
making fertile those we greet.

With praise we group together
thirsty for God’s quenching dew,
faces raised like adust blossoms
with Love’s Bouquet, He will bedew.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Feb. 04,1996

LET GO....LET GOD

As I gaze out my window
on a grey and wintry morn,
I spy a solitary leaf
freeze-dried, of beauty shorn.

It trembles in the cold wind
and to its branch does cling,
in loneliness, and frigid fear
of what the future soon will bring.

To let go means to let the wind
blow it where it’s never been,
to places strange and far away
to a new world yet unseen.

I too, at times feel all alone
in a desert dry and cold,
afraid to change or reach out
to a future yet untold.

I stay with feet firm planted
in what is sure and safe,
afraid to step out, into something new
lest my foot, I sorely chafe.

Let go, oh leaf, oh fearful soul
let go so you can live,
in the fullness of the Spirit
take in all the love He gives.

The wind will only blow you
to the Cross on Calvary’s hill,
so you can have eternal life
and fulfill the Father’s Will.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Dec. 15, 1995

SLOWLY, SLOWLY

Slowly, slowly to the manger
all are drawn unto the child,
unto the baby born of Mary
sweet and tender, meek and mild.

Hush now, let us not awaken
the wee one from His blissful sleep,
on bended knee bow low before Him
this vision in our hearts to keep.

Wrapped in swaddling clothes He lays there
on a mattress made of hay,
Mary and Joseph smile their tender greetings
as shepherds come to kneel and pray.

Slowly, slowly kings are coming
from the east their numbers three,
a bright star high up in the heavens
leads them to the place they long to be.

Hosannah in the highest heaven
is the song the angels sing,
it rings out over hill and valley
the news, the birth of Christ the King.

Slowly, slowly, I go stealing
near to Him so I can give,
the only gift I know will please Him
my love, my life, long as I live.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Dec. 08, 1995

PREPARE A PLACE

Oh let us children one and all
because the time is nigh,
prepare a place within our hearts
for His coming from on high.

His birthplace, a poor stable
so many years since past,
became a haven for the King
salvation’s die was cast.

If we could only comprehend
the fullness of His love,
this precious gift sent to us
from the Father up above.

The awaited guest is coming,
let us prepare Him room,
in the manger of our hearts,
Jesus is coming soon

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Dec. 04, 1995